Chapter 30
Nina
Jay drives us to Darin’s house. The moment he has the truck in park, Lauren hops out of the front passenger seat and opens Darin’s door. I’ve been snuggled under his arm the whole way home.
“Mom.” Jay hurries around and pulls her away from the door.
“She’s my sister. I want to help.”
Darin slides out, pulling me with him. Once my feet are on the ground, I reach for Lauren’s hand. “Walk us to the door?”
She looks up at Darin. She wants to stay, but I know she’ll hover over me. I want her to, but not right now.
“Okay, Sissi.” She’s not happy, but gives in.
“I promise to see you tomorrow,” I offer a compromise.
“All right.” She wraps me in a hug while Darin unlocks the door. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.” I hold her tight for a long moment before going inside.
“Let’s get you upstairs.” With an arm around my back, he guides me toward the stairs. Halfway across the living room, myknees buckle. “Whoa, love.” Darin bends down, places his other arm under my knees, and scoops me up.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
“You just went through a traumatic experience. You’re coming down from the emotion.” He carries me to his bedroom.
I’m a nurse. I know that. I’ve seen it hundreds of times. When a patient realized they were in a safe place, or at least where they knew they’d get help, they let go of their anxiety, some fear, and adrenaline.
Darin sets me on the side of the bed and kneels. “What do you need?”
I wrap my hands around the one he has on my thigh. “I don’t know yet.”
“That’s understandable. You don’t have to rush to figure it out.”
He’s so sweet and patient. My eyes drop to the blood-stained hand I’m holding.
“Do you have a first aid kit?”
“In the bathroom.” His eyes flick to the master bathroom.
“Come on.” I push off the bed, not letting go of his hand.
“What do you need? I’ll get it.”
“Your hands are bleeding. We need to clean and treat them.”
“Okay, love. Hold on.” He lifts me onto the counter and grabs the first aid kit from under the sink.
“I’m treating you, big guy.”
“Yes, ma’am, and you can do it just fine from there.” He opens the kit and sets it next to the sink. “Just tell me what you need.”
“We need to wash your hands first.”
He turns on the water, pumps soap into his hands, and washes them. I lay a towel across my lap and reach for the alcohol wipes in the kit. With his hands on my lap, I pat them dry before opening the wipes. He hisses as I dab the wounds. I swallow hard. He did this to himself for me.
“Did you kill him?” I don’t look up. I can’t.
