After jumping out of my skin for the third or fourth time, I got up. I paced the room, tried reading a book, watching TV, but the only thing that kept me from losing my shit was standing at the end of the bed staring at Adam.
Relief and anxiety had me trembling. I folded my arms over my chest, leaning back against the wall, trying to relax, but it wasn’t working. I tucked my chin to my chest and squeezed my biceps as if that would keep me from rattling apart.
“You need to chill. I didn’t die.”
I scoffed, but didn’t look up at him. “I know you didn’t die, but it was damn close, and you’re still not out of the woods.”
“Yeah, the doc told me. Apparently, rolling around in your own piss and shit and puke isn’t all that great for gunshot wounds,” Adam said, downplaying the shit he’d gone through.
“Don’t do that.”
He cocked his brow at me. “Don’t do what?”
I walked to him. “Don’t downplay the shit that happened to you. You were betrayed by your own country. Left to fucking die.”
“I’m aware, Rocket, but I’m not ready to go back there, not even if it’s just in my head.” Adam sighed, groaning as he tried to raise his arms.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Adam’s body was shaking like a leaf. His face was etched with pain and suffering.
“What can I do?”
Adam closed his eyes, shutting me out. I knew he was trying to protect me, but I didn’t want him to shut me out. I’d spent weeks thinking and feeling as if I’d never see him again.
“You don’t have to do that.”
He gasped. “What?”
The agony in his voice was a kick to my junk. I hated when he was hurt or sad or upset in any way.
“Protect me. Shut me out.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to experience what I did. Not ever. I thanked God every day I was the one taken,” Adam whispered. His eyes were still closed, and he was pressing the pain pump.
I reached for his hand, closing mine over it. “Do you need me to speak to the nurses?”
He shook his head. Tears seeped out from under his lids, leaving trails down his face before disappearing into his beard.
I sat down next to him on the bed. “I’ll raid the pharmacy if you want.”
The corner of Adam’s mouth twitched, and he glanced up at me. His mouth opened. “Brock…”
The door opened, and a cacophony of voices invaded the space.
“How’s our returning hero?” Carson yelled as the team filed in.
Adam’s eyes flew open. His gaze darted from me and my hand holding his to the team and back.
I waited for the shove, knowing how much it would hurt to be pushed aside by Adam when all I wanted was to pull him close and wrap him up in my arms. I’d promised if I got him back, I’d take what he could give and live the rest of my life in the shadows. When the rejection I was expecting didn’t happen, elation ballooned, but I shoved it down. I wouldn’t make Adam feel bad for what he’d called self-preservation all those years ago.
When I looked at Adam, he was looking at me.
A smile hovered over his mouth as he turned to the guys. “Brock’s trying to keep me from decimating the pain pump. Other than that, I’m as good as can be expected.”
Adam still hadn’t pulled his hand away from mine or pushed me from the bed, and I didn’t know what the fuck to make of it.
Has he had a change of heart?
