Burying Water (Burying Water #1)(69)

She slept all day. I know because after I raced out to Bend and back with a trunk full of parts, I kept checking in on her. With me, normally, hours go unnoticed when I’m in my garage. With this car sitting in front of me, I’d expect those hours to turn into days. But I watched that damn clock on the wall all day long, creeping up the stairs several times to make sure she was okay.

She says she’s fine and I can’t see anything besides what’s on her face, but I’m still worried. How long can a person sleep?

“Alex?” I take my time climbing the steps, my footfalls extra heavy so she hears me coming. When I get to the top, she’s standing in front of the small side window, an awed smile brightening her injured face.

“It’s even more beautiful out here than I imagined.”

I come up behind her, probably too close but I can’t help myself, and look out the window to see what she sees—snow-capped mountain peaks, the sky smeared with shades of pink and purple from the setting sun. “You should see it here in the summer.”

“And look!” She points to the old woman’s two horses, grazing on a bale of hay by the barn. “I wish I could go see them.”

“Maybe another time.” I very gently brush the strands of hair off her face. “Feeling better, Sleeping Beauty?”

She dips her head to hide the coy, crooked smile. “Starting to. I’m going to take a bath, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. It’s nothing special in there, though, Alex.” Definitely not like her house. Or an eight-hundred-dollar-a-night hotel room.

“It’s perfect. Really. I just need some towels and I can’t reach them. Can you help me?”

“Right.” The storage in there is odd, the only cupboards running along the high side and eight feet up. I follow her in and then maneuver around her in the tight space to dig out the fresh towels. “What’s that?” I ask, watching her sprinkle white granules into the bath.

“Epsom salts,” she explains with a shrug. “It helps.”

Sounds like she’s been here before, even though she says she hasn’t. Gritting my teeth, because she doesn’t need to hear my complaints—her body is complaining enough right now as it is—I hand her the towels and then slip out around her.

She shuts the running water off. “Did you get any work done on your car?” I glance back to see the door open a sliver and her slowly easing her shirt up over her head. Numerous black bruises—as if from fingers digging into flesh—mark her back and waist.

“Yeah, brakes and a good tune-up,” I mutter, yanking the fitted bedsheet over the mattress. I hate knowing she was with him at all, but to see proof like that? I keep my head down and make the rest of the bed, listening to the sound of her na**d body slip into the water.

Since seeing her cowering in the kitchen yesterday, I haven’t had a single thought about her besides getting her somewhere safe. Not in the long car ride here, not lying in bed next to her last night, not even while in the shower.

Now, though . . . I can’t claim that anymore. Which means I probably need to get the hell out of here. “Hey, I’m going to head back downstairs to work on—”

Her phone begins ringing.

A splash of water sounds. Alex, sitting up. “Is that him?”

I check the screen. “Unknown.”

There’s a long pause and then, “That’s him. Can you please bring it to me?” The sound of the shower rings scraping against the metal rod tells me she’s drawing the curtain. Closed or open, I can’t say. Either way, it’s a see-through material.

I push through the doorway, trying to keep my eyes up and toward the glow from the small window above the tub until I’m close enough to focus on just her face.

She reaches out to take the phone from me, splashing drops of water on my arm. “Stay?” Bright reddish-brown eyes plead with me.

With a nod, I sit down on the floor, my back pressed against the outside of the tub. And I listen.

“Hello?”

The harsh tone blasts through from the other end and, though I can’t pick up the words, I know it’s him.

“Yes . . . No . . . Yes . . . I’m fine.” He talks for a minute straight and she simply listens. “Okay, Viktor . . . Okay . . . Love you too . . .”

My stomach clenches.

“Yes, in a few days. Good night.” She hangs up. The phone appears in front of me, her hand extended over my shoulder. “Can you please take it before I drop it in the bath?”

I do, her wet fingers slipping over mine in the process. “What’d he want?”

“Nothing. Just checking in, I guess.” She sighs. “I was just beginning to relax, too.”

I turn, just far enough to see her from the neck up. “Still glad you came?”

She manages a smile. “Yes.”

Although I shouldn’t bring it up, I can’t help it. “Do you regret the night in the hotel?”

I don’t move as she shifts closer to me, until her head rests on the edge of the tub, just inches from mine. “I don’t regret that night, Jesse, and I never will. I just felt incredibly guilty for doing it because I knew it was wrong. It’s . . . When I married Viktor, I truly believed it was forever. I never thought I would end up being this person who sleeps with another man. And yet, here I am, only four years later. A cheating wife.”