Page 62 of Lesson In Forgiveness

“Hmm. What about the bites?”

Grit shrugged. “My shirt took the brunt of the one on my shoulder. Got a nice set of teeth imprints on my forearm, but no blood.”

“Serves you right,” Tabitha slurred as her head rolled restlessly.

“Sleeping beauty wakes,” he quipped, immediately bracing himself for her emotions to kick into battle mode. “Worried me for a while, little tiger.”

A disgruntled groan rumbled in her chest. “Need to go. The monster came and played his games and now the bunny’s ashamed.” She whimpered and squirmed uncomfortably as though she could break free. “The bunny’s sick, sick, sick…”

Oh hell. Shooting Evander an alarmed look, Grit was already rising with her in his arms when the first heave wrenched her stomach. The big Dom waved him back down as he launched to his feet and snagged a small trash can from the other side of the room.

Perching on the edge of the couch, Grit lowered her legs between his, sitting her up straight on his thigh. She looked horrified as another retch lurched through her, her eyes utterly mortified and bewildered at the same time.

“It’s okay, Tabby. It’s just shock and stress.” He gathered her hair in one hand as Evander set the can in front of her. “Get it all out.”

The next heave emptied her stomach. Helpless to do anything but keep the can steady and hold her hair out of the firing range, Grit nodded at Evander when he crouched down, his hand hovering over her back in question.

She jerked when the Dom set his palm lightly on her bare skin, rubbing soothing circles as she expunged her system the only way her body knew how.

Telling her she was a good girl over and over again, there wasn’t much he could do until she slumped back, breathing heavily, physically wrecked from the exertion.

Evander snagged a bottle of water and opened it, passing it to Grit.

“Take a mouthful, little tiger. Swill your mouth out and spit it into the can.”

It was a game of all hands on deck, he thought. Evander held the can steady while Grit touched the bottle to her lips. Her hands were trapped beneath the blanket, but he felt one of them grip his shirt as she sipped, swilled, and spat a half dozen times.

“I’ll get the cloth again.” Taking the can, Evander rose and stepped away, only for Callie to hand him a fresh washcloth and hurry away with the makeshift bucket. “It seems we’re going for the team effort today.”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” White as a ghost and trembling, Tabitha pushed weakly against the blanket. “Bad girls go in the hole. Into the hole, into the dark.”

“Don’t apologize, little one. You’ve had a strenuous afternoon. Will you let me wash your face while Grit gets some water into you?”

She shook her head, pale eyes blind with distress. “Don’t be kind to the bad girl. She deserves a beating when she hurls. It’s a weakness, you see, so tie her to a tree, and whip her until she’s stronger than three.”

“What’s with the rhyming, Grit?” Elias asked.

“It’s a defense mechanism, I think. When she’s overwhelmed or feeling vulnerable, she drops into it. Here, Tabby, just take a deep breath and drink a little. Small sips.” He managed to slosh some into her mouth between her babblings, then a bit more, without drowning her.

Evander cupped the back of her head, quickly and gently removing the last traces of sickness in between mouthfuls while she sputtered at him. “All yours, Grit.”

“Thanks.” He was beginning to see the appeal of having more than one dominant male in a relationship. A successful triad meant many hands made light work of difficult challenges, although he wasn’t sure he could share his little tiger equally. “Drink some more, Tabitha.”

She appeared to be settling down, sucking on the bottle in small gulps. By the time she finished the water, her eyes were clearer, and the rhymes were under control.

Grit didn’t think a heavy dose of sugar in the form of soda or chocolate would make her stomach feel better; water would suffice until she was completely calm. He rubbed her back gently, pleased she was no longer quivering.

“Want to talk about what happened?” he asked when she finally finished the bottle.

“No.”

They needed to, and they both knew it. However, he was willing to wait a few hours until they were on their own again and she could express her feelings without an audience. “You are remarkable, little tiger. Thank you.”

Surprise jerked her head back, her brow scrunched into a perplexed frown. “What are you thanking me for?”

“Hmm, let’s see. For not slaughtering me or breaking any bones, for starters. For listening to me, trusting me, when every instinct was telling you I was a threat.” Contentedly, he kissed her forehead. “For letting me be the first man to touch you in a long fucking time, for making me proud. For trusting me—and yes, I’ve said it twice because it deserves the recognition.”

Beneath the blanket, her hands twisted together nervously, moving the fabric. “I’m sorry I threw up everywhere.”

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