The water to the shower turns off. Behind me, Trey moves away from the glass partition. He’s looking at the floor, at the sticky, ointment footprints I’ve left on the pristine white tile. Without a word he walks to the gigantic spa tub and activates it. It’s not like a normal one, taking several minutes to fill from a spout. No, not at all like that. Water comes up from the floor of the tub, filling it to capacity in a matter of moments. Steam curls up invitingly. From his pocket, he produces a small vial. He unstops it and pours the liquid into the water.
I must look confused, because he says, “Jax gave me this. It’s for your skin—to help heal any of the cuts you may still have. He also gave me this.” He holds up another vial. “It’s for pain.”
“I don’t need that one,” I murmur, nodding my head toward the additional vial. I need to stay lucid; dropping my guard now is ludicrous. We’re hidden in plain sight here. We can’t count on this position to harbor any real shelter—not for much longer, anyway.
“You’re in pain. You can hardly lift your arm up,” Trey observes.
“It’s not that bad—really—I’m just a little stiff is all.”
“How am I to know that when you minimize everything that happens to you?”
“I don’t do that—”
“You do,” he counters in a quiet way. He believes it. He must be upset about what I asked Jax when we arrived—about whether or not I’d been raped. I look away from the mirror for a moment. Right now, I don’t want to talk about the interrogation or anything that has gone on in the last few days. I want to pretend like none of this is happening—like we’re not at war. The thought of Kyon is enough to make my stomach ache. He’s probably out there hunting for me, and there’s nothing I can do about it except hide from him.
I try to reel in my thoughts and change the subject. “How long have I been asleep?” I look at my wringing hands.
“Almost two rotations.”
I glace back to the mirror to see his expression. It hasn’t changed from his look of concern. “Should we have moved from here by now?” I ask with an uneasy grimace.
“We couldn’t—”
“Because of me?” I ask worriedly.
He shakes his head. “No. The enemy has occupied the city just east of here and they have positions north and south. There’s resistance fighting just outside the city limits—Rafe troops are mobilizing there.”
“Oh,” I say. I should want to know more, but I don’t. I’m afraid to know more.
Trey waits for me to ask questions. When I don’t, he grows more concerned. His voice is softly soothing as he says, “We’re safe for now, and that’s not likely to change soon. We’ll know before it does, and then we’ll leave.”
“You promise?” I fiddle with the countertop, closing the sink with a wave of my fingers on the glass.
“I promise,” he vows.
“Do you have a plan just in case?”
“Yes,” he says, nodding.
“Is it a good plan?”
“The best of plans.”
“Is it better than crossing fields at night occupied by saers with only a recurve?”
“Much better than that plan,” he says with a reluctant smile. “And we have much better food this time.”
I exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Okay then.”
“Why didn’t you wake me when you got up? I could’ve helped you,” Trey asks.
I wave my hand dismissively. “You looked exhausted. Have you slept more than a few parts since we’ve been here?”
“I’ve gotten rest here and there.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal.
In the mirror, he grows larger as he moves nearer until he towers over me. He stops just a breadth away, but I feel him as if we’re touching. His closeness is a physical thing, pulling me to him. Warmth radiates from him, enveloping me. I lean back against his broad chest. He bends his neck so the new growth from his beard tickles my throat, sending a shiver crashing through me. My cheeks flush, adding color to them as he reaches for the hem of my shirt.
“Your ribs are still healing—let me help you with this.” He begins to lift the fabric up when I cover his hands with mine. It’s so intimate, letting him undress me, I don’t know if I can handle it. I struggle to meet his eyes in the mirror.
When I do, he says, “It’s just me, Kricket. Lift your arms.” The earnestness of his request wars with my senses. Before I met him, I never let anyone help me do anything.