Page 53 of River Wild

An expression I don’t like flickers in his eyes.

Pity.

I don’t know exactly what’s on my face that’s making him look at me that way, but I can hazard a guess. I school my features to normal. That I can do. I’m well trained in it.

Calm down. He’s not Neil. You’re safe.

He walks closer to me. His movements slow, measured. “It’s just a little blood, Red. Don’t worry about it. Sit down. Let me take a look at your foot.”

“I’m fine. Honestly. I’ll just go.” I really want to just get out of here.

I make to move, but his words stop me.

“Red, sit.” His voice is firm but not harsh. More … concerned.

So, I give in. I hobble over to the sofa and sit down.

River follows and kneels at my feet. He lifts my foot with his hand, looking at my toe. “Just a little cut. I’ll clean it up and put a Band-Aid on it, and you’ll be fine.”

“You don’t have to.”

His dark eyes meet with mine. “I know. But I’m still going to.”

He gets to his feet. I watch him disappear out the door, into what I guess is the kitchen.

He’s so confusing. One minute, he’s being a jerk to me. Then, in a click of fingers, he’s being nice.

I’m starting to think he might actually have split-personality disorder.

I can hear him rattling around. Cabinet doors opening and closing.

Then, he reappears with a first aid kit in hand.

He kneels back at my feet and opens the kit up. He takes my foot and rests it on his thigh. He takes an antiseptic wipe out of the kit. How do I know it’s an antiseptic wipe, you ask? Well, I’m very familiar with the inside of first aid kits. The regular beatings and not being able to go to the hospital meant that I had to be.

“This will sting a bit,” he says.

“I can handle pain.”

He briefly glances up at me. The look in his eyes unreadable.

Then, eyes back down, he presses the wipe to my toe and gently cleans it up.

When he’s done, he tosses the wipe back into the kit and gets a Band-Aid. He rips it open. But he doesn’t put it on straightaway.

He takes hold of my foot and lifts it up. Then, he leans his face down and softly blows on my toe, drying the wet from the wipe.

Sweet Jesus.

I know I’m not supposed to feel anything. But I do.

Parts of me I didn’t know existed start to sing.

I’m getting turned on from him blowing on my foot.

It confuses and surprises me.

Pregnancy hormones and seeing him naked have fuddled my brain.