Zander was still in the bedroom when they returned, and Spence told him, “You have work to do, finding the bastards who did this. I’ve got her.”
Zander hesitated and Emmy could feel the weight of his presence — and the way he didn’t want to leave. But then he nodded, and he was gone.
The door closed behind him, and the room felt both emptier and somehow easier to breathe in.
“He’s worried about you,” Spence said quietly, helping her back into bed. “He’s just not good at showing it.”
“He’s good at avoiding me,” Emmy muttered.
Spence’s mouth curved into a smile. “Not anymore. He put you in our bed.”
Right. She’d already figured that out, but having it verified made it even heavier.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
Spence chuckled and handed her shirt to her, which she immediately put on.
“Get comfortable, and I’ll give you a foot massage to help relax you. Go ahead and text Rhea and Felix to let them know you’re okay. No pictures from the bedroom, so you can’t video chat with them from here, or send them selfies. We have an office with a blank wall behind the chair. Once you’re up to sitting in a chair, you can video chat with them from there.”
Spence lifted the blanket and sheets away from her feet, and his wolf-warm hands wrapped around her left foot, thumbs pressing into her arch with firm, steady pressure.
The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. Emmy’s entire body had been clenched tight with pain, nausea, and humiliation, and it began to soften. Spence worked methodically, finding knots she didn’t know existed, applying pressure that bordered on painful but somehow released tension.
“You’ve been taking care of everyone else since the mammal poisoning,” Spence said, his voice low and soothing, still working her foot. “Running yourself ragged, making sure Felix, Toby, and Maren had what they needed, but you didn’t rest. Now it’s time to let us take care ofyou.”
“I’m fine,” Emmy said automatically, even though it was obviously a lie.
“You’re not fine. You’re sick, scared, and in pain.” Spence moved to her other foot, his touch just as sure. “And that’s okay. You’re allowed to be all of those things.”
Emmy felt her eyes prickling with tears again, and she blinked them back furiously. “I don’t want to be weak in front of him.”
“Being vulnerable isn’t the same as being weak.” Spence’s hands stilled for a moment, and he met her gaze. “Emmy, he carried you down here himself. Wouldn’t let anyone else touch you. That’s not the action of someone who thinks you’re weak. He understands your strength, and he helped make sure no one else saw you while you’re vulnerable because of the poison.”
“He doesn’t even look at me most of the time,” Emmy said, andfuck, she sounded pathetic. “He’s been avoiding me for months.”
“I know.” Spence resumed the massage, working up to her calf with gentle but firm strokes. “But he’s not avoiding you now. He brought you to the safest place in the silo — his own suite.”
Emmy closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the mattress, into the careful ministrations of Spence’s hands, into the feeling of being cared for. The cramps were still there, a dull ache in her gut, but the touch helped. The ice had helped. Beingherehelped, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Spence’s hand squeezed her ankle gently. “Anytime. Now close your eyes and try to rest. I’ll be right here if you need anything. Bathroom, more ice, someone to hold your hair back — whatever you need.”
Her mind wandered all over the place, through what the poison might be doing to her system, to how the poison might’ve been put into the stew, and then to Zander. It seemed Spence might be in the mood to answer questions, so she asked, “Why does he care now? After months of pretending I don’t exist?”
Spence was quiet for a long moment, his hands still working her muscles with practiced care. “I think he’s always cared, but…” He focused on a tight muscle a few dozen seconds. “But seeing you sick, seeing you hurt … Sometimes fear makes us stupid, and sometimes crisis makes us brave.”
Emmy didn’t have an answer to that. She just lay there, letting Spence’s touch ground her.
Chapter 28
Emmy’s eyes snapped open in the dark, her gut twisting with a violence that told her she needed tomove.
She threw the covers off and lunged for the bathroom, her legs barely holding her weight as she stumbled across the short distance that felt like miles. Her shoulder hit the doorframe and she ricocheted off it, collapsing onto the toilet just as her bowels exploded in a rush of liquid that burned on the way out.
A sob tore from her throat — part pain, part humiliation, part exhaustion. She braced her elbows on her knees, head hanging, as her body emptied itself again. And again.
She heard footsteps, and she didn’t have the energy to tell Spence to leave.
