Home > Books > Does It Hurt?(135)

Does It Hurt?(135)

Author:H. D. Carlton

I hear everything he’s not saying.

That doesn’t mean we will protect you.

Chapter 36

Sawyer

My heart has formed little fists, and they’re banging against my rib cage, demanding to be let out.

Enzo is standing ahead of me, a slight impression of a dimple in his cheek as he peers over his shoulder at me. Mirth radiates from his hazel eyes, and I’m tempted to poke them.

“Why the hell is Senile Suzy in your driveway?” I squeak, my tone bordering on hysterical. Right before me is my big, yellow Volkswagen van in all its glory, gleaming beneath the sunlight.

He quirks a brow. “You never said why you chose that name,” he deflects.

“She’s a goddamn imbecile and moody as fuck. Why is she here?”

“Because this is where she belongs. This is where you belong.”

I curl my bottom lip between my teeth, tears welling in my eyes.

“How did you find her?” I ask, the words raspy and uneven.

He shrugs casually. “After you fell asleep at the hospital, a nurse let me use her phone, and I called to make sure it was still parked at Valen’s Bend. It was, so I had my friend, Troy, retrieve it for me and bring it here.”

I laugh, because if I don’t, I’ll cry. The fact that he remembered where I parked it is enough to have my ovaries exploding.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I choke out.

“Didn’t I say it would be waiting for you? Don’t ever doubt what I would do for you, Sawyer.” He doesn’t let me answer, not that I’d have one for him anyway.

Bottom lip trembling, I say, “Is it too late to add you to my list of things that make me happy? Doesn’t matter, I’m adding you to it anyway.”

A dimple appears in his cheek, and he stares at me as if he already knew that. Nodding toward his house, he murmurs, “Come, bella.”

I take a single step before my joints lock, my feet glued to the ground and unable to move. When he catches sight of my inability to function, the dimple on his other cheek appears.

“What’s funny?” I mutter, my gaze pinned to the house.

“Why are you so nervous to enter our home? Shouldn’t it be me?”

“No,” I grumble. Sweat is beginning to gather in my pits, and my brain is looping back to him saying our home and getting stuck there.

Clearly, I’m still very much ashamed of what I did the last time he brought me here. And what’s even more unsettling about this situation is that he wants me to stay.

Because for some godforsaken reason, Enzo decided I was worth loving. I think he hit his head too hard when we shipwrecked and lost his mind, yet I’m too selfish to let him go.

We both lost pieces of ourselves that day. But as time passed while stuck in that lighthouse, we slowly merged our remaining scattered pieces until we made more sense together than we did apart.

There’s no doubt Enzo is worth loving, and though it terrifies me, I’m no longer willing to run away from it.

He stops before the front door, turning to me fully, his eyes glinting in the sunlight.

“What?” I snap, though it’s missing heat.

A grin slides onto his face, and the hands banging within my chest freeze. My heart and I are paralyzed by that simple action, which is honestly annoying.

“You know I forgive you, right?” he asks.

I sniff. “I don’t think you’ve ever said the words, but yes.”

He takes a step toward me, slips two fingers into my mouth, and jerks me into him, effectively arresting the oxygen in my lungs right along with my heart.

“I forgive you, bella. And now I’m going to need you to forgive yourself. Can you do that for me, baby?”

I melt. Just that easily.

Unable to speak, I nod, relaxing my shoulders while he releases me.

“Good, now let’s go take a hot shower with actual water pressure, and then we’re ordering takeout from wherever you want.”

Unexpectedly, a sob nearly bursts from my throat. It’s so simple—a shower and takeout—but it feels like he’s leading me into paradise.

Enzo’s hands dive into my hair, lathering the shampoo into the strands while massaging my scalp.

I’ve missed water pressure. After spending all day at the police station, I thought I’d never get to relax. But now, my bones are liquefying, and I’m on the verge of swirling down the drain with the water.

“If I died right here and now,” I start, the last word bleeding into a groan. “I’d actually be upset. You should be proud of yourself. You made me want to live.”