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“Oh.” His cheeks tinged red as he set the tube down and reached up to undo my fly.
He pulled the pants down to my ankles and I held onto his shoulders to step out of them. Then, gingerly, and with his help, I stretched out onto my back.
Holding my breath for a moment, I rolled my shirt up to just beneath my breasts.
“You said your ribs hurt?”
“Mm.”
Gingerly, Daniel massaged some ointment along my right ribs then my left. I gritted my teeth each time his hand passed over a spot that was particularly sore.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I tried comforting him.
“Let me take a look at your hip.”
Gritting my teeth, I rolled over to my stomach with a pillow under my head.
“Tell me where it hurts.” Daniel cleared his throat.
“My right hip.”
After a pause, his large hands were on my body. I gritted my teeth as he kneaded the ointment against my skin. It felt good but hurt at the same time.
But I didn’t ask him to stop.
Instead, I bit into the pillow and held my breath.
When he let up, I was a puddle of myself and could only manage to moan while rolling to my good hip. Daniel pulled the sheets up to my shoulder.
“Get some rest.” He told me. “I’ll wake you up tomorrow.”
“You don’t—” I sighed and closed my eyes, my hip still pulsing. “Have to.”
Instead of speaking, he turned out the lamp beside the bed and I was asleep before he closed the door.
But that was the only good thing. Though I’d fallen asleep quickly, I didn’t sleep through the night.
Other than getting up to use the bathroom, I kept rolling over onto my hip, groaning and waking up. Eventually, I set up a wall of pillows so I couldn’t roll over and went back to sleep.
Still, I was awake before Daniel and Kenny the next morning. A part of me wanted to lay there, pretend I was still asleep just so he’d come in and wake me. I wanted to see if he would shake me gently, caress my cheek or call my name softly to get me up.
But that was one of the pleasures of life I had never had and didn’t think I would ever get.
I exhaled loudly through my mouth and held my breath to roll to my back, a way of testing how my body would react to movement.
He’d been right.
My hip wasn’t as sore as I thought it would be, or if he hadn’t given me that massage. My ribs didn’t hurt at all which was a good thing.
I was happy when I realized he’d left the ointment on the side table. I may not need it again, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I would rub some more ointment on the previous problem areas—just in case.
After a quick shower, I massaged more against my hip and then my side before dressing in a pair of jeans and a plain, white t-shirt. Then strung my back holster through the loop of my pants and clicked it close. I grabbed my gun from where I’d hidden it, shoved it into the holster at my lower back then slipped on the light trench.
When I exited my room and descended the stairs, the home was quiet.
It wasn’t at all like any home I thought a celebrity would live in. It was a nice place, expensive furniture, paintings on the walls—but there were also pictures of Kennedy and Daniel together. The furniture was set up in a way that said a child lived here.
