Page 17 of Red

“Aloka, you’re walking.” Is that surprise in his voice? Right—humans heal slowly.

He comes extra close and looks at my arms, but I wrap them in protection around me. I took the annoying white bandages off yesterday to shower. Figured with me sleeping in the dark, he couldn’t see much anyway, and the cuts would have healed by now.

Stark reaches out and brushes his hand over my forehead, clearing the hair out of the way. My breath stops as tingles form across my face. He drops his hand and steps back.

“Can I go back to sleep now?” I ask.

“You were going somewhere. Where?”

I shift my weight and slide my feet back, nearing the bed. “Nowhere.”

Stark takes a step toward me. “Tell me.” A low growl is at the bottom of his voice.

My knees almost go weak. Well, that’s another annoying response. Couldn’t Pratt have picked an ugly prison guard for me?

“Outside, okay? I wanted to get out of this damn house.”

He scoops me up like he did that day in Faira and Otis’s home.

“Have you ever heard of personal space?”

He ignores me as he ducks out of the room into the hallway. This time, being more alive, I’m able to notice the long distance to the ground below. Damn it. He goes straight through the main space, not pausing or answering me until we get out the back door and onto a huge deck. With grace, he places me down onto my feet. I shift back, the tingling sensation this time wrapping my whole body. I wonder if he feels it, too, but he gives no signs.

“I didn’t want you to have to walk so far.”

Shit. I should be hurt still.

“Oh yeah. Um, thanks.” I move to lean against the railing at the far end of the deck. It’s snowed a bit more, but in another month or two, it’ll melt away into lush green. The air fills my lungs like a well-needed hug. I still need to get away from this place. Ever since Pratt’s death, I haven’t been careful enough, leaving too many hints about what I am. Not that anyone is looking for a secret, it’s still a risk.

Stark’s heat swells off him beside me and his fingers drum on the railing.

“Just say it.” I tilt my head up at him. His dark hair is a bit longer, edging the point of being able tuck it behind his ears. I let go of the railing and halt my hand between the two of us. What am I doing?

“I wanted to ask you how you are.”

“Bored.”

“I meant your physical self. When I realized you’d left, I should’ve abandoned the food and gone after you. It was quick, I thought I’d catch you before you made it to the truck. I scanned the parking lot before we went in, but you looked so at ease in the store it threw me off. Fuck, I didn’t react like I know too, and I’m sorry you got hurt.”

So, it wasn’t planned, I don’t know why I thought it was. Being attacked did a number on my thoughts.

“I’m fine. Like I said, you don’t have to worry about me. I can handle myself. I might be stuck in this house of yours but that doesn’t make you in charge of keeping me safe.”

“Handle yourself? You might believe that, but you were on the ground being railed by two guys.”

“I don’t know if I would have wanted you to interrupt if I was being railed.” A laugh erupts from my chest, and I wince, acting like there’s pain in my ribs.

Stark’s eyes threaten to glow as his jaw ticks.

“Sorry, yes, I know it probably wasn’t a pretty sight, but I’m good now. How are you? Why are you even home?”

He rotates and leans his side against the railing, crossing those solid arms, thick veins climbing them like vines.

“What? I can ask questions too.”

“You just don’t usually unless it’s some type of snarky comment or a request to leave.”

“Well?”