Page 30 of Caleb
We carry on with our run.
A couple of minutes later, I see her skipping a small puddle, and then she falls to her knees.
“Shit,” she mutters under her breath.
“Are you okay?” I stop cold and kneel beside her.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Her tone is laced with embarrassment.
“Let me help you get up.”
Luckily, she’s wearing leggings, so she didn’t scrape her knees, but I’m sure they’ll be bruised from the fall. Then, she holds onto my shoulder and winces when trying to set her foot on the ground to push herself up, so I pull her up myself. She’s standing on one foot, her face distorted with pain. She must’ve hurt her ankle.
“What hurts?”
“I’m fine,” she snaps back, water dripping heavily down her face.
“Miss Murphy,” I say, unable to make myself sound less commanding. She’s getting on my nerves with the whole “I’m fine” thing when she’s clearly not. I take a deep breath to chill the fuck out and say in a softer tone, “You must’ve sprained your ankle.”
“I guess,” she finally admits. “I felt my ankle twisting when I jumped over the puddle. But give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll be good to go.”
Couple of minutes, my ass. It’s raining, and it’s only getting colder. Waiting is pointless.
I click on my earpiece to explain the situation to Aaron and ask him to pick us up at Place du Carrousel. She’s parting her lips to complain, I’m sure. But I lift a finger and ask her to wait until I get confirmation from Aaron.
“Aaron’s on his way,” I say matter-of-factly. I’m not going to negotiate with her.Thisis my job, and these are the decisions I am entitled to make on her behalf. She’s delusional to think she’ll be able to resume her run, and walking back to the Residence in the cold and rain is out of the question.
Not on my watch.
She lets out a defeated breath through her mouth. Good. She’s done resisting.
“Right this way, Miss Murphy,” I say, waving toward the Louvre. “You think you can walk?”
“I think so.” She’s holding on to my arm, so I place mine around her shoulders and help her give slow, careful steps toward our rendezvous. I can tell she’s having trouble setting her foot on the ground properly. She’s limping.
We’ve probably taken ten excruciatingly slow steps when it starts pouring.
Enough.
I bend my knees and swoop Miss Murphy up in my arms. She gasps, and I can’t help but smile at her reaction. She’s not complaining. She knows she’s hurt and has finally given up and accepted the help she needs.
The rain is unyielding, and we’re soaking wet. Miss Murphy’s got a tight hold around my neck and having her so close to me is doing something to me. I’m concentrating on looking ahead and making sure every step I take is precise. Wouldn’t want to fall or slip with her in my arms.
It’s like I was born for this. To take care of her. To protect her. It feels too good to have her in my arms like this, taking her back to safety.I can’t find the right words to explain it. All I know is it’s unreal to be able to call this my job. I can safely say that at twenty-two years old, I’ve found my passion.
The sky lights up, and then lightning strikes loudly in the distance, making Miss Murphy cower and place her forehead in that soft spot between my neck and shoulder.
“Sorry.” She lifts her face again.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her, unable to make myself look at her. To have this girl’s trust is overpowering. She’s letting me carry her back to the car. Knowing how stubborn she can be and how much she hates needing help from others, I wouldn’t have been impressed if she’d decided to skip back on one foot while I served as a human cane. But that would’ve been too much even for her. I’m glad I can be of service.
I pick up my pace when I see Aaron approaching the roundabout.
Finally, I put Miss Murphy down so she can hop in the car. Instead of riding in the front, I walk around and sit in the back with her. I should check her foot.
I tap my thigh twice, my way of asking her to lend me her foot. She bites her lower lip and does as she’s told. “It’s best to keep the foot up to avoid further swelling.” Then, after asking permission to remove her tennis shoe, I do it slowly. Her ankle is double the size it should be. It does not look good.
“How’s her foot?” Aaron asks.
