Techy (Devil Souls MC Book 2)(7)

By: LeAnn Ashers

I slip one hand behind her back, and then I put the other in the water. I bring my hand under her knee. My gaze doesn’t leave hers, and hers softens. I move to my knees, and then I lift her out of the water. She winces as I lift her, and it breaks my heart. I move to my feet, bringing her to my chest.

I gently set her on top of the counter. I look back into her eyes. I grab the towel on my shoulder and wrap it around her so she doesn’t get cold.

I take the one she was clutching to her chest away because it’s soaked and throw it into the sink. I wrap the towel tighter around her and reach into the drawer for another towel and a hand towel.

He sets the towel in my lap to cover me up completely. I am in awe of this person. How he gently lifted me out of the water so I wouldn’t get hurt made me feel special. He grabs the hand towel and moves in the direction of my hair.

Is he really going to dry my hair?

My question is answered when he grabs my wet hair and starts to dry it. I close my eyes at the feel of being cared for in such a way. I can’t remember the last time I was showed affection like this, and it feels wonderful.

My throat thickens as tears threaten to escape my eyes. I hear a cabinet opening and then feel a hairbrush moving through my long locks.

A sob escapes me, and I clamp my hand over my mouth. I feel his gaze on my face, so I suck it up and open my eyes. I will not cry again. That part of my life is over. I will not let it get me down. I am out of that situation and I will never go back—no matter what happens.

“Angel,” he breaths out softly.

I shake my head. “I’m okay,” I whisper.

He continues brushing my hair. Closing my eyes again, I enjoy the…what? Soothing? Yes, the soothing feel of him brushing my hair.

“Do you need me to help you get dressed?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I’ll be fine. Just help me down from the counter.”

He moves closer to me and scoops me up bridal-style again. Gently placing me onto my feet, he tells me, “I’ll be right outside. When you are ready, I will help you downstairs for dinner.”

He walks out of the bathroom, and the door shuts with a soft click. I let my breath out in a whoosh. Jordan is something I can’t describe. The way he brushed my hair so gently made me realize how much I have been missing in my life. How I want love and affection.

Leaning back against the counter, I bend to slip on the pair of boxers Techy let me borrow, and my ribs scream at me. I pant at the exertion and rise again, clutching my side and wanting the ache to stop.

Then I slip my arms into the huge, baggy T-shirt. Pain racks my body with every movement. I slip the shirt over my head and grit my teeth. Then I straighten and the shirt falls down my body. Sweat beads on my forehead from the strain. Earlier, when Jordan was here, I’d forgotten about the pain, but now, it’s almost unbearable. I wish this would go away.

“Ready,” I yell through the door to Jordan.

The door swings open a second later. I look awful. I have to. I feel it. I just want some kind of relief from the pain, from the memories.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod. “Just in pain from bending over,” I admit and take a step closer to him.

That sets him in motion. He moves over to me and gently picks me up. Not able to resist, I lay my head on his broad chest.

“Let’s get you fed.”

I nod, and he walks with me in his arms down the stairs and into a very large kitchen. To my surprise, he walks straight past it until we reach an even bigger living room with a huge couch. The living room has floor-to-ceiling windows that give a gorgeous view of the grassy fields. A huge, tall fence surrounds the house. It’s really calming and beautiful.

My back touches the back of the couch and I take my arm from around his neck. He removes his arms from under my legs and gently stretches my leg out so I am sitting in the corner of the couch.

“Thank you, Jordan.” I touch his arm.

He looks me directly in the face. “You’re welcome, angel.”

Butterflies swarm in my belly at his term of endearment.

When he tucks a blanket over my lap and steps away from me, saying, “Let me go get your food,” I smile.

Then he walks into the kitchen and I look around the room. Above the fireplace is a huge TV. In fact, it’s the biggest TV I have ever seen. I can’t tell you the last time we owned a TV. I remember watching cartoons about fifteen years ago, but then my dad sold it for drugs.

Jordan walks into the room, carrying two plates filled to the brim with food and two sodas. He sets both of the plates on the coffee table, and then he lifts one and sets it on my lap. I look at the food before me: a huge steak and a baked potato. I cannot tell you the last time I had a meal like this. Hell, I have never had a meal like this. My belly rumbles and I want to pick the steak up with my hands and stuff my face.