Lover Mine(81)

Her little smile had the edge of a dagger. "Nice job. I heard the whole thing. Anyway, it was after everything went quiet that I knew I had to get out or . . ."

Die, he thought. Because of what he'd done in that kitchen.

"So I was--"

He held his hand up to stop her, then wrote fast. When he showed her his words, she frowned and then shook her head.

"Oh, of course you wouldn't have done it if you'd known I was in there. But you didn't. And it sounded as if you couldn't help it. Trust me, I'm the last person you need to apologize to for slaughtering one of those bastards."

True, but he still got a case of the cold sweats thinking of how he'd inadvertently endangered her.

She took another long inhale. "So anyway, after you left, it became apparent the barrier was weakening, and when I was able to punch my fist through a window, I knew I had a shot." She lifted one of her hands and looked at the knuckles. "I ended up taking a runner through the doorway. I figured I was going to need the extra force working with me and I was right."

Xhex shifted around in the bed, wincing. "I think that's where I got the tear. On my inside. I got wrenched badly breaking out--it was like pulling my body through concrete that was about set. I hit the hallway wall hard as well."

There was the temptation to believe the bruises he'd seen on her skin were a result of her escape. But he knew Lash. He'd stared into the face of the guy's cruelty enough times to be absolutely sure that she'd been put through a lot at the hands of the enemy.

"That's why I needed to be operated on."

The statement was voiced in a clear and level way. Trouble was, she did not meet his eyes.

John flipped to a new page, wrote six letters in capitals and tacked on a question mark. When he turned the pad around, she barely glanced at the REALLY?

That gunmetal gray stare of hers swung away and locked on the far corner. "It could have been an injury I sustained fighting him. But I hadn't been bleeding internally before I got out, so . . . there you go."

John exhaled and thought of those scratched and stained walls he'd seen in that room. What he wrote next made him ache.

When she looked at what he'd put on the page, her face grew tight to the point of anonymity. It was as if he were staring at a stranger.

He glanced down at his words: How bad did it get?

He shouldn't have asked, he thought. He'd seen the condition she was in. Had heard her scream in the OR and been right in front of her as she had a nervous breakdown. What more did he need to know?

He was writing up an I'm-sorry when she spoke in a thin trail. "It was . . . okay. I mean . . ."

His eyes locked on her profile and he willed her to continue.

She cleared her throat. "I don't believe in fooling myself. Doesn't serve any purpose. I was pretty clear on the fact that if I didn't get out, I was going to die soon." She slowly shook her head back and forth on the white pillow. "I was getting really goddamned weak from lack of blood and the fighting. Thing is, I was okay with the dying part, actually. I still am. Death is nothing but a process, albeit typically a painful one. Once it's over and done with? You're fine because you don't exist and all the bullshit is over."

For some reason, the fact that she was so blase made him anxious and he had to rearrange himself on the little chair to keep from pacing.

"Was it bad?" she murmured. "I'm a fighter by nature. So to some degree it was nothing special. Nothing I couldn't handle. I mean, I'm tight. I lost it in the clinic because I hate medical crap, not because of Lash."

That past of hers, he thought to himself.

"I will tell you this." Her eyes shot back to his and he actually jerked away at the burn in her stare. "What will make it bad? What will make the last three weeks totally unbearable? If I don't kill him. That will be insupportable to me."

The bonded male in him sat up and howled, to the point where he wondered if she knew he wouldn't be able to let her be the one to off the motherfucker: Males protected their females. It was the universal law if you had the cock and balls.

Plus the idea of her going anywhere near that guy made John mental. Lash had already taken her once. What if he pulled that cloaking shit again?

They weren't going to get a second chance to get her back. No way.

"So," she said. "I showed you mine. Your turn."

Right. Okay.

Now he was the one staring into that far corner. Jesus Christ. Where to start.

He flipped to a fresh page on his pad, put the Bic nib down, and . . .

Whole lot of nothing came to him. The problem was, there was too much to write, too much to tell her, and wasn't that depressing as shit.

A sharp knock brought both of their heads around.

"Goddamn it," she said under her breath. "Give us a minute!"