Page 118 of Limbo

His mouth quirks up on one side in response.

When he reaches toward my neck, I fight the urge to shy away, anxious about him touching it. He kneads his fingers over the tender skin, not lingering anywhere and only using the tips. “We want to keep an eye on this swelling for at least the next twenty-four hours. You’ll also want to avoid talking for a while.” He smiles when my eyes flash to his. “Fine, you can whisper as long as it doesn’t hurt too much.”

I slowly nod, finding that more agreeable.

“Well, that’s all I have for you right now. I’ll be in and out to check on you throughout the morning, and Sandy is just a button push away.”

From next to my IV, she gives a small smile that comes across less warm than she intends.

Dr. Gregory spins around in the doorway. “Visiting hours don’t start for an hour. Anyone wanna take bets on who sneaks back here first?”

Sandy snorts, and he chuckles, backing into the hall. She moves to the side of the bed and adjusts the pillow propping up my left arm and then the ones behind me.

“He said something about scratches on my neck?” I ask.

Her mouth forms a thin line, and she nods. “Mmhmm.”

“Can I see them?”

She forces another smile. “Later, dear.”

I sigh and drop my head back on the pillow. She continues to mill about, bordering on irritating. I’m about to ask her to leave when she mutters, “Of course it’s him.”

She shakes her head as Jordan walks in. No love lost between them, he pushes past her to sit down in the chair next to me, and she orders him to make sure I keep taking sips from the cup on the bedside table. I scarcely notice her leave, already wrapped up in him.

“Hey,” I say, staring at him.

He looks exhausted, his eyes heavy. But, as always, he pulls it off.

“Hey, beautiful.”

It feels like forever since I heard that rather than twelve hours.

“Cate and Connor?”

He groans and lowers his head onto my shoulder. “I knew we forgot something.”

I smile when he looks up. “So frustrating.”

“You love it,” he whispers, giving one back.

When I swallow, I close my eyes and try not to wince. Otherwise, I’ll have the doctorandhim on me about not talking.

“Want me to leave so you can sleep?”

“No,” I say fast.

“Good. My presence is nonnegotiable.” He relaxes in the chair, almost farther away than I want him.

Still thinking about the marks, I touch my neck. The tips of my fingers move across ridges in the skin that span from one side to the other. I remember his hands and the pressure. The panic of not being able to breathe. The scrape of my nails while I tried to stop him, digging my way under his fingers to find relief, to get air.

Jordan pulls my hands away, concern washing over him. I’m breathing too fast, and I focus on slowing it while he kisses each of my fingers.

“It was getting worse, but I never thought…” I shake my head, not sure how to even describe what happened. “He snapped.”

“He’ll never fucking touch you again,” Jordan says. He kisses my inner wrist. “Don’t even think about him.”

A soft knock turns my attention to the door, which is creeping open. Trey stops when I look at him. He’s still in his uniform, stitches in a cut over his eye.

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