Still, I was upright.
A satisfied smile stretched. “I did it! Am I allowed to shower?”
His brow lifted. “Can you stand without assistance?”
I glared down at my shaky legs. “I’d really like to feel clean. Will you help?”
After another bout of vexed eye contact, he unhooked the tubing from the line in my hand, taping the Luer lock. “Can you walk?”
“Let me try.” Heavily favoring my injured leg, I managed some slow but bearable steps. He started the shower while I brushed my teeth.
Before I could undress, he touched my waist, and I met his gaze in the mirror. The threatened animal vibe had returned, and his hand fisted the fabric of my shirt so tight his knuckles blanched. I thought he might say something, but the words gleamed instead in the desperation of his eyes.
I can’t lose you.
“I know,” I whispered, and stretched an arm back to circle his neck. He dropped a long kiss on my shoulder.
How had we reached this impossible place, grasping onto each other with broken fingers?
He released a held breath before helping me undress and step into the shower. The heat eased away the discomfort. My left leg throbbed, but it could bear weight.
While he faced away, leaning in the doorway, I cleaned myself. I relished every drop of hot water until it ran cold, then grabbed the towel he left for me. “How are you here?” I asked as I dried off. “Won’t they wonder where you are?”
“No. Every other day I’ve had to leave, but it’s Saturday.” Under his breath he added, “Fucking finally.”
Saturday? My stomach cramped as I considered how long I’d been down. I would have bled to death in his closet if he hadn’t come. What were the odds that he’d see the light just as it turned red?
When would my dumb luck run out?
I tried to brush past the sudden fear in my gut. “Heaven forbid wars be fought on weekends.”
He shrugged. “Even God got a day off.”
Wrapping the towel around my body, I shot an incredulous look at the back of his head. “Are you comparing yourself to God, Lucas?”
He turned to flash me a small smirk. “No. I’m taking two days off.”
I almost laughed. Iwantedto laugh. At the cheek. The absurdity. The sheer impossibility of this situation.
But I couldn’t laugh.
My body had forgotten how.
He turned to face me full-on. “It’s taking everything in me not to chain you to the bed. You’re doing too much too soon.”
I looked down at myself. “I’m just standing here.”
“You’re going to undo everything I’ve spent the last week trying to fix.”
The ache in my leg had begun a steady throb, and my entire body felt vaguely as if it was spinning in space, so I capitulated without argument. “Help me dress, and I’ll get back in bed.”
He retrieved some of his clothes while I stood in front of the mirror and opened the towel.
I gaped at what I found.
Dehydrated and pallid. Skin stained with bruises. Purple and red dyed my whole thigh, and the deep wound Lucas had sewn shut stood out bright and jagged, the blue stitches a macabre reminder of the violence I’d barely survived.
“How did you save me?” I asked as I took in the extent of the damage.
