“We’ll drop off a casserole on your doorstep, Banner,” Mavis calls out.
“I’ll drop off my potato salad,” another calls out.
“I’ll bring the cookies,” Karen adds. And so it goes as people call out what they’re going to bring.
I look up at Banner and don’t even try to hide my tears. “They’re feeding me?”
“They’re taking care of you. You’ve seen the bad, but baby girl, you’ve yet to see the best part about small-town living.”
He kisses my forehead before he leads me over to Blake’s truck. I wave at everyone, thanking them for coming. My voice shakes hard, and I know nobody misses it. I’m met with tears and smiles. It’s funny because people come to the hospital to get fixed. And it’s while I’m standing in the parking lot that I finally feel the little haunted girl inside me begin to heal.
It doesn’t take long to get home, and when we do, I’m given my next dose of painkillers before I’m tucked into bed. I’m too exhausted to put up a fight, so much so that it’s lights out as soon as my head hits the pillow.
When I wake, daylight is streaming in through the crack in the blinds. My headache isn’t as bad as it was yesterday, but it flares up when I move. I ease myself into a sitting position with a groan. Holy heck, I feel like I got run over by a bus.
Somehow Banner, with his supersonic hearing, must have heard me groan. The door is open and he’s through it before I can stand.
“Take it easy, baby. Here, take these.” He hands me a glass of water and a couple of painkillers that I don’t hesitate to throw in my mouth. I drink the huge glass of water down, my mouth and throat feeling sore and dry.
“Thank you.” I wince at the sound of my voice and don’t miss Banner’s thunderous expression. It hasn’t sounded this bad since right after I started talking again.
“I’m okay, Banner.”
“I know, and the fact you’re home and in our bed is the only reason I’m not losing my mind and hunting down Denny myself. Doesn’t change the fact that your throat is a mess because you were screaming for help, and I wasn’t there. I swear, every timeI closed my eyes last night, I could hear you screaming for me to find you.”
“And to hear my voice like this brings it all back.”
“I’m so fucking sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, Sorrow.”
“You didn’t know I needed protecting, Banner. You can’t save me from everything.”
He leans over me, gently tipping my head back so his lips brush mine when he speaks. “Just you fucking watch me.”
He kisses me softly, even though I try to deepen it. Stubborn man.
“I love you, Jake Bannerman, but you’re a damn tease.”
“You get better, and I’ll do every dirty little thing you want me to and then some. But I won’t hurt you. Not ever again.”
I don’t push it. He’s still struggling with the bruises he left on me that day in my kitchen, which feels like a lifetime ago. I don’t downplay it. It was a line in the sand drawn by both of us. I might have forgiven him this time, given all the extenuating circumstances, but I’m nobody’s fool. If he ever steps over that line again, I’ll be gone, and that line will be nothing but a speck of dust on the horizon. The thing is, I know, without a shadow of doubt, that I have nothing to fear. I might have forgiven Banner for it, but he’ll never forgive himself.
“Let’s get you fed. You have to be starving.”
My stomach rumbles on cue. “Now, that you mention it…” I sigh, making him chuckle as he helps me to my feet. “I need a shower. I feel gross.”
“Food first. I don’t like you taking painkillers on an empty stomach. I’ll help you shower afterward.”
“I can manage. I’ll just go slow.”
“I’m helping you shower. You can’t get your cast wet, remember? And it will be a fuck of a lot easier for me to wash your hair than for you to.”
“Alright, you win. But if you’re all naked and wet, I cannot be held responsible for my actions,” I grumble as he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me out the door.
He grins. “Duly noted.” The cocky ass.
When we make it to the kitchen, Katy is already at the table sipping coffee. I gaze around the room and my eyes widen.
“Holy fuck.”
