I return my attention to her foot, starting the first stitch. The local anesthetic has done its job, but I still work as gently as possible. Each suture brings the edges of torn skin back together, closing the damage from today's chaos.
"You're different from what I thought you'd be," she says quietly, watching my hands work. "When I first met you, I thoughtyou were just another soldier. Someone who follows orders and doesn't ask questions."
Another stitch. "I do follow orders. Most of the time."
"And today? Am I part of your orders?"
I tie off the third stitch, checking my work. "No, you're not. Today I had better priorities."
I continue working on the fourth stitch, keeping my hands steady despite the weight of her question. I can feel her pulse through the delicate skin of her ankle.
"Watching me today? Was that the priority? You must have been watching me for you to get there so fast."
I tie off the fourth stitch and start preparing the fifth. "Yes. I was watching you."
"Why?"
"Last night, I turned around for you. But as I was walking to the parking area, I saw Shane talking to another man." Fee goes very still. Even her breathing seems to pause. "I decided to do what I do best. Be on guard in case you needed help."
The fifth stitch pulls the wound closed another fraction. "I was ready to kill that bastard if he'd done something to hurt you."
"Do you know who the man is?" I finish the fifth stitch and reach for the thread to tie it off.
"He's an informant. But I don't trust him."
"Why?"
"In this business, informants go with the highest bidder." I start the sixth and final stitch, taking extra care to make it clean. "This particular one needs our protection. I can't say I've seen anything wrong from him, but he's never given me a good feeling either."
"So, you watched me walk around in the parking lot!"
"Yes."
I tie off the final stitch, checking my work one more time. Six neat sutures close the wound completely; the bleeding has finally stopped.
Fee processes this. I look at her studying my face.
"You saw me crying?"
"I did."
"And you still didn't come talk to me!" The accusation in her voice cuts deeper than any blade. I wrap the clean gauze aroundher foot, securing it with medical tape, buying myself a few seconds to choose my words carefully.
"Did you want me to?" I meet her eyes directly, holding her gaze. "After what I did in that garden?"
She opens her mouth, then closes it again, and I can see the honest answer she's not ready to give.
"I saw you get in the SUV with Shane. You were crying, Fee. Because I let fear make my decisions for me."
She searches my face, her green eyes moving over my features like she's seeing me for the first time. Then her hands come up to cover her mouth, fingertips pressed together like she's praying.
When she finally speaks, her voice is softer, more serene.
"I assume you followed us to the hotel last night."
"I went to your floor. Almost knocked on your door but decided that crossing that line uninvited wasn't something a gentleman does."
Fee's eyebrows raise slightly. "You men in the mafia are known to push boundaries, taking without asking."
