As we watched, my realization that I was absolutely sidekick material solidified, but I had no problem accepting it.
Most of the bad things happened to the heroes, after all.
The way Harper’s energy faded during the day worried me, but I tried not to let it show. When I asked how she was feeling while the enforcers argued about something after the movie ended, she said she was okay.
Translation: the bloodlust was a constant irritation now.
She’d spaced out a few more times during the day, too.
Only one and a half days left, though.
We could make it.
Harper brightened back up when Ryker showed up again that night for another hookup around the time I knew Maverick would be getting back. They’d planned it the night before.
She hugged me tightly before I left, and I squeezed her hard.
“Call or knock if you need anything,” I whispered.
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She released me, and I went back to our room just as Maverick came shuffling down the hallway with one of his hands braced against the wall for support.
He looked even worse than the day before.
Worry made my stomach clench for him, too.
Was everything going to go to hell at once?
Probably.
It took even more effort than the day before to get him clean. He was too out of it to talk much, but he admitted that the fights were worse today.
When he was finally snoring in bed, curled up against me in his wolf form again, I picked up my phone and called Rhone.
It went to voicemail.
I hesitated... then called again.
“Did he bite you?” Rhone growled into the phone.
“No...”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“He was so wrecked he could hardly talk after the fights today.”
Silence followed for a moment. “Where’s his deepest injury, and how bad is it?”
“There’s one on the back of his leg. It didn’t hit the femoral artery, but it was close. It must’ve been awful when it first happened.”
“Is it still bleeding?”
“No, it’s finally starting to scab.”
“Does he have anything else that large or deep?”
