Chapter Four
KRUGER
I hearher breath hitch in her chest. She’s not as unaffected by me as she pretends to be.
She swallows the pills before parting her lips for the glass once more. I tip it up and hold it for her as she drinks. Watching her swallow makes my cock throb with need as I picture her swallowing something else.
Eventually, she pulls back. I place the glass on the floor, out of the way, and reach down to pick her up and carry her to the sofa.
She groans, making me stop.
“You okay?”
“Trying not to throw up the pills you just gave me,” she admits, sounding miserable. If she were feeling like her usual self, she’d have dive-bombed out of my arms by now.
I lower her to the sofa before grabbing the wastepaper basket and putting it on the floor beside her, just in case.
“Maybe you should try eating something—something light.”
She frowns but nods before gingerly lying down on the couch and curling into a ball.
I look her over for a second, feeling wildly out of my depth. I’ve never taken care of anyone before. Well, if you don’t count that goldfish I won from the state fair when I was a kid. I didn’t. It died within a week.
I swallow before heading to the kitchen, hoping I don’t fuck things up more. At this point, I’m not sure how I could make it worse.
I rummage through the cupboards and settle on tomato soup and grilled cheese, something that’s comforting and relatively easy for her to eat. I keep my eye on her while I cook, but she doesn’t stir. It’s unnerving, to say the least. Once I’m done, I place it all on a tray and carry it over to the couch, then set it on the coffee table. I rub my fingers across her cheek, pausing when her eyes snap open. For a second, it’s as if she doesn’t know where she is. Her eyes focus on me, and she takes in a shuddering breath.
“Food’s ready.”
She tries to move, so I help her sit up before grabbing the tray and placing it on her lap. She stares down at the food, looking unsure for a moment, before she reaches for the spoon, all without a word. She scoops up a spoonful of soup, but her hands are shaking so badly that the soup sloshes everywhere. I gently take the spoon and dip it in her soup before raising it to her lips. She hesitates before opening her mouth, a pink blush covering her cheeks.
She avoids looking me in the eye as I continue to spoon-feed her a little more before dipping the grilled cheese in her soup and urging her to take a bite.
“How you feeling?”
She shrugs but keeps chewing. This Delphi is seemingly at odds with the version that stumbled down the stairs before. I shut up, content to watch her eat. Once she’s done, I reach up without thought and use my thumb to swipe the bit of tomatosoup from her bottom lip. I slip my thumb into my mouth and lick it clean. She watches me with wide, confused eyes before taking a shaky breath and turning away.
“Thank you for the food. I think it’s time for me to leave, though. I’m feeling much better.” Her voice has taken on an odd robotic quality that makes the hair on my arms stand on end.
I take the tray into the kitchen and return with a fresh bottle of water. I open it and hand it to her. Her hand still shakes as she takes it from me, but not as much as before.
“Why don’t you rest for a little longer?”
“All I’ve done is rest for a month. I have to get back to normal.”
“You had fucking brain surgery, Delphi. Twice. Cut yourself some slack.”
She tips her head up to look at me but says nothing.
“You want me to carry you back upstairs, or do you want to stay here on the couch?”
“I want to go home,” she replies, her voice small and nothing like the Delphi I know.
“And where’s home, Delphi?” I ask her, which is a dick thing to do.
A look of anger crosses her face, and something akin to relief fills me. This is the Delphi I’m more familiar with.
“Why would I risk finding another home for you just to burn it down when you get pissed at me again?”
