Chapter 61 Mine to Love
Julian lifted Elena from the mud and the wet grass as if she weighed nothing at all.
Her body was a dead weight in his arms, her head lulling against his chest. She was shaking so hard that he could feel the vibrations through his own soaked suit jacket.
He carried her through the dark trees, his boots heavy and sure on the slippery ground.
He didn't look back at the pit or look at the forest, he made sure his men scouted the area thoroughly for any other persons.
He only looked at the black limousine waiting at the edge of the dirt road with its engine humming and its headlights cutting through the rain.
Collins was already standing by the rear door, holding it open. H
His face was pale when he saw the state of Elena. She was covered in gray mud from her hair to her sneakers. Her clothes were torn, and her skin was a ghostly blue-white color.
Julian stepped into the back of the car and pulled her in with him, settling her onto the leather seat and not minding the mud.
"Drive," Julian said.
"Yes, sir," Collins replied, closing the door and rushing to the driver's seat.
Inside the car, the heater was already blasting.
Julian grabbed a thick wool blanket from the side cabinet and wrapped it tightly around Elena.
He pulled her into his lap, holding her against him to give her his body heat.
Elena didn't fight him. She couldn't. She just sat there, her teeth clicking together, her eyes wide and staring at nothing.
"You're safe," Julian whispered near her ear. He rubbed her arms through the blanket, trying to get the blood moving. "We're going home. I'll have the doctor waiting. I'll get you warm."
At the word "home," Elena finally moved. She blinked, her eyes focusing on the glass partition of the limousine.
She looked around the expensive interior, and then she looked at Julian.
"No," she croaked. Her voice was barely a sound.
"Elena, you need a bed and you need a bath,"
Julian said.
"Not there," she said, her voice getting a little stronger. She pushed against his chest, trying to create space between them. "I won't go back to that house. I won't go back to that mansion. Take me anywhere else. Please take me to a hotel or to a shelter. Just don't take me back there."
Julian tightened his grip on her. "Elena, be reasonable. My home is the most secure place in the city. You were almost killed tonight and you almost drowned in a hole. You will never be hurt in my home. I can protect you there."
Elena started to cry. The tears were hot and messy. "Your home is a lie, Julian! Everything in it is a lie! I can't breathe in that place. I look at the walls and I see the hospital in the basement. I look at you and I don't even know who I'm looking at. Please. If you want to help me, don't take me back there."
She began to sob, her body racking with the effort. She looked hopeless.
She looked like a woman who had reached the very end of her rope.
Julian watched her for a long minute. He saw the way she flinched when he tried to touch her face. He saw the genuine terror in her eyes when she thought about the mansion.
He leaned forward and pressed the intercom button. "Collins."
"Yes, Mr. Thorne?"
"Reverse. Do not go to the estate. Head to the Grand Plaza Hotel and get the presidential suite. Now."
"Understood, sir."
The limousine slowed down, made a wide U-turn on the empty road, and sped off toward the city lights.
Elena slumped back against the seat. She was still crying, but the panic seemed to lessen slightly. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself and stared out the window at the rain.
"I don't want to be with you," she whispered, not looking at him. "I don't want to be near you. I'm only here because I have no choice. My father took all my money and my sister hates me. I have nothing."
Julian didn't answer. He just sat there in the dark, his blue eyes fixed on the back of the driver's seat.
He didn't defend himself or even try to comfort her with words. He just stayed close enough to keep her warm, even if she hated him for it.
When the car pulled up to the front of the Grand Plaza, the doormen scrambled to open the doors.
This was the best hotel in the city, a place for royalty and billionaires. The lobby was filled with gold trim and massive crystal chandeliers.
There were people in tuxedos and evening gowns standing near the check-in desk, chatting and laughing.
The car door opened, and Julian stepped out first. Then, he reached back in and scooped Elena up.
He carried her bridal style, her muddy blanket trailing behind them. He walked right through the center of the lobby.
Everyone stopped talking. A woman in a silk dress gasped. Men stared in shock at the powerful Julian Thorne carrying a woman who looked like she had been pulled out of a swamp.
Julian didn't look at any of them. He didn't care about the stares or the whispers, he just walked straight to the private elevator, and Collins held the doors open for them.
They rose to the top floor in silence.
The master suite was massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Chicago skyline. Julian walked into the bedroom and laid Elena gently on the huge king-sized bed.
The white silk sheets were immediately stained with brown mud, but he didn't even blink.
"Stay here," Julian said.
He went into the bathroom and grabbed a stack of thick, white towels. He filled a porcelain bowl with warm water and brought it back to the bed.
He sat on the edge and dipped a cloth into the water, reaching for her face.
"I want to wash up," Elena said, pulling back. "I want a real bath and I want to be clean."
"I'll excuse you," Julian said, standing up. "I'll go into the living area and get a nurse."
Elena tried to sit up, but her body betrayed her. As soon as she put weight on her feet, her legs buckled.
She let out a soft cry of frustration and started to fall. Julian caught her before she hit the floor.
He held her up, his hands steady under her arms.
"I can't stand," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can't even stand up."
"I've got you," Julian said.
He didn't ask for permission this time, he lifted her again and carried her into the massive marble bathroom.
He set her down on a small stool near the walk-in shower. He turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until steam began to rise from the stall.
Elena looked down at her dress. It was ruined and heavy with mud and filth from the pit.
She reached for the zipper, but her fingers were too numb and shaky to move the metal.
Julian knelt in front of
her. He reached out and slowly unzipped the dress, peeled the muddy fabric away from her skin, moving carefully so he wouldn't hurt her.
He took the ruined dress and threw it into the corner of the room. "I'll order new clothes. Everything you need. It will be here by the time you're done."
He helped her stand and led her under the spray of the water.
Elena stood there with just her underwear on, the warm water hitting her skin for the first time in hours.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the tile, letting the heat soak into her bones.
Julian stayed. He picked up a bar of soap and a soft sponge.
He began to wash her back, his movements incredibly gentle. He moved the sponge over her shoulders and down her arms, rinsing away the layers of mud and forest dirt.
He washed the dirt from her hair, the warm water running down her face and over her chest.
Elena didn't pull away. She was too tired to fight him, and the warmth felt too good to give up.
She just stood there under the rain of the shower, letting him clean her. For a moment, the secrets and the lies didn't matter.
There was only the heat of the water and the touch of his hands.
When the water finally ran clear, Julian turned off the shower. He grabbed a massive, fluffy towel and wrapped it around her, tucking the ends in so she was completely covered.
He lifted her out of the shower and set her back on the stool.
"You're clean now," he said quietly.
Elena looked at him. He was still soaked in his ruined suit, his own hair dripping onto the floor.
He looked exhausted, but his eyes were still fixed on her with that same intense focus.
She didn't know if he was her protector or her captor, but in the quiet of the hotel bathroom, she knew she couldn't run anymore.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, feeling the love she didn't want to feel.
Julian didn't answer. He just picked up a comb and began to work the tangles out of her wet hair, one slow stroke at a time.