“You saved my life,” She looks to the pills, silently urging me to put them in my mouth, “On the street, you shielded me and got shot for it.”
“Those bullets were never intended for you.” I pick up one pill, “I’ll take one.”
“Can I ask why you’re against the meds?”
“Not a story I want to share,” I pop a single pill onto my tongue and swallow it down with a wash of water. “But how about a truth for a truth?”
I don’t have long before the pills make it impossible to form a coherent thought, so if she wants a part of my history, I want a part of hers.
Something dark flashes in her blue eyes, turning the tranquil sea stormy.
“I have nothing to share,” She lies through her teeth.
“Now come on, Butterfly,” I try to ease her with a playful grin, “The game is a truth for a truth, seems like poor sportsmanship to start it with a lie.”
Color blooms across her cheeks just as my head begins to swim.
“But looks like our time is up, Sloane.” I start to make my way from the room.
“I’m afraid of the dark,” She whispers to my back. I look over my shoulder, but she’s still facing away from me, her spine ramrod straight.
“Someone drugged me as a kid,” I answer her with a sliver of the truth as promised.
Her intake of breath is all the response I need. Pity doesn’t belong in my life.
Taking myself up to my bedroom, I try to keep myself alert, listening for both Sloane and Lily, but when all remains silent, I lock my bedroom door, limbs turning heavy. The pain has dulled to an ache, making it easier to breathe, and the relief has exhaustion sweeping in. I lay back on the bed, fighting the drug induced sleep, but even I know I’m not strong enough.
But Sloane has Lily, they’re both safe here so I don’t fight it for long.
Chapter Eighteen
Lily’s fever broke just after seven this evening, and while she’s still cranky and tired, her color has returned, and she’s feeding normally again. Dean is still sleeping, locked behind his bedroom door across the hall from the bathroom, and the only reason I know it’s locked is because I tried to go in there.
It’s been hours since he sealed himself away, and worry has gnawed at me. I expected him to wake up by now, especially since Lily’s nighttime routine is about to begin.
I swirl the water in the bath and check the temperature before I place her bath-chair beneath the water, the suction cups sticking it to the bottom. With the door left open so I can hear everything happening outside of the bathroom, I lower Lily into the water, my worries slipping away for a moment as I watch her swing her arms to splash at the sudsy water. She smiles with that gummy grin and does it again, flinging the water right onto me.
I’d expected it, which is why I’d placed a towel across my legs, but it still drenches my sweater and soaks through the towel onto my jeans. I let her continue for another couple of minutes before I take over and get her washed and clean. It’s when I’m wrapping her up in her warmed towel with the little hoodthat Dean’s door opens behind me. He pauses in the threshold, clothes a little rumpled and hair disheveled, his glasses missing.
There’s something so casually sexy about his just woke state, the way his hair sticks up and sleep still clings to his eyes.
He throws me a sleepy grin. “You’re staring.”
“Shit,” I hiss, snapping my head around fast enough that I could claim on insurance for whiplash.
His chuckle has goosebumps rising on my skin, but when his chest presses into my spine and his hand comes over my shoulder, I stop breathing all together. But, of course, he isn’t there for me.
He offers a thick finger to Lily who shoves at the towel to free her arm and grab it.
“Hi Lily Flower,” His voice softens with her, and with it, so does my heart. It makes a painful little thud in my chest, and the way she brightens looking at him, makes me want to melt. Despite his reservations and fears with her, this little girl already knows who her father is. She trusts him, and that right there is a beautiful thing.
“Let me get her dry,” I say through the grit in my throat, “And then I can help set you up so you can do her last feed before bed.”
He nods, “I’d like that, thanks.”
“Sure,” It comes out breezy, but I feel anything but. My skin is tight, and my heart is pounding. Agreeing to stay was a bad idea, even though I’d already made up my mindbeforewe made the bargain. There was no way I could leave him the way he is and with her sick too, it would have made me cruel.
I dry her down and dress her in her pajamas, then make my way down to Dean, who is preparing a bottle in the kitchen. He makes it look effortless, even with only the use of one arm.
