"Most conversations in the bunker border on bonkers." Wynn checked Gideon's dressing. Her fingers traced the edges of the tape. "You're not bleeding through. That's good. I'll check again in two hours."
"Can I leave this bed before then?" Gideon asked.
"No," Both Darwin and Wynn said at the same time.
"What if I need to?—"
"No," Darwin repeated.
"You don't even know what I was going to say."
"You were going to ask if you could go to the comms room. The answer is no. You were stabbed four hours ago. You are staying in this bed tonight, tomorrow, and the day after that, and if you argue with me, I'll sedate you." Darwin lowered his chin.
"He will," Zadie said. "I've seen him do it."
"To whom?" Gideon asked.
Kane raised his hand.
Everyone in the room burst out laughing. Even Gideon, only he stifled it, clutching his side.
Zadie held Gideon's hand and glanced around the room. This was her family, and Gideon was the man she loved.
One of these days, she’d have to tell him that.
Gideon opened his eyes to a dark room and a cramp in his side that felt like someone had parked a truck on his ribs.
Blinking, he tried to get his eyes to focus. He shifted his gaze to his left. A monitor with his vitals glowed green. He turned his head to the right and smiled.
Zadie was asleep in the chair beside his bed. She had her legs pulled up beneath her, her head draped over her arm, and that same arm rested on his mattress, her fingers a few inches from his hand. Her hair was loose and tangled across her face. At some point, she'd changed out of her tactical gear and was now in sweats and one of his shirts, the gray one with the hole near the collar that he'd been meaning to throw away for a year.
The blanket draped over her legs was the one Shepherd kept on the back of the sofa in the family room, which meant someone had brought it to her and she still hadn't left.
He reached over and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. His side punished him for the movement and he sucked air through his teeth.
Her eyes popped open. The instant alertness of someone who'd trained themselves to wake up ready.
"Didn’t mean to startle you," he said.
"You didn’t." She sat up and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. "What time is it?"
"No idea. The lights are off so I'm guessing late. Or early. One can never tell in this place."
"It was two-thirty when I last checked." She dropped her hands and looked at him. Her gaze moved across his face, down to the bandage, back up. "How's the pain?"
"Five. Maybe six when I breathe." He’d learned not to be funny with her with this, so he was honest.
"Could be worse." She pulled the chair closer and rested her forearms on the edge of the mattress. Her chin settled on top of them. In the green glow of the monitor, her eyes were dark, steady, and he could get lost in them if he let himself.
"You stayed," he said.
"Where else would I go?"
"Your bed. Which has a mattress that doesn't smell like antiseptic and a pillow that isn't a rolled-up towel."
"Darwin agreed that if all goes well, tonight you can sleep in your own bed."
"Does that mean you’ll sleep in my bed too?"
