I nodded into his throat. "I know."
He nodded right back, smiling just a little as he swept a palm down my ass to cup it. "Good." With a soft sigh, Dex kissed my chin. "Shower time."
I rubbed my thighs together, the sticky fluid coating skin. "Good idea."
Dex was silent as he turned on the water, leading me into the large tub. Wide, suspecting eyes glanced over the deep, colorful bruises on the hip I’d landed on.
He mumbled something in a harsh voice but didn’t say anything else, and he didn’t touch the injured parts of my body. Dex washed my hair and back with slow, gentle, sudsy hands. His palm skimmed over the scarring of my arm, but he didn't pay too much attention to it. The only indication he gave that there was something wrong was the nerve that popped continuously under his eye.
I waited next to him while he rinsed off, running my eyes over the parts of Uriel that looped on his back. So much even, smooth skin everywhere. I couldn't stop looking him over. His wide, muscled back. Narrow hips. The meaty shaft of his dick laying semi-hard on his thigh. I took the soap from him and lathered my hands, rubbing over the colorful and not so colorful parts of his chest. Over the dark and not-so-dark colors of both his arms.
Dex just stood there, outstretched limbs letting me get to him. Thighs. Knees. Calves. Even his feet. I flashed him smiles every time I got to a different body part, smiles he returned to me genuinely.
I didn’t have any words left by that point, or even after he helped me dry off.
A few moments later, he’d led me back to his bedroom and deposited himself on the edge of his bed—naked—draping me over his lap casually. One arm went around my back and the other faced palm down on my thigh. Up and down he stroked the bare skin.
Dex didn’t talk as he kissed my forehead and my nose so gently it worried me. He didn’t say anything when I winced after he’d accidentally grabbed my bad hip. And he didn’t say a vowel or a consonant when he tried to brush a hand through my hair.
But when he tilted my face up to his, eyes intense on mine, my strength screamed its end.
“You okay, babe?” he whispered, and I knew he wasn't talking about what we'd just done in the bathroom.
My nod was reluctant.
Dex pressed his cheek to my forehead. “That's my girl.” His voice was a quiver.
That undesirable fear from earlier crept over my bare skin. I'd been told my entire life that I was worth something. That I mattered. Between yia-yia and Sonny, the two had never let me feel like I was worth anything less than gold. And I valued myself, I did. While I wasn't talented, a genius, or really good at anything, I was smart enough and hard-working enough to make up for my other weaknesses.
But in that moment, with the weight of the mess my father had brought down into my life, and the acceptance that it had all cascaded into other people's lives, I suddenly felt unsure. I'd known people who had left others for less.
All Dex had done was help me from... well, nearly from the beginning. And everyone else before Dex that had cared about me had done the same and more.
Something that resembled fear gripped my neck in an intangible hold. “I'm so sorry.” The words were choked from a place in me that I usually stashed all of my regrets and worries. All I did was cause Dex headaches. Make him lose money. Time. Patience and credibility. He was under no obligation to put up with my shit. "I'm such a pain in the ass."
His entire body tensed. “Iris.”
I shifted to set my cheek against his. “You know my mom knew she had growths before she went to the doctor? She waited because we were always broke. Because I was sick and she had to pay my medical bills."
It was a miracle I wasn't sobbing as I spilled these things I shoved deep in me. "And my poor yia-yia had to sell her house so that we wouldn't go bankrupt when I got sick again. I had to come move in with Sonny because I was broke. And now you and the guys are suffering through all of this shit because of me."
Guilt, guilt, guilty, guilt, guilt.
"I'm so friggin' sorry, Dex. I never wanted any of this. I don't want any of you guys to get hurt. I don't even want to see my friggin' dad. Or get a fucking gun put up to my face. I don't—I don't—” It took every single inch of determination I had inside of my gut to keep from letting the broken words turn into a fractured cry. "I need to go back home to look for my dad."
The hand on top of my thigh stiffened, squeezing the lean muscle so hard it hurt. In a flash, Dex had flipped us over so that I was on my back and he was on his hands and knees above me, looking pretty murderous. Those cobalt colored eyes flashed angrily. "No."
"I have to."
He shook his head, staring hard. "No." He blinked. "Fuck no."
"Dex," I whispered, my voice sounding so much more pathetic than I wanted it to. "It's my responsibility. This needs to be over."
"He's there, Ritz, you heard Lu, but you're not goin' back." he insisted. “‘Specially not without me.”
It was my turn to blink in disbelief. "You'll go with me?"
"Yeah." Dex dropped his face down to catch my bottom lip in his, and if it wouldn't have been for that touch, I wouldn't have felt the way his hands trembled on my cheeks. The way his entire body shook.
I nodded at him, pulled between the urge to burst into tears at feeling so overwhelmed and the need to throw myself at him to feel the warm reassurance only he was capable of. Could I do it by myself? Yes. But did I want to? No.
I was in love with this guy. Completely, terrifyingly in love with him. And life suddenly seemed so short again. Would I want to live the rest of my life hiding behind my dad's shadow? Living out his mistakes? No. Absolutely not.
Dex must have seen something on my face that had him dropping his weight down on me. That warm naked body spread over my own nude one, his legs bracketed on either sides of mine, his arms caging me in. Ohmigod, Dexter Locke was naked on top of me. His nice, clean groin was resting on my stomach.
Brain dead. I was brain dead.
"You aren't leavin' alone," Dex demanded.
Oh hell. "I won’t."
Holding his weight on one bent arm, he cupped the side of my face. "You took ten years off my life today, baby," Dex said.
Oh man.
"Thought I was gonna have to go to jail for the rest of my life, babe," he whispered. His hand cupped my calf, demanding and hot. "We're gonna find that piece of shit you and Son got cursed with and we're gonna get this taken care of. You and me. Understand?”
Did I understand? Oh yes. I nodded.
Those brilliant blue eyes locked on mine. He breathed, “I don’t know what the fuck I’d do if somethin’ happened to you.” Dex squeezed my kneecaps. "Scared the livin’ shit outta me, and I’m gonna make sure your pa knows what that feels like."
A tremble engulfed every inch of my skin. It was slow but powerful, eating up my muscles and nerves like it was famished. The moment, his proclamation, all seemed like a dream. Like something that would have happened to the Iris Taylor I could have been in an alternate universe, if life had gone the way it was supposed to.
Did I care he was threatening my dad? In that moment, not really. I chose to ignore it because I wanted to be the one to hurt that selfish jerk.
Dex’s hands held me firmly. One hand slipped up to cup my cheek tenderly as he pressed his forehead to my temple. “I don’t ever wanna feel that way again.”
I think my heart cracked a little right then.