“Mikayla…”
“No, let me finish.” Her voice cracks, and she pulls her hands out from under the blankets, staring at the welts from the zip tie. “I could barely feel my fingers. When I tripped, I almost went over, but there were these branches. I tried to push myself back, but then he grabbed my ankle—“
“Who?” She’s lost in her memories, panic edging her tone, and if I can’t pull her out, she could end up with another asthma attack. I take her right hand and lay her fingers over the bracelet I bought her. “You’re safe, Mik. With me. No one’s going to hurt you here.”
She fiddles with the beads, and I reach over for the first aid kit, digging out a roll of gauze and some ointment. “I’m going to wrap up your wrists so these welts don’t get infected, okay?”
She nods, watching me as I tend to her. Her breathing is steadier now, and I try to get just a little bit more information out of her. Because when we get back to town and I know she’s not seriously injured, I’m going after these assholes. “Can you tell me anything more about what happened? Who grabbed your ankle?”
She flinches, and I rub her fingers. “The bigger one. Ar-Arturo.”
“How many of them were there?”
“Three. When I found them at the site, I tried to run, but I couldn’t breathe.” Her expression shutters, like she can’t stand to remember, and I don’t want to press her any more, but after a minute, she closes her eyes and whispers, “They wanted to kill me. Or s-sell m-me. Along with the orchids. I got away before...before they could get me into their truck, but I wasn’t fast enough. And they were shooting at me...” Tears tumble down her cheeks, and I gently wipe them away with my thumbs. “I can’t believe you found me.”
“I’ll always find you, sweetheart. Always.” I press a chaste kiss to her forehead, then sit up with her in my arms. “Will you let me see your back and shoulder? The blankets will keep you mostly covered.”
Mikayla shudders, but nods, and when I release her and scoot back, she lowers the blankets just enough, I can see her tight nipples straining against her sports bra. Her right shoulder is half a dozen different shades of purple, and I gently trace the edges of the bruising, then take her arm at the elbow. “I just want to see when it starts to hurt. Keep holding the blankets with your other hand.
She does as I ask, and thankfully, she seems to have full range of motion. Not like when I woke up in that godawful hospital in Pakistan. Her left side is worse, but again, she can move, albeit carefully.
A shiver runs through her, though the fire has warmed the air well enough. She’s still cold. Probably will be until I can get some food into her. Shit. Why haven’t I tried to get her to eat something?
“Austin?” Her uncertain tone pulls me out of my own head. Shit. She’s more exposed than she’s ever been with me, biting her lip like she’s just made the biggest mistake of her life, and I’m sitting here having a whole conversation with myself rather than with her.
I follow her gaze to the blankets bunched around my hips and the very obvious tenting from my dick. Goddammit. I didn’t even realize... This is inappropriate as fuck. She was justthrownoff a mountain, and touching her is still making me hard.
I shift my legs to hide the evidence of my arousal, and she looks away. “Deep breaths, sweetheart. I’m going to see how far down your back the bruising goes. You still okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
She’s not, but I have to make sure she doesn’t have any internal bleeding. Scooting behind her, I wrap one hand around her waist just below her breasts to hold the blankets.
“Relax. Drop your arms.” Mik does as I ask, but from the tension that springs to her shoulders, she’s either in pain or incredibly uncomfortable with how exposed she is. “Did you land on your back?”
After another shuddering breath, she clears her throat. “I think so. Kind of, anyway. After I fell, everything went fuzzy.”
“I’m just going to run my hand over your abdomen. If anything feels worse than a bruise, tell me.” Under the blankets, I palpate gently, checking her ribs, her left and right sides, and though her body tenses up more than once, her body language tells me she’s more nervous than in pain. When I’m done, I press a kiss to the curve of her neck. “All done. You’re okay, and I won’t ever let them touch you again.”
Gooseflesh races down her arms, and I start gently kneading her shoulders around the bruises. A low moan escapes her lips, and shit. I’m so aroused, it’s painful. Until I focus on the dark purple splotches right above her bra.
“Mik.” I can’t do this. Can’t touch her without thinking about how close she came to dying. Wrapping both arms around her from behind, I plant a kiss behind her ear as she starts to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”
She tries to turn, but tangled in the blankets, something must hurt her, and she hisses out a breath. “Don’t apologize,” she says through her tears. “I just need you to make me feel safe again.” The tremble in her voice breaks me, and I pull the sleeping bag up and over both of us, guiding her back down and draping her over my chest so she can lay her head on my shoulder.
By degrees, Mik starts to relax, and when her breathing evens out and the tension has left her body, I close my eyes and let myself sleep with this woman I think I might be able to love.
Mikayla
Stretching, I try to ignore the twinges of pain arcing through my body. The first rays of light stream through the rotting roof, and while I’m warm, I’m also very much alone.
I wasn’t. Not all night. Austin held me, whispered to me when I cried, and kept me safe, only leaving my side once to stoke the fire. I don’t think he knew I was awake, but I watched him. Wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, he gathered twigs and small branches from just outside the little building’s entrance and arranged them carefully before spreading our clothes out to dry.
When he turned back to me, the firelight played over his abs, his scarred chest, his strong, muscular legs, and for a brief moment, something had stirred inside of me. Something I had no business feeling out here—in a crumbling building several centuries old, injured, terrified, and possibly still hunted.
“Austin?” I call as I push myself up on an elbow. The motion makes my back ache, but I feel better than I think I should after falling so far and being trapped on that ledge for so long. “Where are you?”
“Right here, sweetheart.” He ducks back inside, wearing his boots and black pants, but no shirt. “Just had to, um…use the facilities.”
