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“I know,” Liam replied. “I’m just checking to see how it looks.”
“Okay.”
I heard him mutter something that did not sound complimentary. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Sloppy work,” he groused. “Jesus. Did they do it with their eyes closed?”
I grunted. “Guy was an asshole. Asked if I had HIV because I’m gay.”
It sounded like he growled. “Dickhead. Maybe I can fix it a little,” he said.
“S’okay,” I slurred. “I’m a mess anyway.”
I felt his lips press against my cheek. “You’re not a mess. You’re fine just the way you are.”
I didn’t know why, but his words made me want to cry. He put on a new bandage and then went to the other side of the bed to put a pillow under the lower part of my left leg. A cold weight settled around my swollen ankle. I shivered. “Cold.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He draped the comforter from the bottom of the bed over me, leaving just my ankle sticking out. “I’ll leave that on for twenty minutes, then take it off and let you sleep. I’ll come check on you every couple of hours to make sure you’re okay.”
“You’re staying here tonight?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah. That’s good. Really good.” My eyes drifted shut.
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I remembered waking to the feel of Liam’s hand on my forehead and of him fixing the blankets so I wasn’t cold. At one point, my dreams turned into nightmares of Terry getting hurt on our last mission, of him screaming in pain and lying cold in a pool of his own blood.
I tried to get up, but Liam was there again, soothing me with a hand on my chest. He lifted my hand and put it on his own chest so I could follow his breathing. I felt his fingers running through my short hair, easing the pain in my head. I even thought I heard him singing softly, some song I remembered hearing when I was a child.
When I’d finally calmed down, he moved to get off the bed. I grabbed his hand and said, “Stay.”
I couldn’t see his face in the dark room, but I felt his hesitance. “Are you sure?”
“Please,” was all I could say.
“Okay,” he whispered. He got under the covers on my right side and moved close to me. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah. It’s good.”
When I woke again, Liam was gone. I thought for a second that I was alone in the house, but then I heard music from downstairs and the smell of bacon drifted up through the heating vents. I took stock of my body. My head still hurt, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the night before. My ankle throbbed, and I could tell it was still swollen. I winced when I went to move my right arm, reminded of the bullet graze there.
I smiled when I recalled how upset Liam had been because the medic had done a bad job sewing me up. It didn’t bother me much. I had enough scars on my body that one more wouldn’t matter.
Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor of my hallway before Liam came into my bedroom. He wore a red T-shirt and black sleep pants with red-nosed reindeer all over them. I chuckled. “Nice pajamas.”
“They’re festive,” he said with a grin. He came over to the bed and got me to sit up, putting two pillows behind my back. After he adjusted the pillow under my ankle, he went to the nightstand and picked up a small penlight. “I’m just going to test your pupils to see how reactive they are, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” I replied.
He first had me track the movement of the penlight in front of my face, and then he flashed the light in my eyes. “Jesus, now I’m blind.”
He patted my cheek. “Poor baby. I’ll get you a guide dog.”
“Ha-ha,” I groused. “I have to piss,” I said, turning to get off the bed.
Liam put a hand on my shoulder. “Hold on, let me help.”
I felt a flash of irritation. “You gonna hold my dick for me?”
