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Not that I want to be sexy. I guess my mind is just grasping at things to make me feel normal again.
When he returns I’m already out of the bath, in a new set of his shorts and T-shirt that were waiting for me on the bed. I’m in my corner nursing a plastic cup of water in my hand as I hug the pillow. It has become my new comfort. My only comfort.
“Here,” he places a plate on the ground beside me. It’s full of dry crackers, cheese, a few biscuits and lemon slices. “Cook swears by this. She said she’ll have you something a bit easier on the stomach in the morning.”
I fight the urge to thank him, it’s in my nature to have good manners but I just can’t bring myself to have them for a man who has stolen my life from me.
“Eat.”
I take a biscuit and bite into it, pretending not to notice the look he gives me as he walks away. One fleeting but there. It looked a lot like regret, or shame, perhaps a mix of the two. Or maybe I’m seeing things because I want to.
The biscuits taste bland but I manage to swallow some and keep them down. I scrunch my body up in the corner and close my eyes, thinking of places so far from here.
He’s wrong about me being awkward. I haven’t done this to harm myself. I genuinely am ill. I just have too much pride to ask for help.
“All finished?” Captain asks, crouching beside me again.
I nod against my pillow and the second I do, he hooks his arms under my body and stands, using his legs to push us up.
“Hey,” I whine, readying to fight but he plants me on his bed seconds later. I should protest but my body sinks into the mattress and I just can’t bring myself to flee this little piece of heaven in this hell.
“You should have come to me days ago,” an older-sounding woman shouts, sounding frustrated and irritated. “I could have fixed her easily days ago.”
“I didn’t know she was sick days ago,” Captain replies, his tone clipped. “Will she die?”
“No, she’s severely dehydrated.”
I open my eyes and see a flash of white hair before a hand comes to my forehead.
“See? Better already.”
Captain blows out a breath. “Keep her alive, Nonna.”
“Don’t you boss me around, boy, I’m not one of your captives. Poor girl.”
“Nonna.”
She moves her fingers to my neck and smiles a wrinkled smile at me, though her teeth are crooked and jagged from poor dental hygiene. “See? She lives.”
“Hi,” I murmur, trying to piece together where I am. “Am I sick? Did somebody call my mum?”
The old lady smacks the big guy in the chest, making him grunt.
He glares at her but then looks at me and winces before turning away. I close my eyes again, dreaming disoriented dreams of a handsome pirate sailing a pretty boat.
Groaning, I climb out of bed and stumble into the bathroom to use the toilet. To vomit or pee I’m not sure. My head is spinning but I don’t feel as weak or disoriented as I did.
When I return after brushing my teeth, I find an empty room, an empty bed and a tray of fruit and yoghurt on the side. I climb back under the covers and pluck a grape from the small punnet before popping it into my mouth. Where did they get fresh fruit from?
Were they frozen?
My hunger gnaws at my gut so I sit up and slide the tray onto my lap, digging in like a feral animal until every last bit is gone.
Then, with a sigh, I put it back, sink under the covers and close my eyes. More rest is needed.
I’ve never felt so lethargic.
A hand touches my head, checking my temperature and for a moment I think it’s Niall as I forget where I am. I grip it and hold it to my cheek.
It starts to pull away.
“One more minute,” I beg softly as I often do before he leaves for work in the morning.
He climbs in behind me, fully clothed. His denim jeans dig into the back of my thighs. Niall doesn’t usually wear denim and he would never wear jeans to bed.
Still… I won’t nag him, it’s been so long since I’ve gotten to hold him.
I turn in his arms, burying my face in his chest that seems to have a bit more padding than usual. My hand grips the front of his shirt, keeping him close and his other arm comes around me. I feel warm, safe, and protected in such a large body and a large hold.
“Thank you,” I whisper though I’m not sure to whom I’m thanking anymore. Lines of reality are blurring.
When I wake up again, I’m alone and feeling even more dejected than before. I swear Niall was right beside me. I felt him, I know I did, he was warm and comforting, a human blanket keeping my back safe from the cold and kidnappers.
