Embarrassment warms my cheeks. I have to change into the clinic gown that exposes my backside.
Dr. York arrives shortly after Mimi leaves to conduct his routine assessment and ask his questions of the day. I probably should tell him about the new pain in my back and the stomach discomfort. But I don’t want to endure more tests, scans, and another treatment plan. I’m sure, with a short nap, I will be fine. I’ve been pushing myself, which Dr. York warns me about.
With another cross over my heart, I promise to sleep tonight after I finish my shake. I really can’t wait to get this stupid tube out of my stomach. Maybe it is causing some of the discomfort. If it’s still there tomorrow, I’ll tell him then. After Dr. York leaves, I lift the glass and drink.
Frowning at the pale-yellow concoction, I only manage to swallow a third of it. I already feel full.
“You have some of it on your upper lip.” Jumping at the sound of Liam’s voice, I look over at him. I swipe at my lip with my fingers. He chuckles, stands, and pulls a paper napkin from the dispenser on the wall near the sink. Dragging the chair Dr. York sat in earlier closer, he straddles it and resumes reading.
Seriously, is he going to sit there in front of me while I drink this crappy-ass drink? But he doesn’t move, nor does he look up from his book. Looking down at my hands, I don’t know what to do with myself. Even if Sodie can’t hear my thoughts, he talks to me about various topics. Glancing around the room, like I haven’t done it a million times already, my mind wanders back to Liam’s fight.
Did he learn how to fight in the program? Gods, to think I tried to stop it myself because Ean wasn’t doing a damn thing.Like I could ever protect someone like Liam. I didn’t exactly do a stellar job protecting myself, obviously. I wonder if I will be able to stay here? Would Anders teach me how to fight like Liam. If whoever hurt me found me again, then I could fight them off, or at least defend myself.
I chance a peek at Liam, only to find him staring at me. Shit! Quickly searching for a distracting task, I attempt to finish my shake. Making sure I wipe my face with the napkin, I set the glass down and scoot into bed, feigning interest in my book.
“I worried that I scared you off, after you watched that fight,” he confesses.
I frown. I was overwhelmed at first but mostly concerned about him. I was more frustrated with Ean for not interfering. Swiveling around to face him, I shake my head, dropping my gaze to my lap.
“I heard you went straight to Anders, and you shared what you witnessed to him.”
Still averting my eyes, I nod.
A soft laugh escapes him. I blush at the sound. “I also heard you tried to stop the fight, and Ean stopped you.”
I want to bury my face in this mattress and suffocate myself with the blankets right now. Gods, hearing him say it makes me feel like a complete idiot.
His large hand rests on my knee. “Thank you for having my back. I don’t encounter that very often. It meant a lot to me that you would even try, especially knowing what you’ve been through.”
Nodding briskly, I stare at his hand. His thumb gently brushes the fabric of my pants a few times before he removes it. An uncomfortable silence surrounds us. I shift back, leaning against the mattress, and take a final sidelong look at him before picking up my book again.
“You should get some sleep,” he proclaims.
The clock on my wall indicates it’s barely eight o’clock. I narrow my eyes. I don’t intend to fall asleep this early.
He sighs, stands from his chair, turns on the lamp near my bed, and switches off the overhead light. Returning to my bedside, he holds out his hand. “Book.”
I shake my head. He motions with a “gimme” gesture. Pouting, I plop the book in his open palm. He places it next to his on the table. Hmm, he’s readingThe Art of War. I read that two nights ago.
“Glasses.”
I cross my arms over my chest and wrinkle my nose.
He chuckles and repeats, “Glasses.”
I roll my eyes, remove my lenses, and hand them over. He presses the button that lowers the head of my bed, grabs his book, and returns to his chair.
Lying flat on my back is uncomfortable, but I don’t want to turn my back to him or face him. Why is he sitting there? My face feels warm. I like it better when he isn’t so close. I squirm, trying to find a more comfortable position, but I can’t take it. Finally laying on my side, I avoid looking directly at him.
“Most people close their eyes when they sleep,” he mumbles.
I sigh. Suddenly, a sharp pain tears through the center of my body. I tuck my knees up to my chest, but this time, the pain doesn’t dissipate. I squeeze my eyes closed and will the pain away. That doesn’t work either.
A warm hand grasps my shoulder. Before I can open my eyes to look up, a wave of nausea hits me. Pushing myself up into a sitting position, everything starts to spin. I feel myself fall forward or sideways, unsure which direction is up or down.
As the dizziness starts to recede, I slowly open one eye. Liam stands in front of me, holding me upright. Another sharp pain rips through my body, more intense than the first. Resting my head on Liam’s chest, I attempt to regulate my breathing, butthe pain is unbearable. Nausea overcomes me, and my stomach clenches. I try to push Liam away, but it is too late.
I cover my face, mortified, when another rush of pain and nausea begins again. It feels like someone is stabbing me through my back into my stomach.
