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“Zara?” He hesitates at the door.
“Callan, please go.”
Steady footsteps become faint, and I know he has gone. I sigh with relief and wait for Jefferson to enter, and when he does, I ask that he remove my catheter so I can get up and use the toilet.
“Do you need help walking?” He holds my arm, steadying me.
I get my balance and give myself a few moments to adjust. I don't feel dizzy, so I shake my head and hobble to the small door.
“Oh, that’s a wardrobe,” he says, stalling me and biting back a smirk. I swallow a laugh, and he chuckles. “The bathroom is through the main room, this way.” Who is out there? I don't have time to ask, as he holds me and encourages me along. “Slow and steady wins the race,” he tells me kindly.
“I’m not entering any races any time soon,” I scoff. My aim is not to look up and see who is here, but I can’t help it. I see Stalin and Tony sitting in armchairs watching TV quietly. On the sofa, Callan and Isabella sit. Multiple faces turn in my direction, and Callan stands quickly.
“What’s going on?” he demands, looking at Jefferson. He must know he will get nothing from me, not even a look. I keep my focus ahead.
“Loo break,” Jefferson reveals.
Callan walks across the room towards us and nods his friend away. When I slant a combative look his way, he grits his jaw and lowers his head to mine.
“Just try me,” he growls. I drop my gaze. I have neither the energy nor strength to deal with his level of aggression.
He scoops me up and stalks to the bathroom. Ducking my head, I flush with unease. How is Isabella okay with this? Does she know I slept with Callan? I’m ashamed that whilst she was being traumatised, I was hooking up with her partner. Does she hate me? I would. Callan lowers me in front of the toilet and helps me sit down.
“I’ve got it from here.” I grunt in agony. Just him carrying me has caused my ribs to spasm with pain.
“I don’t doubt it. Still not going.” Crossing his big arms, he leans against the side and waits for me. After a few minutes, he speaks. “Stage fright?” he wonders. I indulge him and look up, seeing he is fighting a smirk that I can’t reciprocate.
“It’s uncomfortable,” I say through gritted teeth. Jeez, moments ago, I had a tube up there.
“Take your time,” he says, clearing his throat.
“I was,” I bite. Idiot. What is he doing? “Look, I can’t go with you in here,” I say when minutes pass by. I must look a state, sitting on the toilet, robe wrapped awkwardly around me, hair a mess.
“Why don't you get a shower? If it relaxes you, just do it in there,” he says, moving to turn the shower on.
Wrinkling my nose, I laugh.“I am not peeing in the shower!”
“Fine, piss on the floor then.” God, he is so vulgar. “Get a shower. You will feel better.” The water turns on, and the sound alone has me aching to get under the spray. Why is he so argumentative all the time? I throw him a dark look, and he chuckles. “Glad to see you’re still in there somewhere.” Rolling my eyes, I use the side to stand, grunting as pain lances my side.
I edge towards the shower and hold the open door for support. Callan leans his big frame against the other side.
“Get out then.” I look directly at him, but he laughs.
“Zara, quit fucking around, and get in.”
“Callan, get out.” I try to stay calm, but I sound frustrated.
“Get in.”
“Get out!” I scream. He jumps and looks shocked. I’m shaking. “Just fucking get out,” I cry.
The door opens, and I twist to find Isabella staring wide-eyed at us.
“I’ll help her.” Her soft voice is angelic, pretty, and I close my eyes. She is so innocent-sounding, and with her big almond eyes, I can see why Callan is drawn to her.
I’ll do anything to get rid of him, even be alone with her.
“I’ll be outside.” He presses a kiss to her hair, and my heart revolts at the sight. She stiffens, and I berate myself for being so selfish with my emotions when she has endured hell. She nods, and he slips out, leaving us both alone. Silence falls.
