Page 11 of Bonded Through Bite

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll help.”

“Lovely.”

I mean it to come out sarcastic, but the result is half a moan and Rafael has us under the water in seconds. My legs won’t hold me up anymore and I sag like a rag doll while his arms hold me up around the waist.

Efficiently, he washes my hair and most of my body and rinses us down. We are done in record time. He doesn’t ask when he grabs a towel and quickly pats me down, grabs the pills and my purse, and carries me back to the bedroom.

“Plastic bag,” I force my brain to work enough to form the words. There is no guarantee I’ll make it to the bathroom on time again.

“Let’s get you settled in and I’ll go get one.”

Good enough. I don’t think I’ll throw up in the next few minutes. I’ve been wrong before, but there is hope. Rafael sets me on the other side of the bed and my purse on the nightstand, then he disappears. I blink and he’s back with a trash can lined with a bag.

I do love a man who listens.

“Do you need something else?”

“Sleep.” I yawn and wince when the movement releases a new bout of pain. I don’t know what time it is, but if I’m able to doze off, it would be best. I’m so, so tired, everything aches. I miss the days when I only had this battered feeling and murky brain after serial migraines. I knew it would pass eventually.

This will too, permanently.

Fuck.

“Do you have migraines like this often?” Rafael has moved to the bed behind me and his voice is soft and low enough that if I were asleep, I would not have heard him.

“Sometimes.” Try every other day. Or lately, every day.

“Is there something that sets it off?”

“Extraneous exercise,” I try to joke, but it falls flat.

“Samantha.” He sighs. Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m not funny. “Anything that makes it easier?”

“Dark, cool room with no draft, sounds, or smells. Got one of those?” I’m half asleep and talking is easier when I don’t try to think.

“Actually… I do.”

“Well, good for you.” I snuggle deeper into the pillow, hoping I can ignore the sweat pooling at my spine. Hot and cold flashes are just one of the lovely aftereffects of getting one’s brain fried.

“I can carry you there.”

“What?”

“To the other room.”

“Yeah, sure,” I mumble, not really comprehending anything anymore. I just wish the meds keep working.

Chapter Four

Samantha

It’s quiet. The only sound is my own breathing. I blink several times and slowly lift my hand in front of my face, but it’s pitch black. The air is fresh and cool, and I breathe in deeply. Is it still night? The pain is gone and carefully, I stretch. My stomach grumbles.

“Thirsty? Hungry?” Rafael asks.

I don’t jump or shriek, but I do wish my head would keep up. I’m still at his place and he did mention something about having a dark room.

“Maybe,” I reply after a moment, unsure of how my stomach will actually handle anything.