Carefully, she made her way into the house, hyper-aware of Gus trailing a few feet behind. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, wishing she were already inside the privacy of her own space so she could give in and cry her heart out.
She’d never felt this low. Ever.
Instead, she took the stairs slowly and was almost to her apartment when her knees buckled, and she would have ended up on the floor, but two strong arms grabbed hold of her and held her close. She didn’t need her legs to stand on because he did the standing for her. And in that moment, his heat and strength were a comfort she didn’t know she needed. In fact, her body, which up until now had been held rigid, relaxed, and she melted into him.
He smelled like the forest — pine and earth and air.
Unaware of the lone tear that made its way down her face, she looked up at him and froze when he gently pressed it away.
“Is your door unlocked?” His voice was gruff.
She nodded, unable to answer because there was a big old lump in her throat, and she was afraid that if she did try to speak, she’d sound like a complete idiot.
Gus led her inside the apartment and closed the door behind them. Taco happily ran toward the kitchenette and his food and water bowls while Gus led her to the sofa. She was shivering by this point, her skin slick with fever, her hair sticking to her sweaty neck.
“Do you have any cold and flu meds?”
She shook her head.
“Juice?”
Again, she shook her head, her teeth chattering while she tried to answer. “I haven’t had time to get organized or anything.”
He sighed and frowned. “I’ll be back.”
She wanted to protest. Tell him she didn’t need his help. She wanted to crawl into bed and disappear from the world. Wanted to forget. Wanted to be home again, surrounded by her family.
But everything she wanted was gone. Everything she wanted had been a fraud.
Gus appeared a few moments later with a large blanket that he draped over her before heading into the kitchenette. He returned with a glass of orange juice and some pain meds.
“Take two of these and drink all the juice. Go to bed and I’ll check on you before I leave for work in a couple of hours.”
Faith downed the pills and finished her juice before falling back onto the sofa. “You don’t have to . . .” Her mouth was dry, and it was hard to speak. “I can look after myself.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, lady, but it doesn’t look like you can.”
Her eyes shot open, and she winced at the fresh wave of pain that carved its way across her forehead.
“There’s nothing wrong with needing a hand.” He stood back. “Do you want me to help you to bed?”
“No,” she answered sharply. Maybe a little too sharply. “I can manage in a bit. I’m fine here for now.”
“Okay.” Gus stepped back. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll be back later.”
He was almost to the door when Faith croaked. “What were you doing out there?”
He paused, those dark eyes of his not giving anything away. “Thinking.”
She licked at her dry lips. “You can’t do that in your apartment?”
He held her gaze a heartbeat longer. “No.”
Then he was gone, and she fell back onto the sofa, exhausted and sad and more than a little anxious. She was supposed tostart a new job in less than eight hours and felt as if she’d just been hit by a freight train. Her cash would only go so far. She needed this job.
“I’m kinda screwed, Taco.”
The dog climbed up onto the sofa and cuddled into her side. Faith drew the heavy blanket up to her chin, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. She knew that sleep was the only thing that could help her and prayed her body would let it happen.
