Page 88 of Fury
"I'll make sure of that," Greyson says, his tone brooking no argument.
Xavier raises an eyebrow at him but continues his examination. When he reaches for a fresh bandage from his medical bag, Greyson steps forward.
"I've got it," he says, taking the supplies from Xavier's hands.
"Greyson," I protest, embarrassed by his behavior. "Xavier knows what he's doing."
"I know," he acknowledges, but proceeds to wrap my ankle himself anyway, his movements surprisingly gentle despite the tension radiating from him. "I just… need to do this."
Xavier watches this display with knowing eyes. "She's going to need to move around a bit, Greyson. Keeping the joint immobile too long isn't good either."
"I'll help her," Greyson replies immediately.
True to his word, when I need to use the bathroom, he lifts me effortlessly into his arms, carrying me despite my protests that I could manage with his support. He waits outside the door, then carries me back to bed, arranging pillows beneath my injured ankle with meticulous care.
As morning bleeds into afternoon, the clubhouse fills with members coming to check on us. Mason arrives with breakfast, his usual teasing manner subdued as he takes in the bruises on my face.
"Hey, squirt," he says, setting a bag of pastries on the nightstand. "How're you holding up?"
Before I can answer, Greyson steps between us, his body language subtly shifting. "She needs rest," he says, his tone cordial but firm.
Mason's eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn't challenge the obvious display of territoriality. "Right. Just wanted to drop these off." He leans around Greyson to catch my eye. "Love you, Liv. Call if you need anything."
When Tiana and Cassandra arrive an hour later, Greyson's instincts kicks into overdrive. He positions himself at the edge of the bed, eyes tracking their every movement as they approach.
"We brought you clothes," Cassandra says, holding up a duffel bag. "Figured you might want something besides those bloodstained ones."
"Thanks," I say, reaching for the bag, but Greyson intercepts it.
"I'll check it first." He unzips the bag and methodically examines each item before passing it to me.
Tiana shoots me a look that clearly says, What the hell? but I just shake my head slightly. After what we've been through, I understand his paranoia, even if it seems excessive.
When my father arrives with lunch, Greyson finally relaxes marginally, allowing Dad to sit on the edge of the bed while he takes up his position by the window, still watching.
"How's she really doing?" Dad asks Greyson directly, his concern evident.
"Better," Greyson replies, his eyes never leaving me. "But she shouldn't be moved yet."
"I'm right here," I remind them both, irritated at being discussed as if I'm not present. "And I feel fine. Just sore and a little stiff."
"Xavier says another day of rest," Greyson counters firmly.
Dad nods, seemingly satisfied with this assessment. "Compound's still on lockdown. You'll both stay here until we're sure it's safe."
When Zach pokes his head in to deliver an update on business, Greyson steps into the hallway with him but leaves the door ajar, glancing back at me every few seconds.
"Your man's gone full grizzly bear," Tiana says when she and the girls come to visit me again, once Greyson is out of earshot. "I haven't seen him let anyone near you without looking ready to rip their throat out."
"He's just worried," I defend him, though even I have to admit his behavior has been extreme today.
"He carried you to the bathroom," Cassandra points out. "Torch offered to help earlier when Greyson was talking to your dad, and I thought he was going to get stabbed for suggesting it."
I sigh, unable to deny the truth of their observations. "We went through something… horrible. He's processing it in his own way."
By late afternoon, the pattern is firmly established. Greyson carries me to and from the bathroom, refusing all offers of assistance. When his parents arrive, bringing homemade soup and fresh bread, he allows his mother to embrace me but intercepts his father's attempt to help me sit up straighter.
"I've got her." He slides behind me on the bed to support my weight himself.
