“Dylan?” I hurried to him, hoping I looked convincing. “Jesus, are you okay?” I made my hands tremble as I pulled the gag from his mouth. “I was so worried.”
His eyes were wide, and he looked like he was in shock. “You’re bleeding.”
I touched my lip, looking at the glistening blood on my fingertips. “The bastard punched me.” I was relieved he didn’t seem suspicious of me; he simply looked bewildered. “I saw the other guy trying to kidnap you. I… I tried to stop him, but he knocked me out and took me too.”
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t blame yourself. I couldn’t just stand by and not try to help you.”
“I can’t believe you’re here.” His face was flushed, his eyes glittering. “I’m… I’m not hallucinating, am I?”
I shook my head. “No. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“I’m fine. I mean…” He wrinkled his brow and glanced at his tied wrists and ankles.
“Shit. Let’s get you out of those.” I fiddled with the little plastic locking mechanism of the tie wraps, feeling a nudge of guilt when I noticed they had cut into his pale skin. Once I had his wrists free, I went to work on his ankles.
He rubbed the tender flesh of his wrists, wincing when he touched the bruises and cuts. “Fuck, feels so good to move.” He groaned and bit his bottom lip. “I can barely feel my arms.”
Guilt again hit me, and I started rubbing his biceps and forearms. A weird feeling came over me as I smoothed my hands over his skin; it was a mixture of protectiveness and something else I couldn’t put my finger on. “How’s that? Better?”
He shivered and avoided my gaze. “Uh… yeah.” He clenched his jaw. “That’s good. You can stop.”
I wasn’t sure if he didn’t like me touching him or if he really was fine. “You sure?”
“Yes.” He swallowed, his face flushed.
Once he was free, I helped him stand and climb from the tub. His legs were obviously weak after days of not using them for anything other than bathroom breaks. He leaned on me, and that strange protective feeling came over me again as his slender, warm body pressed against me. I had the oddest urge to put my arms around him and comfort him. It freaked me out a little, and I had to stop myself from pushing him away.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing his face against my chest. “I’m so fucking weak.”
“It’s okay.” I hooked one arm around his waist and met his wide-eyed stare. My chest squeezed at the gratitude and raw emotion. He’d obviously been terrified, and I felt like a fucking asshole. But he wasn’t my friend; he was someone I was using for information. I had to remember that. Dad had disappeared near the compound, and Dylan might know more than he was letting on.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” he whispered. “I was so scared.”
A lump formed in my throat because I’d never seen him so unguarded. Certainly not with me. “It’s fine.” I patted his back awkwardly and let him go.
He swayed, and I thought he might fall, but he grabbed the towel holder and stayed upright. “You say they beat you?” he asked.
“The big guy was pissed off at me for interfering.” I sat on the side of the tub.
He hesitated, and then he sat beside me. “Thank you for trying to help me.”
“God. Of course. I had to help.”
I’m going to hell for sure.
He shivered. “I think the bigger guy drugged me. He bought me a drink, and then I started feeling groggy.”
“What a pig.”
He watched me with bloodshot eyes. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
Now that I was seeing him up close and personal, his thrashed condition was getting to me more than I’d expected. He had a couple of days’ growth on his chin, and he looked even thinner than I remembered. His delicate cheekbones jutted even more than usual. It had only been two days, but he looked like he’d aged ten years. I’d been so caught up in my plan to use him for information, I’d kind of forgotten he was a real person, and that this experience was probably the worst thing that had ever happened to him.
I forced myself to stop obsessing about how exhausted he looked and focused on the plan. “Did they try to rough you up too?” I asked.
“No. Not yet.” He was looking at me like I was Sir Lancelot come to save the day.