“I have no idea.”
His concern seems to deepen. “Maybe we should get you to a doctor.”
I take a deep breath. “I don’t think I need a doctor.” Not yet anyway. I probably need to get back into therapy if I’m going to have hallucinations, but that can probably wait until Monday. “I really just want to go home. Can you take me home, Flint?” My voice sounds small, even to me. Not the most convincing version of “I’m fine” I’ve ever performed, but it’s been a day, okay? I can’t be expected to be at my most vibrant, excellent self constantly. That shit is exhausting.
He studies me for a long minute before his expression softens and he nods. “Of course.”
I stay where I am while he gathers my things. When he returns, I make to stand up, but he swiftly lifts me up and carries me to the sidewalk.
He puts me down to make sure the doors are locked, although he keeps one arm firmly around me. Then he scoops me back up, my bag on his shoulder, and heads down the sidewalk, towards home.
“I’m sure I can walk,” I mutter, even as I am wrapping my arms around his neck and settling my head against his shoulder.
I can feel the hum of his strained chuckle through his chest along with the steady beat of his heart.
“I’m sure you can, but this is much nicer for both of us, isn’t it?”
I can’t argue with that. He’ll probably put me down when his arms get tired, which shouldn’t take long. I keep my head against his chest and allow the steady beat of his heart to sooth and ground me as we head towards home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Swords were clashing. The sounds of war were nothing like what I had imagined. Did I expect the sound of sword on sword? Of course. I never conceived the volume of them doing so and had never, ever stopped to consider the other sounds. Not only the battle cries, but the screams of the dying, the moans of the wounded. The sound of warriors mindlessly calling for their mothers in their last moments.
Not any warriors. My warriors. My kinsmen. Oh my gods.
Mine.
They’re mine.
I come to,with a start. I realize that Flint has gently put me down on the couch and is going around the apartment, flooding the room with light. I guess he didn’t get tired of carrying my ass, after all. I’m almost sorry to have missed it. Seems a shame that a handsome man carried me all the way home, for me to just fall asleep.
His face is set in angry or concerned lines. I honestly can’t tell at this point. I don’t know if he’s upset because Brett is a crotch blossom, or if he’s mad at me for some reason. The room is still swimming in a very suspicious manner so I’m probably not the best judge at the moment.
‘It's both.’Calida continues to be very adolescent and totally unhelpful.
‘What did I do?’I send back.
‘Are you serious?’
This bitch. I feel half hammered and she’s asking asinine questions.
‘Yes, I’m serious. For fuck’s sake. Why is he pissed at me? Hello? I’m the victim here!’I snark back. My head feels like it is going to explode.
‘Why were you out there alone? Do you know howterrifying it was to have you scream for both of us and then go silent?’
Shit.
I feel like I should get points for calling for help because,hello, a year ago that would have been the type of belief that landed me on an unwanted grippy sock vacation. Besides, after my call for help, I was alittlepreoccupied.
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
Apparently Calida has had no issue picking up the lingo.
‘Rather than wait for Flint or insist Anne wait — and where the fuck was she — you decided to go out, alone and unprotected?’
Wow.
I don’t have time to give Calida’s anger the attention it deserves, however, because Flint’s comes crashing down on me.
