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“Fuck yes, I do!” I let out a breath. “Didn’t Iris tell you that? I mean, she’s the one who figured it out first.”
“It doesn’t quite work like that,” she says.
“How does it work?”
“Hell if I know.” Seri laughs and then strokes my jaw. “I love you, too.”
My heart beats faster when she says those words. I hug her against my chest and kiss the top of her head.
“Ow!” Seri pulls back a bit and touches her bandaged shoulder. “That fucking hurts.”
“Sorry.” I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re swearing a lot.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. You didn’t used to do that.”
“I guess someone has to.” She shrugs, offering no other explanation. “How’s your leg?”
“It fucking hurts.”
“I bet.” Seri grins for a moment and then frowns. “I’m sorry you got hurt. It’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell her. “I know that much.”
“How do you figure? You wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for me.”
I think about it for a moment before answering.
“I’m not an educated guy. I’m really not all that smart or anything anyway. Probably got hit on the head one too many times as a kid.”
Seri cocks an eyebrow at me and rubs the side of my head.
“I do know the difference between a victim and a perpetrator.” I pause. Saying the words makes the concept sink in a little further, and I realize how much it applies to me as well. “It’s taken me a while to figure that out. We’re both where we are because of the actions of other people. We defended ourselves the best ways we knew how, and we’re not to blame for that.”
Seri sniffs, nods, and then wipes her eyes.
“You’re still bleeding,” Seri says. “I think we need to get a better look at your leg.”
Seri helps me cut away my jeans so we can get to the chunk of wood embedded in my leg. Once my skin is exposed, I pull out the large piece, and my leg starts to bleed more. Seri applies gauze to it, and the bleeding stops. Then we spend several, painful minutes pulling out small splinters from my thigh.
“There are some I can’t get out,” Seri says. “Not without hurting you more.”
“We’re going to have to get to the clinic,” I tell her. “I think I’ll be all right, but your cut needs stitches if it’s going to heal properly.”
“Can it wait until morning?” she asks. “I’m so tired and so cold.”
I check out the wound and decide it isn’t so bad that it can’t wait. With both of us bandaged up, we build up the fire and crawl into bed to finally get warm.
“So, you’re just Seri now?” I ask as she settles against my shoulder.
“I…I’m not completely sure,” she says softly. “I am, but I’m also more than that. I feel the loss of them, but at the same time, there’s some of them still inside of me. Does that make sense?”
“Not at all,” I say, “but again—I was hit on the head a lot.”
Seri smiles just as Solo jumps up on her pillow, meows loudly while kneading the fabric a few times, and then settles himself right above her head, curled up in a ball.
“Will this be easier for you?” she asks.
