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“Stab wound!” I leap off of the mattress in astonishment. “What the hell? Who stabbed you Adam? Why would someone do that?”
Adam’s gaze drops to the bed, either unable or unwilling to meet mine. I turn to Dax again, hoping he’ll give me some answers, but when my eyes find the doorframe, Dax is gone.
Turning back to Adam, I sit down and hesitantly lift my trembling hand to his uninjured cheek. My fingers skim along the rough stubble, fluttering gently down to his swollen lips.
“Adam,” I breathe, “who did this?”
He closes his eyes and almost imperceptibly leans into my touch, like a kitten would when you reach down to scratch its ear. “I don’t want to drag you into it, Ellie.”
“Then why am I here?” I ask, still gliding my hand over any bit of undamaged flesh that I can find, skimming over small freckles, a day’s worth of beard, the thrumming pulse at his neck.
Adam’s eyes open and I’m captivated by the intense combination of brown, slate gray, and green that seems to penetrate right through me. “Because I missed you,” he whispers, lifting his hand to drag his fingers across my lips.
I watch as Adam leans in, angling his head toward mine. He winces and I realize that he can’t bend any further because of the pain. Even though I’m worried about him, I can’t help but smile at his efforts. I shift forward to press my lips to his, giving him what he wants. What I want.
He moves his mouth slowly, the pressure so faint that I can hardly feel it. My body and my racing heart are urging me to deepen the kiss, but I don’t, terrified of hurting him. A warm, tingling sensation spreads from my scalp down to my toes and I decide that I never want this glorious feeling to end.
Exhausted from the small effort, Adam breaks the kiss first, slumping back against the wall in the same half-sitting position he was in when I got here. My entire body is tense and crackling with a strange combination of fear and desire. Struggling to control it, I let myself study Adam as he rests.
His eyes are closed again, one lid is swollen and almost black. Down the same side of his face is a large purple stain with a shallow scrape in the middle of it. Adam’s beautiful lips are slightly parted and still damp from our kiss, his lower one cracked and puffy in the center.
My gaze drops down to his torso, which is lean and sculpted like the body of a swimmer or a runner. Cautiously, I touch the corner of his tattered bandage, tugging gradually to try and see the damage.
“Bloody fucking hell,” Adam groans as he weakly tries to bat my hand away. Failing miserably, he lets his arm drop to the mattress from the exertion.
“Adam, this isn’t clean. I need to look at it.” Reassuringly, I put my hand over his and rub my thumb in small circles.
Drained, he doesn’t open his eyes but nods his consent. His head thumps back against the wall, he’s trusting me while he’s at his most vulnerable. I grasp a corner of the bandage again and peel it back as gently as I can manage. The tape is already curling at the edges so it comes off easily. The center of the gauze, however, is stuck to the angry wound.
“Just yank it,” Adam grunts, gritting his teeth together. I look up at his face to be sure that he’s serious. His eyes are squeezed shut and his jaw muscles are pulsing from stress. Bracing one hand on the mattress, I squeeze my own eyes shut and jerk on the gauze, hard.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuckkkk!” Adam screams in agony and hunches over the edge of the mattress, dry heaving from the pain. “Ughhhhh,” he moans, pressing his sweaty face into his pillow when the sensation finally passes.
“I’m sorry!” I cry. “Adam, please, stay on your back, you’re still bleeding.” I help him roll off his side and inspect the stab wound as he gasps in distress. “Jesus, Adam.” The puncture is long, almost four inches, but thankfully not very deep and only seeping a small amount of blood. It’s more of a slice than a stab and it didn’t go through all the layers of skin. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until I exhale in relief. Thank god I spent the last year volunteering at the local clinic in Shepherd’s Bush or else I’d have passed out by now.
Toughen up Ellie. You can do this, you’re going to be a nurse someday.
“Where’s the gauze?” I ask lightly, trying to keep my voice calm and reassuring even though inside I feel like screaming.
Adam can’t respond to my question, his entire body is now being wracked with small tremors and his teeth are chattering loudly. I place my hand on his forehead, no fever, which is surprising.
“Dax!” I call out, suddenly overwhelmed and truly afraid for Adam.
“Yeah,” he appears in the doorway only a moment later.
“I need help. I don’t know why he’s shivering
.” I feel helpless, the tears I had held back for Adam’s sake are now coursing freely down my cheeks.
Dax steps into the room and crouches next to the bed. “He was doing that yesterday when I cleaned the wound. It’s a reaction to the pain or the blood loss, I think.”
“Okay,” I respond uncertainly, trusting that Dax knows what he’s talking about. It takes all of my strength, but I’m able to calm myself down some now that I know Adam’s not having a seizure or some sort of fever-induced convulsions. I swallow and steel myself against the nerves that are bubbling up in my gut. “Well, where are the bandages? I need to cover this back up.”
Dax hands me a plastic sack from the other side of the tiny space. “There’s antiseptic ointment in there too,” he says before he gets up and thankfully leaves me alone to play nursemaid.
I patch Adam up the best I know how, which isn’t much. He remains either asleep or unconscious throughout, I’m not sure which, while I tend to him. I allow myself the pleasure of pressing a small kiss to Adam’s damp forehead before I stand up and join Dax in the main room of the flat.
Free from having to pretend to be unaffected under Adam’s gaze, my entire body trembles and I crumple to the floor. It looks cleaner down here than on that dreadful couch, and that doesn’t say much. As I sit, I put my head in my hands and cry. Dax sits next to me and waits patiently for my breakdown to end.
