Page 51 of Defending Van

“No buts, sweetheart,” he said, and the gentleness in his voice made tears sting her eyes. “Now I'm going to sit down and hold you on my lap, while Doc cleans your feet. Then you're going to drink some water, eat a protein bar, and then we’ll figure out what our next move is.”

“Okay,” she whispered. Then louder, “Okay.” She could do that, focus on one thing at a time. Hold it together a little longer. When she was safe, maybe she could ask Van to hold her while she cried. It would probably make him uncomfortable, and she probably shouldn’t put that kind of pressure on him after he’d come all this way to find her, but it would make her feel better to know she was safe while she let go.

“You’ve got this, Makayla. I'm pretty sure you can survive anything,” Van told her as he carried her away from the tree she’d been holding onto when she’d come across Trigger. He stopped in a slightly more densely treed area. It would offer them better protection from being spotted, and she assumed that the man who had bought her still had people looking for her, too, so they had to be careful.

“Second that,” Lucky said, shooting her a warm smile.

“Third,” Brain added, making her chuckle.

“Fourth it,” Oz said, his grin wide, and she laughed again.

“Okay, I get it, thank you. I am okay, I promise, it’s just … I was already struggling with the whole killing someone thing, and then to know I stabbed someone who was trying to help me, it’s a lot. I'm not cut out for this. I couldn’t even slit Van’s throat when I thought he was one of them.”

“Slit Van’s throat? Oh, I want to hear more about that,” Grover said as Van sat down, keeping her in his arms.

“Maybe later,” Van said dismissively as he arranged her on his lap so she was sitting across it, her shoulder leaning against his hard chest, his breath warm across her temple, the feel of it soothing in a way nothing else could calm her right now.

“Definitely now,” Lucky said, making Van glower at him.

“How about we take care of our patient as our first priority,” he snapped.

“I don’t mind telling them the story while Doc cleans my feet,” she offered. Actually, she’d love anything she could use as a distraction because this was going to suck big time. She didn't have to look at her feet to know they were a torn, bloody mess.

“Drink some water,” Van grumbled when Oz held out a canteen to her.

That was an order she was happy to follow. Her mouth may as well be lined with dirt for how dry it felt. She took a big swallow, and then another, but Van stopped her before she could take a third.

“Go slow,” he cautioned. “You're dehydrated. Go too fast and you’ll vomit it all back up, make yourself worse off.”

Turned out to be good advice for more than that reason. Doc knelt by her feet, grasped one of her ankles, shifted her foot so it was balanced on his knee, and then poured some water over it. The resulting pain was more than enough to have her stomach revolt to the point she almost leaned over and threw up the couple of mouthfuls she’d just drunk.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Van soothed, urging her head to his chest, then stroking his hand the length of her spine. “It’ll be over soon.”

Soon wasn't soon enough.

After pouring water over her feet, Doc took out a pair of tweezers and began to remove the pieces of debris that were embedded in her flesh. She was no stranger to pain, but for some reason, it hit differently when the person causing it was trying to help her instead of hurt her.

While she focused on breathing through the pain, she could vaguely hear Van telling the story of how close she’d come to slitting his throat. She didn't pay too much attention to his words, just let the rumble of his voice in the chest she was snuggled against calm her racing heart. It couldn’t go on forever. This pain had an expiration date. That’s all she had to keep reminding herself.

Still, by the time Doc set down the tweezers and grabbed some antibiotic ointment to smear all over the soles of her feet, she was trembling, her body hovering on the edge of an exhaustion-fueled crash. Van had stopped talking, but his hand continued to stroke her back, and the others were all circled around them, cocooning her in a little bubble of safety.

Ointment applied, bandages went on next, completely covering her feet, almost too tightly as the soft white material pressed against the dozens of tiny wounds. Walking would be impossible for a while, but that didn't seem to matter now that Van was here, he’d take care of her. She was safe with him.

“Time to drink some more water,” Van urged, this softer side to him something she was enjoying seeing him explore, and she gave him a shaky smile as she tipped her head back and allowed him to hold the canteen to her lips.

“Protein bar too. Sorry they don’t taste that great,” Oz told her as he held out the small bar with the wrapper already peeled back.

“That’s all right. I’m not sure I could taste much of anything right now anyway,” she said as she took the food and began to nibble at it. Oz was right, it tasted bland, and the texture wasn't great either, but her body needed fuel, and they weren't out of the woods yet, so to speak. “What happens now?” she asked no one in particular. Were they just going to head to the airport and go home, or did they still have to take care of the problem of the man who had bought her?

“Now you rest,” Van told her.

“I'm … tired but not sleepy,” she said honestly. “My mind is all filled with thoughts and emotions and fears, and I'm not sure I can untangle them enough to sleep right now. I need …” but she trailed off without finishing the sentence because she wasn't really sure what she needed.

“I know what you need, sweetheart,” Van said, and the guys disappeared from around them, vanishing into the trees, although she was sure they hadn't gone far and were close enough to watch over them while also giving them some privacy.

And all of a sudden, Makayla knew exactly what she needed.

Van.