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I have no words left as Knox looks slowly up at me.
"Porter! We found him in the nick of time." Knox hurries over to me, his arms wrap around my torso to protect me from everything but the truth. "You get the credit for this."
"I thought he'd be OK," I confess. "Like sitting up talking."
"I'm sorry, treasure. We only just got to him in time. Tomorrow would have been too late."
"I want to see him." I swallow down my feelings; this isn’t about me. I need to be brave and focus on the boy fighting for his life.
Knox leads me over, pressing close as he whispers in my ear. "I'm going to fuck you so hard tonight."
Well, that is something to look forward to after all this.
Nico looks so small and frail on the bed, even though I'm sure he's my height. The doctor wraps him in a thermal blanket, with one arm uncovered so a drip can run into the back of his hand, and the other splinted. His arms are bandaged in three places. His face is pale, with dark rings under his eyes like he hasn't slept in days. A nasty purple bruise hugs around his jawline.
"What did they do to him?" I don't want to know, but if I don’t ask, my mind will feed me horrors all night.
"He was tied up in the bathroom and beaten."
“OK.” That doesn't sound too bad. Obviously it isn’t good and he's clearly hypothermic, but better than being raped or cut up. It sounds less traumatising.
"Mr Thayer," the doctor calls keenly.
Knox hurries to his side without leaving mine, dragging both of us closer to where Nico lies sleeping.
"His heart rate is elevating. He's waking up."
The doctor starts carrying out checks, examining Nico's pupils and pain responses.
"Is that a good thing?" I beg. "That's a good thing, right?"
The sight of Nico flinching has my heart lifting in my chest. His eyelids flicker and I dare myself to think he could be regaining consciousness.
"Get the translator," Knox orders, grabbing hold of Nico's hand.
I'm reassured by the jerk in Nico's arm, pulling his hand free. On the other side Caeo continues to rub up and down the boy’s arm. A subtle look of hope on his tired face. He has spent as much time, if not more, than Knox searching for Nico. It seems that mister tough guy might have a weakness.
I'm glad Nico is waking up; it also comes with a pang of jealousy. Knox has known Nico longer; we are close in age. Nico is cute, tiny, and knows the business better than I ever could. Could it be that I am a make-do for someone too young for him to have? Or is this some guilt left for a boy caught up in a grown man's war.
No, it's not. It's me pushing feelings that aren't there, not in Knox, anyway. They are my emotions being intensified by all the drama over the last few days. My need to pay my good luck forward. I'm not sure what they are or where they came from, but this boy needs pampering and protection, not some fatal attraction shit. I'm not the one to decide that though, it's not my place. We're practically the same age and I couldn't look after a stray cat. But Knox can. That is why his grip is so important.
"You will look after him, won't we?"
"Yes we'll do it myself," Knox replies with a chuckle. It starts with him and continues all around the room.
"OK, whatever," I admit my mistake, rather thankful for Nico moving as a distraction. It's a flick of his arm and a drawn out sigh.
"Nico, can you hear me?" Knox calls to the boy. "Where is the translator?"
"She's on her way," Caeo insists.
"Let me check him." Michael pushes me aside and I thump into Knox.
"It's fine.” I rub my hand across Knox's chest as it puffs out protectively. “Really, I’m fine."
"Well, he’s waking up. You can take him home now."
"Take him home?" My ears deceive me. "He isn't even conscious."
