“Not funny.” Those blue eyes met mine over his shoulder, looking far too serious and full of too much worry when I was standing upright and only a few feet away. He hadn’t even given me a minute to sit down before carrying me off to get naked…though that was unfortunately more to do with his urgency in checking my wounds than wanting to worship my body.
“Oh come on, your ass is practically begging for attention and I’m not supposed to notice? You think a crowbar beat the urge out of me?”
Shep’s shoulders went rigid, and the hand he had under the faucet to check the water’s temperature dropped out of view.
“Crowbar,” he said slowly, his voice dropping so low I almost missed it over the sound of the running water.
On second thought, maybe mentioning specifics wasn’t the best idea, not when Shep looked ready to murder a man twice.
“Not something I would’ve chosen. ‘Assailant in the jungle with a crowbar’ doesn’t have quite the ring that ‘Miss Scarlet inthe library with a candlestick’ does.” I tried for an easy smile to reassure him I wasn’t completely fucked up—even though the jury was still out on that—but it was harder than it should be to move my face when it was throbbing like a motherfucker.
I’d avoided the mirror when we walked in, resting my weight on the counter instead, but now I was curious just how hideous I was. Would I need to make up a story about a freak accident for any permanent injuries the public would see?
Eh, I didn’t give a shit about that. The only thing I cared about was if Shep would still look at me the way he had this morning.
The nerves as I braced myself for what I might see were ridiculous. I was alive, if barely. And wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for Shep.
I took a deep breath, let it out, then opened my eyes.
Bordel…de merde.
The man looking back at me was a mess of blood and dirt, one side of my face completely swollen and bruised. No wonder Shep had been in a panic to get me back here.
I wished I could say I felt better than I looked, but every part of me ached in a way I’d never felt before. It wasn’t often anyone got the better of me.
A long trail of drying blood ran from my forearm, where the asshole had somehow managed to find and cut out my tracker, and my wrists were raw and swollen from the handcuffs.
I looked back up at my face as Shep watched me silently from where he sat on the edge of the tub. Inspecting each cheek, I said, “I think I could still makePeoplemagazine’s sexiest list. Guys love battle scars,non?”
Shep’s eyes softened as they met mine in the mirror. “Theo?—”
“I know, you don’t have to say it. This’ll give me a rugged edge.” I grinned, but then my ribs seized and I began to cough sohard I wondered if the bastard had cracked one or two of them. Pain shot through my side with every rough hack, and I gripped the counter with one hand and held the tender spot around my ribs with the other, like I could keep them from breaking.
Shep cursed under his breath and then wrapped his arms tight around me to hold me together.
“You’re okay,” he murmured, over and over again, possibly more to himself than to me. In his arms my body relaxed, and slowly the coughing fit eased. “That’s it,” he said, rubbing my arms. “Just breathe.”
I closed my eyes and took in a long, wheezing inhale, then another, until the band clamping down on my ribs eased and I could breathe normally again.
Shep’s hold on me loosened, and then I felt his fingers move down to the edge of my shirt. “Can you lift your arms for me?”
I nodded even though I wasn’t sure how well any of my body parts worked at this point. It was like lifting a fucking car to hold them up over my head, but I did it and that was what mattered.
With careful hands, he pulled my shirt off, and I had to grit my teeth so I didn’t hiss in pain.
He tossed the shirt on the floor, and when I caught his eyes inspecting every inch of my body in the mirror, I could see the fury boiling over as his jaw clenched tight.
“Fuck.”
I looked over the cuts along my wrists and arms and the deepening bruises, especially from the kicks to my ribs, and knew they would be looking even more gruesome tomorrow.
“Well,” I said, “could be worse.”
Shep shook his head and turned me to face him, leaning me back against the counter. Then his gentle fingers skimmed over my bruised skin. “Does it hurt to breathe?”
“No. But the coughing’s a bitch.”
“Probably just badly bruised, but we need to get you checked to see if any of your ribs are cracked.”
