Celine looked past Aaron’s shoulder. A nun in a black robe, her face uncovered and filled with sympathy, gave him a handtowel.
“Celine, this is Sister Mary Catherine, she's been tending to your injuries.” As if scared he might break her, Aaron gently touched her right arm.
Celine jerked at the contact and he yanked his hand back, a flash of pain flickering across his gaze. “You ripped out your IV. I need to stop the bleeding.” He nodded toward her arm and Celine glanced down to see blood oozing out of her arm. And that she was naked from the waist up. She swallowed and stared up at Aaron as tears filled her eyes.
His gaze held hers as he gently answered her silent plea and raised the sheet.
“I'm – I'm sorry.”
“Shh, you don't have anything to be sorry for. You woke up in a strange place, scared and alone,” he said.
He looked at her with such understanding her chest squeezed and another wave of tears welled. Celine bit her lip, afraid to talk and not sure what she would say anyway.
“I’m going to take off these restraints. We were trying to make sure you didn’t wake up and accidentally fall from the bed until the drugs wore off.” He offered her a tight smile; one that didn’t reach his eyes at all.
“Okay,” she said.
His movements hesitant, Aaron pulled the Velcro bands from her wrists. His fingers brushed her skin for a whisper of a second and then he eased back. Celine felt the loss of that contact immediately.
Sister Mary Catherine came around to the other side of the bed and placed the stack of gauze near her hip. “I'm going to put pressure on the wound and then wrap it and get you cleaned up. Okay?”
The Sister waited for Celine’s nod of approval before tending to her arm. Her wrinkled hands moved with efficiency. The nun discarded the dirty gauze and then opened a metalcabinet right behind her and pulled out a gown. All the while Aaron hovered protectively to her left, not getting too close or too far away. His presence helped take the edge off her frayed nerves and she silently prayed he would stay.
“Sir, would you mind stepping from the room while I help her change?” Sister Mary Catherine said.
Aaron stood, hesitating at her side.
Celine went cold. “No!”
He froze.
“I want him to stay.” Her panic didn't ease until he was back at her side, holding the demons at bay.
Sister Mary Catherine clucked her tongue and said, “My dear, I can change you, it will only be a few minutes.”
“He can do it.” Her mind was in a fog, unable to grasp anything that was real and only able to latch onto one truth – Aaron made her feel safe.
“I’ll help her. You can go now,” Aaron said, this time more insistently. If Celine didn’t want anyone but him in the room, he was going to make damn sure every one of her wants were met from this point forward.
The nun pinned Aaron with a hard stare and Celine was thankful the woman's wrath was not directed at her.
“Fine, but I will be back in five minutes to clean the floors and change the sheets.” Sister Mary Catherine dropped the new gown on Celine's legs and quietly left the room.
“Celine, are you sure you want me here?”
“Yes, I want you. Just – don't leave, please.”
“I'll do whatever you need me to do.” He took her hand in his, her skin warming in his grip, his touch flooding her senses with the overwhelming sensation of protection.
“Can you help me sit up?”
He put an arm behind her and helped ease her up into a sitting position. A wave of dizziness rolled around inside her head as if she’d spun on a tilt-a-whirl. She grabbed his otherarm and he held her, strong and steady. She waited until the dizzy spell passed, held the sheet to her chest and then swung her legs around to dangle off the bed. Everything about this room was sterile: the walls, the florescent lights, the silver medical devices. Everything except for her blood covering the floor.
Careful to miss the drops, she eased one and then the other foot onto the floor, but the room tilted again. Strong, warm hands circled her waist. “I’ve got you.”
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome,” he whispered, his rough voice tickling her ear. “Can you stand up on your own?”
