Warmth surrounds me so completely that I almost can’t tell what tugs me out of my comfortable slumber. Arms are steeled around me, holding me tightly against a hard body. After Elijah’s confession and earnestness in his words, I allowed myself to fall into a deep sleep in the safety of his arms. He never did strike me as the cuddling type, but every time I tried to roll across the bed to escape the furnace, he tucked me right back against him.
I lay for a few moments, keeping my body still while I try to pick up on any noise in the house, but it’s completely silent apart from Elijah’s soft snores behind me.
It’s another few minutes before pain spreads through my lower belly and takes my breath away. Oh no.
As quickly and quietly as I can, I pry myself from his grip and scurry across the room, not bothering to pick up my robe from the floor on my way back to my bedroom. I stop in the doorway and lean against the frame, pain radiating down to the tops of my thighs and taking my breath away.
I’ve always had bad periods. Ever since my first one when I was twelve. Most months, I spend two or three days in my room feeling sorry for myself because I physically cannot get out of bed, and by the way the cramps take hold, this one doesn’t seem any different.
I must have lost track of my cycle since being here, but the arrival of my period does allow me to breathe a little easier. Although anything can happen, it’s unlikely I would get pregnant at this point in my cycle. If nothing else, I need to find a way to get on birth control without Elijah knowing it, even if it only buys me a few months.
I’m not ready to be a mother, and I’m certainly not ready to bring a child into the world while we’re at this impasse. We’re still trying to find a way to make things work, and for the most part, I’m still pushing him away every chance I get. Why would I want to bring a baby into a situation like that?
I do feel comforted by his promise to never raise a hand to me, which means he probably won’t kill me when my usefulness expires. It may be naive of me to believe him, but there was something in his tone that told me he was being sincere, and it gave me the opportunity to rest.
I burst into my bathroom and quickly slam the door behind me, turning the lock immediately. I’m sure there’s a camera in here somewhere, but the illusion of privacy is enough for me right now. And if Elijah decides he wants to get nosey, it’ll be his fault when he sees something he isn’t ready for.
Another cramp hits me just as I lower myself onto the tiled floor by the toilet, the pain so intense it makes my stomach protest painfully. I’ve done this enough times to know the throwing up isn’t far away. My hands fall to my lower stomach and tears escape the corners of my eyes.
I need to put some clothes on, but the cool tiles on my overheated skin is like heaven. Plus, I’m not sure I can get up off the ground without assistance, and I’m sure as hell not allowing Elijah to see me like this.
When I’m sure my stomach isn’t about to lurch its way up my throat, I crawl across the tiles to a stash of underwear I hid in here so I didn’t have to get dressed in a room I knew had cameras. Now I know all of them do, it seems redundant, but at least it’s handy in times like this.
Next I make my way to the vanity, praying that whoever stocked it had the foresight to prepare for menstruation, and breathe a sigh of relief when a box of tampons catches my eye. Oh, thank God. The thought that I may have to ask the scary Mafia man, who has killed more people than I’ve probably met in my life, to go to the store and buy them makes me blush and scoff at the same time. Lord have mercy on the shop assistant that would have had to assist him.
Before I can force myself to my feet to take care of business, the sound of my name booming down the hallway startles me. I don’t want him to see me like this, not when we’ve just started to find our way. But if I don’t answer him, it will only end badly for me.
“I’m in here,” I groan, not sure my voice will carry through the door and into the hallway.
Hot tears stream down my cheeks as my body begins to heave. There’s nothing in my stomach, between everything that happened before Elijah and I fell into bed and slept the day away, I never had a chance to eat anything, but that doesn’t stop my body from trying to expel the contents of my stomach.
The door handle moves, but the lock doesn’t allow him to get any further, and a loud knock ricochets off the tiles.
“Snow! Why is this door locked?” he demands, his voice full of anger. I’m sure he thinks I’m hiding from him, hiding from how vulnerable we were with one another.
“I’m sick. Go back to bed.” I barely manage to get the words out before my body heaves out nothing but clear bile.
There’s silence for a moment and I almost think he’s doing as I asked, but when the sound of metal on metal fills the room, I realize I’m about to have company.
“Please don’t come in here, Elijah,” I plead.
Instead of a response, the door swings open, and a very naked Elijah meets my gaze.
I must look a sight. Hunched over the toilet, naked, with tears streaming down my face as I clutch my stomach.
He takes me in for only a moment before he’s kneeling on the tiles beside me. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are gentle as he gathers my hair in his fist and pulls me back into his hard body. His warmth comforts my shivering body, and I can’t help but relax back into him.
I shake my head. This is mortifying. As if being taken by the enemy isn’t bad enough, I’ve then proceeded to start to like him, and now I have to talk about my period? Absolutely not.
Elijah tenses at my silence, but his hold on me remains soft. He doesn’t strike me as someone who has ever looked after someone like this, but he’s surprisingly good at it. “I need you to tell me what’s going on, Snowflake. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”
“You can’t fix it anyway,” I croak right before another cramp grabs hold and a spasm shoots down my leg.
“I’ll burn the entire world down for you, Snow. I can have a doctor here in ten minutes, but I need to know what they’re treating to make sure I get the right one.” His words are strained, and I almost wonder if he’s struggling to see me in so much pain. The man who causes grievous bodily harm and murders people for a living, doesn’t like seeing me like this, and that makes my heart do a flip in my chest.
“A doctor can’t do anything for me. Plenty have tried, but this is just how it is.” The admission only makes me feel sorrier for myself. This has happened every month for the last thirteen years, and no medication, or birth control, has even begun to mellow out the symptoms, some of them even made them worse.
Elijah lets out a breath and nods against my back. “Your period.” It’s not a question and I almost roll my eyes at myself. Of course he knows. Of course the man who has stalked me for the last decade knows about my long sordid history with every doctor in the city. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, and yet it does.
“Yes,” I murmur.
Silence falls over us, and I find myself relaxing more and more into his warmth. Elijah brings a sense of calm to my usually active mind, and it’s nice to lean into the quiet for a little while, especially as my body revolts against itself.
“Are you still feeling sick?” Elijah asks quietly, his breath whispering across my bare shoulder. I’d all but forgotten I’m naked because he’s been keeping me warm.
“No.” I shake my head, barely able to move even to do that.
“Let’s get you in the shower. The warmth might help.” He stands carefully, never allowing my body to leave his, before lifting us both from the ground altogether.
The moment my eyes lock with a small patch of blood on the pail white tiles, my entire body heats with embarrassment. I’ve never been more mortified than I am right now, and I’ve done some pretty embarrassing things that have ended up on the front page of the Chicago Times.
Elijah’s gaze follows mine and a chuckle rumbles in his chest. “Little Snowflake, I kill people for a living. Do you really think a little blood is going to gross me out?”
“It’s different,” I mutter against him.
He uses his free hand to tip my chin up until my eyes meet his. “No, it’s not. It’s natural, and you don’t have to hide these things from me. We’re a partnership, and if one of us is in pain, or not feeling well, the other is always going to want to help in any way they can. If that means I have to clean up a little bit of blood, so be it. I’d do it a thousand times over if it meant it would help you.”
I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. I’m completely speechless. No man has ever been willing to use the word ‘period’ around me, let alone buy sanitary items or even see me naked during that time of the month, and yet Elijah takes it in his stride, and more than that, he wants to help. He wants to make me feel better while I’m at my lowest, and as if it were ice in a river, some of my resolve to hate the man who has taken me from my life cracks.
Elijah Russo is nothing like the man I thought he would be, and I’m beginning to think that maybe he was right. Maybe ten years ago when he saw me across a crowded room and decided that someday I would be his, perhaps he was right about it all. Because if I’m honest with myself, my heart is starting to beat in time with his cold, dead one.
