“No.”
“That wasn’t a question.” Doc loops my arm over his shoulder, grits his teeth, and helps me to my feet. His groan tears at my soul.
“Stop. You’re hurting yourself.” I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let go until he deposits me back onto his bed. “Stay there. You need another dose of antibiotics.”
His breathing is too shallow. Too rapid. And under his arm, a small spot of blood seeps into his pale green shirt. He limps out of the room before I can beg him to stay. To listen.
All of this is my fault. Chris. Logan. Doc. I’ve hurt so many people by not being honest with any of them. By not realizing I can’t handle this on my own.
He comes back with a small black pouch. Without even glancing in my direction, he fills a syringe from a clear vial.
I’ve had enough of this. “Doc? Sit down.”
“Not yet. This goes in your thigh or your ass. You pick.”
“Thigh,” I snap. If he wants surly, I’ll show him surly. Two can play at this game.
It burns going in. Enough to bring tears to my eyes. But after he caps the needle and tosses it back into the pouch, I reach for his hand. “Your turn. Sit down.”
“Nat—”
“No. You’re bleeding. Sit down. Now.”
He’s wary. I can’t blame him. I made him feel like I didn’t care—like I didn’twantto care—when nothing could be further from the truth.
He sinks down onto the mattress. My fingers aren’t entirely steady, but I manage to undo the buttons and ease the shirt off his shoulders. All his bruises are so much darker today. Tracingone of the worst of them with my fingers, I fight the tidal wave of emotion about to pull me under. “Doc…God. I’m so sorry.”
The warmth of his skin seeps into my palm. Even with the ache from the fever, my body reacts to his closeness. His scent. The way he covers my hand with his and squeezes gently. “For what? You didn’t break into your own house and throwyourselfoff the balcony.”
“About that second part,” I say quietly as I guide his arm up so he can rest his hand on my shoulder. The hospital bandage comes away easily. There isn’t a lot of blood, but it still worries me. “I might have…well…”
“You mean Parker didn’t?—?”
I huff out a laugh. “I hit him with my watering can, then jumped.”
His eyes widen. “You could have broken your neck.”
“I know how to fall.” Plucking the antibiotic spray from the nightstand, I rest my free hand just above his waist. “It’s only bleeding a little. But you have to stop this. You’re putting your own life at risk…for me.”
Doc nods to the tattoo covering his bicep.
That others may life.
“This is who I am, Nat. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been out for almost fifteen years. I can’t…nottake care of you. I don’t know how.” With a shallow sigh, he closes his eyes. “Do what you need to do. But distract me. Tell me how you learned to fall.”
“In Ranger School.”
He’s not prepared for that answer. Fair enough, since I wasn’t prepared to give it. The spray hits his wound, and he hisses out a breath. “Fuck, that burns.”
“You really are a terrible patient.” It feels good to smile. Even better to sit so close to this man I’ve wanted to know for so long and joke around with him. “What did you expect?”
“To come home and sleep for a few hours. To call Gladys and hope she could help me track you down.” He reaches up and traces the edge of the swelling under my eye. “I should call her anyway. Or you should. She’ll be worried about you once she gets back to Blakely and discovers you’re not there.”
“Shit. She can’t…” My heart pounds so hard, I’m afraid Doc willhearit. “She has to stay away from my house. All the blood… If she calls the police, they’ll find out. They’ll use her to get to me. I need my phone. Where’s my phone?—?”
I’m suddenly dizzy. The walls are closing in. Trapping me. Squeezing the life out of me.
“Nat. Look at me.” His sharp words slice through the panic, but fighting my way free is too hard. My eyes burn. I’m on fire, but freezing at the same time. Shaking. Until my cheek presses to his chest, and it’shisheart beat I hear,hisvoice rumbling through me.
