Page 45 of Havenfall Harbor
“Griffin, whose blood was that? It was all over me, should I go to the doctor, get tested?” I keep my eye on the entryway and the slight shadow on the ground he’s creating near the door.
I hear his sigh, even over the spray of the water. “It was bagged blood, Quinn, there’s no sickness or disease in it.”
“Somehow that doesn’t really make me feel better,” I mumble, grateful that I’m not going to catch something, but still very much disturbed.
“Stay in as long as you like. I’ll…I’ll…just be here when you’re ready.” Hearing Griffin stammer is rather strange. He doesn’t strike me as a man who suffers from a loss of words often.
“Thanks.” After rinsing off the soap I start washing all over again, this time from my neck down, but I still scrub my butt and thighs extra hard. When my skin is red and angry from the scouring and heat, I finally turn the knobs off, and the silence that fills the room is loud. I almost call out to Griffin to make sure he’s still here, but I don’t. Instead, I pad over to the wall and drag a thick, white towel off the bar and bring it to my nose. It smells clean, like laundry soap.
I cover my face as the water on my body quickly cools. I’m already racked with shivers, but I ignore them and breathe in the clean scent of the towel. Tears prick my eyes, I’m overtired and emotionally drained.
Why the hell would someone spill bagged blood all over my floor? Could it be some kind of mistake?
“I got you this.” I turn, surprised to see Griffin’s arm in the room. I wrap the towel around me, holding my arms down at my sides to keep it in place, as a limp smile tries to form on my lips. I appreciate the effort he’s making to give me privacy.
“Thanks.” I take the soft fabric from his hand. His rings wink in the light as he curls his fingers in.
“Do you want me to go grab you something from your room?” he offers, as his arm disappears from the doorway.
“Um…” I stall, not really wanting him to leave me alone, nor do I want something from over there right now. I feel like everything will be tainted—crazy, I know—but the event is still fresh.
Releasing the towel, I adjust the shirt he gave me until I duck my head into the fabric. I drag in a greedy inhale when the soft material passes over my face. The towel was clean, but this smells like him. A long sigh leaves my lips.
“Quinn?”
With the towel in my hands, I walk into the room. The shirt is long enough that it hangs down to mid-thigh. The fabric is thin, but I did a quick check in the mirror to make sure I wouldn’t be giving him the same show Letty did just a little bit ago.
“Where should I put this?” I lift the towel.
Griffin pulls away from the wall he was leaning against and takes a step toward me. His eyes search over me quickly, but his gaze lingers on the hem of his shirt. I curl my toes and bend my knees a little, feeling exposed, but it’s not the lack of clothes. It’s the vulnerability I’m experiencing that has me wishing I had some sort of shield to cover up with.
I’m not sure what I should do now—call someone to clean up the room, wait until morning? I don’t think I could sleep over there right now, not with that mess and knowing someone can come and go from my room without issue, and that was before Griffin broke my doorknob.
“I have tea.” Griffin winces a little with the offer.
I shake my head, it’s late, I really just want to sleep. I look around for the first time and notice the room. There isn’t much light, but I can make out a larger than usual bed a few yards away. The four corner posts all reach higher than the light reveals.
His peppery scent fills my nose and I relax my shoulders a little. I want to climb in that big bed and pull the covers over my head so I can sleep for a few days.
“Is there…is there somewhere I can sleep for a few hours, another room?” My voice sounds a little hollow.
“You can stay here,” Griffin says, then quickly adds, “Until we figure out what’s going on. I don’t sleep much anyway.” He drags his hand over his mouth and chin, his eyes bright.
“I didn’t mean here. I don’t want to impose. I meant another room. Another floor. I’m not sure I’ll feel comfortable in that room anymore. Do you think Director Stone would let me switch rooms?” I’m rambling, I know I am. His offer to stay here caught me off guard, and so did how much I want to take him up on it.
“You’ll stay here.” Griffin lowers his chin a tiny bit, but it changes the planes of his face and he looks more…I don’t know, just more.
“I’ll talk to Stone,” I tell him.
Griffin lifts one eyebrow and flattens his lips at my response. Reading his expression isn’t hard.
“So…the towel?” I lift the damp cloth, at a loss for what else to say. Griffin reaches for it and tosses it unceremoniously back into the bathroom where it lands in a heap on the floor.
“Do you need anything from next door?” Griffin walks over to the bed and pulls back the covers, revealing dark sheets. He turns to meet my stare when he’s done.
I swallow. Am I really going to sleep in his bed? “I’ll sleep on the couch. I can’t take your bed.”
“Not happening.” He shakes his head slowly. “And you will.”
