Page 51 of Saving Her

He’s right. I’ve shown very little thanks for what he’s done. But that’s because his promises of freedom don’t feel real. The death of my captors seems like a dream.

Shock hasn’t allowed for anything positive to sink in. Not relief or happiness.

Definitely not the appreciation he craves.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m not ungrateful. I’m just…”

“Forget it.” He huffs out a sigh. “I’ve got a spare shirt if you want to get out of your stained clothes.” His attention treks my body, the scrutiny far more subtle than what I’m used to. There’s no desire. No threat. “Or Keira might have something you can borrow.”

“I don’t want anything from her.” Not clothes. Not placations. “I’ll make do with what I have.”

“You can’t go back to Naxos in bloodstained clothes.”

I straighten. “Go back?”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He raises a brow. “And apparently I can’t get through the gates without you.”

The appreciation he’s been searching for finally hits me, the buzz filtering through my limbs. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Torian has to—”

“Penny.” Tobias’s frantic voice calls from the bathroom. “Penny.”

My heart drops, the cookie falling from my fingers.

I run, scrambling toward the plea for help, only to have Luca beat me to the door as he pulls a gun from the back of his waistband. I make it to the bathroom a step behind him to find Toby standing at the bathroom counter, looking at the side of his shirt.

His eyes bug at the sight of us, his focus turning to the gun, his mouth dropping open as if he’s about to scream.

“What’s wrong?” I push past Luca and place a hand on his arm to encourage him to lower the weapon. “What happened?”

Tobias shrinks into me.

“It’s okay.” I crouch before him and grab his waist, clinging tight to gain his attention. “Luca thought you were in trouble. He came racing in here to help. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s blood.” He twists his shirt to show me the stain on the side of the material. “I think I’m hurt.”

My pulse spikes.

I’ve been hit so many times during the height of an adrenaline rush that I know what it’s like not to feel injuries until the intensity wears off.

If he’s hurt and I didn’t know… If he’s dying and I didn’t think to check him…

I stand, grabbing his shirt to yank it over his head, then mount a full-scale search of his body, frantically scanning him everywhere. Arms. Stomach. Back. Skull.

I can’t find any cuts or marks. There’s nothing. Only pure, delicate skin. But I keep searching, making him spin around one more time to triple check.

“I don’t think he’s injured.” Luca approaches, his gun thankfully returned to the back of his jeans. “Even if he was, I’m sure he’d survive. You’re a tough kid, aren’t you, Tobias? Brave, too.”

Toby straightens with the compliment, his tiny muscles moving under my touch. He nods, quick and sharp, the slightest sense of pride ebbing from him.

“Why don’t you get him to take a shower or a bath?” Luca asks. “It might help. I can get him a clean T-shirt to wear afterward. Obviously it will swim on him, but it’s better than walking around in stained clothes.”

More pained beats pummel my chest. I don’t like how his kindness affects me. The tiny fingers of comfort latch around my chest, threatening to squeeze me to death. It takes all my strength to ignore my doubt. For Toby’s sake.

“What do you say?” I cup his cheek. “Do you think a relaxing bath will make you feel better? You’ve been awake for a long time and the water might help you wind down so you can rest for a few hours.”

He stares at me with indecision, then shoots a nervous glance at the bulking man blocking the doorway.

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