So he grasped my hand, positioned my wrist and forearm with care, then gently changed the angle and applied slight pressure as he worked. It took several minutes and the pain shooting up my arm nearly caused me to black out, but once my shoulder slid back into place, the relief was instant. My upper body throbs despite the care I’m taking to keep my arm pinned to my front. Besides the lingering adrenaline surge making my stomach roll, I feel significantly better than I did only minutes ago.
I asked him how he knew how to set a dislocated shoulder. He responded with a scowl. Nothing more. That was all the answer I needed.
“If you’d be more comfortable sitting up, I can help. But you have to keep your arm steady. Stabilizing your shoulder should be the priority.”
I release a jagged sigh. “This is fine. Thank you.”
Once he’s done fussing over me, he sits back and hangs his head between his knees, breathing deeply. With a huff, he pulls out his phone and checks Sawyer and Noah’s location again. Sawyer hung up once Tytus confirmed I was okay and that we were together.
His hands are trembling—I can tell by the way the glow from his phone flickers across his face.
“They’re still a few minutes away,” he murmurs, shaking his head.
“Are you okay?”
He’s slow to respond, but eventually he mutters, “Yeah. Fine. Just not a fan of cramped, dark places, is all.”
It takes every ounce of self-discipline I possess not to point of the irony of him jumping down into this hole. I’m not ungrateful. I’m simply aware of the mental and physical sacrifices associated with what he chose to do.
And I’m aware that I’m not worth such sacrifices.
He shouldn’t have done this. I explicitly told him not to do this.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he mumbles.
“Care to share with the class?”
He snickers. “Always in teaching mode, huh, prof?”
I shrug and instantly regret it. Stifling a groan, I joke, “You’ve benefited from some of my more recent lessons.”
Disappointingly, Tytus doesn’t take the bait. He’s quiet for a beat, then he releases a long sigh. “You’re thinking I didn’t fully consider coming down here. That it’s going to be harder on Noah now, trying to fish us both out of this hole.”
“So why’d you do it?” I press, the question coming out softly. I’m curious. I’m also secretly terrified of the truth. If he tells me he doesn’t know why or admits this wasn’t worth it—
“I couldn’t stand the idea of you being in pain. If there was something I could do that would make this even a little less awful for you, I needed to do it.”
“Because of her,” I tack on.
Head lifted, he scrutinizes me. “No, Mercer. Because you’ve been through enough. You shouldn’t have to suffer unnecessarily. Your happiness—fuck.” He tips his head back, staring up through the hole in the porch. “Your happiness is important to me.Youare important to me.”
The waiting sarcastic jab dies on my tongue.
Fuck.
My chest tightens, and a combination of anxiety and humility inspire a fresh wave of nausea.
“You’re right. It was stupid of you to come down here,” I start. “Noah is going to be beside himself.” A small sigh escapes, even that small move causing pain to shoot through me. “But I’m grateful you’re here. That you knew what to do, and that you were willing to do it. I’m… I’m glad you’re here. Thank you.”
Tytus shifts up to his knees, cracking his knuckles as he regards me. “No one should have to suffer alone in the dark.”
We’re both quiet until the sound of a truck tearing up the driveway cuts through the silence.
Chapter fifty-six
Sawyer
“Sawyer! Don’t you dare.”
