Page 35 of Tethered to the World
“Grá, we need to check your shoulder.” Logan crouched in front of the fridge, staying two feet away to give her room, but refusing to back up, refusing to leave. He looked pale and shaken, his anger having long since burned off.
She knew they wouldn’t leave, no matter how much she argued. Heaving a sigh, she pushed to her feet. “Fine.”
Mason edged around Logan. “Let me help.”
He grabbed her hips and gently lifted her until she was seated on the counter. He immediately removed his hands and retreated, as if afraid to spook her again, and she gave him a small smile. “Sorry, I’m just not used to being around so many people.”
“We can leave,” Mason offered, and the rest of the guys tensed.
She gave him a small smile. “No, it’s better now. Just don’t make any sudden moves and I won’t forget.”
“Forget?” Logan latched onto the one word as he straightened to his feet.
“The injury is messing with my mind. Instinct takes over, and it takes me a moment to remember you’re not hunting me.” No one spoke for a moment as they gaped at her, then Xander slowly inched closer and nodded to her shoulder, his hands in the air to show he meant no harm.
“I need to look at your injury.” He didn’t drop his gaze or move as he waited for her to adjust to his nearness.
With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she shrugged out of the shirt, the pain so buried that she hardly felt anything. When Xander saw her injury, he sucked in a harsh breath, and she glanced down at the meaty mess.
When no one moved, she grabbed what was left of her shirt collar, ready to tear it and take care of the injury herself.
“Stop!” Camden snapped.
Annora froze then looked over at him. “What?”
But instead of answering, the guys shared a glance, like they were communicating and leaving her out. “Don’t do that. If you have something to say, spit it out.”
Camden nodded toward her wound, but kept his arms firmly crossed so not to scare her. “I can knock you out so you don’t feel the pain.”
He actually appeared worried.
It was kind of sweet.
“No, I’m good.” She didn’t tell them she was afraid of being unconscious. Bad things happened when she wasn’t awake to protect herself. Besides, she barely felt the pain anymore. It was more of a stinging sensation, a reminder that she’d taken damage.
The guys glanced at each other once again, more quickly this time, before they looked back at her. Then Xander began to examine the injury. She automatically inhaled the scent of fresh sea air that was so much a part of him, easing the nausea caused by the stench of her charred flesh.
Up close he was even more intimidating, but she barely felt his touch as he probed the wound.
His beard was cropped neatly, covering half his face, and she was fascinated by what it hid. His lips were full, and she surprised herself by wondering what he would taste like. She quickly ducked her head. She wasn’t innocent—she couldn’t be after what she’d survived—but she’d never actually kissed anyone willingly, never touched anyone with the expectation of pleasure.
No one in the kitchen moved, and they scarcely breathed for the next thirty minutes while Xander worked. Only when she was bandaged and he began to clear up supplies did she jump down from the counter, barely feeling the pain when the movement jarred her injury.
“Whoa!” Every one of the guys jumped forward, as if they expected her to keel over.
But they all stopped short when she remained standing.
“How bad is the nerve damage?” Camden wore his usual scowl, his eyes on her injury like it was his fault.
“None.” Xander glanced up from his task and looked at her with an inscrutable expression. “She has a high tolerance for pain.”
“Bullshit.” Logan shoved away from the fridge, both of his hands clutched in his hair. “She didn’t even flinch. Not once.”
When they all turned to her, she shrugged. “You get used to it after a while.”
“Fuck me.” Logan swallowed hard, then shot out of the kitchen, his eyes locked on the ground as if he couldn’t bear to look at anyone. It only took him a moment to cross the house and head outside.
She was afraid he was going to run, almost followed him, when he finally sat and began to build a fire in the pit, as if too restless to sit still.
