Page 127 of Caged

I nodded. The effort needed to keep my hand from clutching his made it hard to concentrate.

“Why didn’t you come back?” I failed to keep the hurt out of my voice. What I really wanted to know was why the man who’d checked out of the hospital AMA didn’t force his way back to my side.

He rubbed small circles on the back of my hand. “I did, the next morning. But like I said, my father kept me out.”

“Why?”

“He said you needed time with yours.” He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up in a rat’s nest of soft brown curls. “It just about killed me to walk away, but he was right.”

“Did you really discharge yourself against your doctor’s advice?”

He nodded. “They wouldn’t let me stay with you as a patient, and I didn’t want you to be alone when you woke up.”

His words weakened the wall around my heart. I turned my hand over, but didn’t lace our fingers. It was enough to bring a smile to his face. I longed to run my finger along his strong bruised jaw and tell him how disappointed I felt waking up without him there.

“I went straight to your room after getting discharged.”

That had to mean something, right? “Thank you.”How much of what I remember is real?I wanted to ask, but now didn’t feel like the time. We had more important things to discuss.

“How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?”

That’s it? He’s ending the conversation?I pulled my hand away. “Is that all you came to say?” My disappointment filled the room.

“No, it’s not, but you’re wincing and I’d rather you weren’t in pain while we talk.”

“Oh.” Why was I acting so crazy?

Because I’m afraid. Afraid he’ll tell me he loves me. Afraid he won’t.

And I’m afraid that no matter what he says, it will hurt my career.

“Where are your meds?” he asked, standing up.

“On the counter.”

He made quick work of filling a glass with water and returning to the table. He read the instructions before giving me the pills. “There’s no need to suffer.”

I took one. Before he could argue, I explained I’d taken one an hour ago.

“What about you? How bad is it?” I asked, trying to make up for being so bitchy.

“Well, I didn’t get shot, so I have that going for me.” He laughed. “A few cracked ribs are the worst of it. The cuts and bruises are already healing.”

“Lucky you.”

“If I could go back and change it, I’d take that bullet for you.” My eyes shot up to his. “And I always will.”

“Don’t you dare.” I didn’t want or need him sacrificing himself to save me.

He stared at me for what felt like an eternity before asking, “Would you do the same for me?”

I answered without thinking, “Yes.”What kind of stupid question was that?

“So you can take a bullet for me, but I can’t take one for you? That hardly seems fair.” His teasing grin diffused the tension.

“How about neither of us gets shot?” I bargained.

“I’m on board with that. Getting shot sucks.”

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