𝐒𝐲𝐧 ┃𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

139. 𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝑴𝒆

Syn

When Paris called, I almost didn't answer. I thought he was going to continue with his line of rapid-fire questions and I didn't necessarily have time for it. I was in the middle of doctoring disappearances for the hospital staff Queen killed. It would be oh so easy to just dispose of the bodies and forget about it, but I couldn't risk one of their family members figuring shit out and going on some revenge quest.

That meant going through cell phone messages, emails, social media, any online forums they were on...

As far as anyone was concerned, two of the doctors had gone abroad on Earth forevermore—to their dream locations, of course. It was crazy how much you could learn about a person from their camera roll.

The young man whom Queen almost spared was the easiest. He had no immediate family that would search for him. He grew up in foster care and after Mario's deep dive of his digital footprint and a glance at his prescription pad, we realized that the man was no saint. By far.

He was writing out prescription roofies in the names of women he'd had...encounters with. Their pictures filled the locked files in his cell phone. Some awake, some not.

He deserved what he got. I only wondered how Queen read him so easily.

I dropped everything the moment he told me she was crying.

There was something so soul-crushing and gut-wrenching in hearing that. Seeing it was even worse.

Just past the door of the restroom, I could hear Paris trying yet failing to console her. "Do you want me to call Syn?" I heard him ask her.

"No, please don't," she begged him and something in my chest twisted at the sound of her broken voice and I stepped in. "I don't want him—"

That's too bad.

"Paris," I called, my jaw clenching as I caught a glimpse of her. Hold it together. I glanced down at the floor and took a breath. I was thankful that he'd been here to call me, but fuck if it didn't kill me knowing he'd probably seen her naked. If it were another man, blood would've been spilled, but he hadn't ever given me a reason to distrust him. When he stood up and walked out of the shower, I saw a glimpse of a towel around her body, and relief flooded through me.

Then guilt followed...

I was a fucking bastard.

He walked toward me, sending a concerned look at the shower before facing me. His clothes were soaked. "That water was freezing, Syn." Fuck. "And people only do that to themselves when they're trying to punish themselves for something."

I knew that much.

I gave him a nod. "I'll take care of it. Leave."

He nodded and left without another word and I closed the door behind him, my mind racing with how to best approach this. I didn't want to overwhelm her. Not anymore...she had already gone through so much. I could just hear the sobs she was holding back from the moment I walked into the room.

Before I knew what I was doing, I unbuttoned my shirt and kicked off my shoes and socks. I left my pants on.

I walked over to the shower door as it opened and her eyes flicked up to mine before she looked away. She wanted to leave. As far as I was concerned, she didn't have to speak to me or even look at me, but I wasn't letting her out of my sight. Whatever her mouth and eyes wouldn't tell me, the rest of her would. Slowly. But I was fine with putting two and two together until she was ready.

"Weren't you going to shower?" I asked her, grabbing the shower door and she dropped her hand. She nodded, her fingers moving to her eyes and I tensed. I wanted to hold her, but this was the most fragile I had ever seen her. "Why are you trying to leave then?" I asked, stepping inside. She took the same step away from me and I ignored it, taking the towel from around her body and tossing it aside.