Page 149 of Captivated

A slight frown furrowed Zeeb’s brow, as though the weight of the pain was still there, even when he was unconscious. There was no real comfort in his stillness. Zeeb’s body was stiff, but as Nate stared at him, a slight tremor ran through him.

“Oh God.” Sol’s strangled voice broke through Nate’s observation.

The doctor said he’d have extensive bruising.Hearing it and seeing it were two different things. His once vibrant, expressive face looked as if it had been broken. The bruises on his jaw and neck were darker than anything Nate had ever seen, almost black, and the smallest shift of his head seemed to hurt him, as though the slightest motion pulled at everything that had been knocked out of place.

Hold it together, Nate told himself.

He walked over to the bed to stand beside it, the steady beeping of the heart monitor the only sound filling the space between them. He leaned over, gently brushing a few strands of hair from Zeeb’s forehead. It was a tiny gesture, but it felt like the most important thing in the world right then.

“Are you a relative?” Nurse Paton asked, her voice soft.

“No.” Nate gazed at Zeeb. “I’m a friend. A very good friend.”

He let his hand linger on Zeeb’s skin, a hesitant contact. The bruise under his left eye seemed to darken as the minutes spun out. The kind of bruise that could take weeks to heal.

Weeks of pain.

Nate could already imagine the future struggle, the way every movement would be a reminder of what happened.

Of how close Nate had come to losing him.

“Zeeb,” he whispered, his voice rough. “Wake up, okay? Just… just open your eyes.”

There was no response at first, nothing but the faint rise and fall of Zeeb’s chest beneath the white hospital blanket.

He looks so fragile. So small.A far cry from the Zeeb who usually strode with so much purpose, wearing that lopsided grin.

The Zeeb who’d filled Nate’s cabin with his laughter.

Then Zeeb’s fingers twitched, a movement so subtle Nate thought he’d imagined it. But there it was again, a little more, a slight squeeze.

The contact was enough to send a wave of relief rushing over Nate.

“Yeah… yeah, that’s it,” he murmured, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. He moved closer, his hand resting carefully on Zeeb’s, trying to be gentle despite the overwhelming urge to pull him into his arms and never let go. “I’m here, Zeeb. I’m not going anywhere.”

Zeeb’s head shifted ever so slightly, a grimace contorting his face. It was clear even this little movement hurt. The concussion, the swelling, the bruising… All of it was going to take time to heal. Time Zeeb needed to get back to being the Zeeb Nate knew.

Assuming such a thing was possible.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated. The words didn’t cover a fraction of what he wanted to say, but right then, they were all he could manage. Zeeb’s fingers twitched again, as though he’d heard him.

Nate swallowed.

The words were enough for now.

Chapter Forty

That’s not Toby.

Robert stood with his back to the wall, watching as a nurse adjusted the oxygen mask over Toby’s face while another one started a second IV line. He lay half-naked beneath the fluorescent lights, his chest rising and falling in a broken rhythm.

He looked sowrong.

Every time Toby sucked in air, a portion of his ribcage actually sank inward, as though something had caved in. On the exhale, that same spot bulged out, almost as if it didn’t know which direction to go anymore. His skin was pale, waxy, glistening with sweat, his lips tinged blue. His right arm was encased in plaster. There were bruises blooming across the left side of his chest and shoulder, angry and deep, as though something had crushed him. The bruises matched the cold steel of the trauma team: focused, sharp, fast. Someone was calling out vitals in clipped tones.

Heart rate elevated.

Blood pressure dropping.

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