Page 11 of Awakened By the Guardian

“But—”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Oh shit! Call an ambulance!”

“No. It’s not that kind of sick. It’s…um…diarrhea! Bye!”

She thumbed off the phone and closed her eyes. She needed coffee, but first she had to check on Gary to see if what had happened last night was the Detroit Flu. Not that she was a doctor and could diagnose him or anything, but she really ought to get him off the floor.

He looked healthy now, but what did she know? She approached him quietly and felt his forehead. No fever and no more extra body hair, though a dark shadow had grown across his jaw. That was attractive in a piratical kind of way.

Grimacing, she rubbed again at her aching forehead. So much was happening so fast, and she needed a minute to sort herself out. She started coffee, went to the bathroom, and did all the normal stuff that might get her centered. She thumbed through the news on her phone, seeing a YouTube video of a person at a grocery store who looked like he had a wolf’s head. Seriously, a wolf head. Not like Gary, who went full bear. This guy had a regular body with really hairy arms and a wolf’s head. Crazy eyes. Ugly salivation. Like a rabid man-wolf. What the hell was going on?

When she hit the replay button to see the full video again, a message appeared saying the file was corrupted. But she’d played it just a minute ago!

Weird.

Well, at least she was awake now. Which meant it was time to see what could be done for Gary. He was still a paraplegic and needed to do some things regularly, like cath to release his bladder. And lying on that hard floor couldn’t be helping anything.

She crouched down to shake him. “Gary? Gary, do you think you could move to your bed? It’s probably not comfortable there.”

He frowned, his face scrunching up adorably as he knuckled his eyes. “Mmph.”

Yeah, she hated waking up too, but he really needed to get off the floor.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” she said as she continued to shake his shoulder.

He batted her hand away and flopped onto his back. She was suddenly struck by the image of Gary as a little boy. Or even more adorable, the idea of his son refusing to get out of bed. A wave of yearning swamped her, overwhelming all her other thoughts while Gary muttered at her.

“M’feet are cold.”

She looked down. He’d managed to pull the blanket up so that his bare feet were exposed. “If you get into your bed, they will be toasty warm.”

His foot twitched then stilled. His arm was over his eyes, and his body relaxed again. She saw his breath deepen and knew he was falling back asleep. So she poked him in the thigh.

“Come on, Gary. It’s not good for you to be on the floor. Just get into bed. I’ll stop bothering you.”

He grunted and ignored her.

Fine. Time for the big threat. “Wake up now or I’m going to cath you myself, and neither of us wants that.” He had to empty his bladder. She’d learned how two years ago, just in case, but she’d never actually done it.

She stood up and crossed to the bathroom, coming out with a condom catheter.

“Come on, Gary. Don’t make me do this. Neither of us wants to see your tiny raisin dick.” In truth, she’d seen last night that he was well-endowed, but most men roused when their manhood was insulted.

Thankfully, Gary was no different. He dropped his arm and glared at her. “You are not touching my huge, handsome, and very manly penis.”

She snorted and held out the catheter. “You going to do this on the floor?”

He sighed and let his eyes drift closed again. “I smell coffee.”

“Yup. But you don’t get it until⁠—”

“I pee. Yeah, I heard that.” He cracked an eye at her. “You know you’re not my mother, right?”

She laughed. “And you should be eternally grateful.”

“I am,” he admitted. “I really am.”