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She pulled out her cell and texted him, I’m not leaving until you open your door.
Twin reactions coursed through her—irritation at his continued avoidance, and worry that maybe there was a reason he wasn’t answering.
She texted again, I’m using my key to come in.
At that, she dropped her phone in her purse and dug out her keys, which included the one he gave her last weekend. She slid the key in the lock and opened the door.
Inside, everything was quiet and dim, all the slats on the blinds pulled shut. “Noah?”
She dropped her purse on the coffee table and passed through the big open living area to the hall that led toward his bedroom, the bathroom, and the office. Something crunched underfoot.
Frowning, Kristina reached into the bathroom and flicked on the light switch. The bathroom mirror was shattered in a giant spider web of cracks that radiated out from a single, central break.
Kristina rushed toward the bedroom and pushed through the mostly closed bedroom door.
Noah was sprawled on his stomach wearing only a pair of black boxers, most of the sheets, blankets, and pillows knocked to the ground. Blood stains streaked across the top of the sheets. Kristina’s stomach fell to the floor and she was on the bed in an instant, grasping his shoulder as gently as she could in her growing panic. “Noah.” She shook him.
He came awake on a holler and flipped over, pinning her to the mattress with his forearm high across her chest. The movement was so fast and so unexpected that it’d happened before she fully realized what he was doing.
She should’ve known better than to scare him awake like that. “Noah, it’s Kristina!”
“Kris?” He flew back off of her onto his knees and kept on going, stumbling off the edge of the bed and backing into the chest of drawers beyond it. “What? What are…” He shook his head, then dropped it into his hand on a groan.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” she said, her heart racing in her chest. “You weren’t answering your door and then I saw the broken glass and the blood.” And now that she was regaining her wits about her, she noticed something else. A sickly sour smell. Sitting up, she saw a plastic trash can pulled to the side of the bed, something watery sitting in the bottom of it. “You got sick?” she asked, looking back to him again. “Jesus, Noah, what happened?”
He staggered to the edge of the bed and sank down onto it, his back toward her. He braced his elbows on his knees and stared down at the ground. “Please go,” he said.
“What? No. You need me,” she said, standing up.
“No. No, I don’t. I want you to go.”
“Well, that’s too damn bad.” She turned on the bedside lamp.
Noah groaned.
“Let me see your hand,” she said, coming around to his side of the bed.
“It’s fine.” He blocked whatever injuries he had with his good hand.
“The sheets look like it bled a lot. You could need stitches.”
“I don’t.” He spoke without looking at her.
Sighing, Kristina turned away, grabbed the trash can, and carried it into the bathroom.
“Don’t go in there,” Noah called.
Ignoring him, she tried to step around the broken glass, most of which covered the sink and vanity, and dumped the contents of the bucket into the toilet. She flushed on a grimace, then put the bucket under the bathtub faucet and filled it halfway up to rinse it out.
Standing in the bedroom doorway, she saw he hadn’t moved from where she’d left him. “When was the last time you ate?”
“I don’t want you here, Kristina,” he said, shoulders rounded and down.
“Too bad.” She pushed away the hurt his words caused, because she could only imagine how much he’d hate anyone seeing him this way. But none of that mattered right now. Not why she’d come or what she’d wanted to tell him or what might or might not be going on between them. Not when he was in such bad shape. “I’ll sweep up the bathroom floor and then make you something to eat. Then maybe you could take a shower.”
“Don’t touch a piece of that glass,” he said, heaving himself to his feet. He turned to her, and holy crap, his abdomen looked noticeably leaner since she’d seen him three days ago, and his face appeared almost gaunt. He came around the end of the bed.
Kristina stepped right in his way. “Listen to me, Marine. You’ve been puking and you’re bleeding all over the place, so I’m giving the orders and I’m telling you to sit your stubborn ass down and give me five freaking minutes to take care of you.” She jabbed her finger toward the bed.
