OLIVIA…
My heart still wanted to race when Jim walked with purpose into the room. That Michelle had seen the two of us spending time together shouldn’t have shocked me. That was the reason for my time here, after all. Yet, hearing we would spend the night together did worry me. Everything rode on how carefully I proceeded, now. I couldn’t fail. Not now. Not this close.
I continued looking through my bag, as if I didn’t notice him, and struggled to maintain my breathing and pulse. He was dangerous. So very dangerous.
As much as I wanted to push him away, to tell him to leave, I knew I couldn’t. I needed him. Only not as a Mate, no matter what he felt for me. No matter what I was starting to feel for him.
When I found a clean pair of leggings and a loose t-shirt, I turned toward the bathroom.
“You can change the bandages after I’m done,” I said in an even tone.
“Me?”
“Yes. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To take care of me?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer.
“I don’t know. Is it?” he said softly.
His purpose was so much more, and the question made my heart thump harder for a beat. I was sure he heard it. Instead of cringing, I met his gaze, or what I thought might be his gaze given the shape of his head, with a steady stare.
“Only if you want to,” I said.
I stepped into the bathroom without waiting for his answer and closed the door. I watched him through the wall as he ran a hand over his chest then wandered around the room. His broad shoulders looked like they could easily take on any weight in the world. They would have, too.
A stab of regret hit me before I could stop it. Blake’s impatience immediately followed. This time, I did cringe. I’d slipped too many times in just a few hours. I would need to call him before I went to bed, and I dreaded it.
Someone walking in the hall stopped to knock on our door, distracting me from my suppressed misery. Jim crossed the room to answer. The person’s shape looked familiar, but I hadn’t been with the group long enough to easily identify each of them yet.
I watched Jim accept something as I carefully removed my shirt. The open wounds twinged, but Winifred’s bandages held firm. Quickly changing with a back flayed by the Others proved impossible. Every move I executed, I did slowly and with purpose. It took a few tries to get the new shirt back on. By the time I finished, Jim had closed the door and resumed his wandering.
The bra, which had ridden high on my back prior to the Others taking their due, lay on the floor. My brow already glistened from the effort of putting a shirt on. The thought of the bra accidently rubbing the top of my wounds had me turning away. I wouldn’t be wearing it again for a long while.
Holding out my hand, I felt for the handle and opened the door. Jim turned from his position near the room’s work table and faced me.
My back ached with each step as I walked toward him. It needed to be checked to ensure I hadn’t made the wounds bleed again with all my moving around. I knew that. However, I honestly just wanted to lay on my stomach and sleep while the world worried about its own problems for a while. The thought made the deeply hidden part of me want to cry. As much as I wanted to hide from my fate, I couldn’t.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, I didn’t immediately recognize the silence or the tense way Jim held himself as he faced me. Stopping, I glanced around the room at the Others, trying to understand what might be wrong. They seemed to be swirling around normally.
Shifting my attention back to Jim, I suppressed my apprehension.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Your shirt.” His rough words didn’t help ease my nervousness.
I smoothed my hand over the front of it, feeling the soft material. The softest shirt I owned. I’d packed it knowing what would happen, knowing I’d need something comfortable. It was one of my favorite sleep shirts.
“Is it stained?” I asked. I always washed my own clothes, making it difficult to know if I’d ruined something until Blake commented on it, which he hadn’t.
“No.” That single word came out in a whoosh like I’d hit him.
“Is it an ugly color? Tell me.”
He reached out and trailed the knuckle of his first finger along my collar bone.
“I can see through it. Every beautiful detail. And I
want—” He groaned, clutched at his chest, and collapsed to his knees.
I barely paid him attention as understanding, followed immediately by disgust, filled me. Jim could see through my shirt. He could see my breasts. I didn’t care about Jim seeing. I cared about how many times I’d worn this shirt before this moment. Blake had always complemented me on it when he’d come to lock me in my room for the night. I’d worn it often because he would be less cold.
Bile rose in my throat, and I staggered a step to sit on the bed. He would touch my cheek gently and kiss me good night. I’d never felt lust. But, deep down, I knew it had been there.
Jim’s choking noise drew my attention. The Others swirled around him in excitement. I moved quickly, hurting my back, and knelt beside him.
“Jim.” I reached out and placed my hand against his cheek. Sweat wet my palm. “This was my favorite shirt to wear to bed.”
“Not helping,” he panted between pained grunts.
“Blake saw me in it every time he locked me in my room for the night. He never said anything when he looked at me. But I would always feel…something from him. I ignored it. Pretended it wasn’t there. You need to do the same. Ignore what you feel for me. You can’t die now, Jim. I can’t do this alone.”
His hand gripped mine, pressing my fingers more firmly into his cheek. Gradually, his breathing slowed, and he turned his face, brushing his lips against the palm of my hand. My heart thumped heavily in my chest at the sensation. Dangerous. I swallowed hard and pushed what I wanted to feel aside.
The tickling warmth of his breath against the skin of my hand made my insides go hot and cold.
I tried to stand, but he didn’t release my hand.
“Go lay on the bed,” he said. “On your stomach.”
That just made my insides act crazier. He inhaled deeply and gave another choked groan.
“You smell so good.”
“Not helping,” I said nervously, repeating his words. “My insides are going crazy, and I don’t know how well I’m holding it all back from Blake. If he suspects I’m with an interested male—”
“He’ll send everyone he has at us,” Jim said. He released me, his reluctance shown in the drag of his fingers against the back of my hand.
“Lay down,” he said again. “I’ll look at your back.”
I stood with care and went to the bed. Getting onto my stomach hurt, but once I was there, I could relax. Until I felt his fingers on my shirt. I struggled not to go all hot and cold again. The material slowly inched its way up under his gentle touch. When he had the bottom above the top of the cuts, he stopped. Then he started peeling off the taped gauze.
“How does it look?” I asked when he did nothing for a moment.
“Not good.”
“It started bleeding again?”
“No. It’s oozing clear, but not bleeding.”
“Oh. That’s good then.”
He didn’t comment as he spread some ointment on and covered the area with clean gauze again.
“I’ll be right back,” he said after gently tugging my shirt back into place.
The door softly opened and closed. I didn’t bother to track his progress. Instead, I reached for the cellphone that rested on the nightstand between the beds and dialed Blake’s number. He picked up on the first ring.
“They tried using the Provider to see if she could get a premonition of what we need to do,” I said without preamble. “It didn’t work. They seem to have no set plan regarding what they will do with or without the answer.”
“Stop telling me useless information,” Blake said into the phone. “What is happening? I’m feeling things from you.”
“I didn’t want to worry you, but the bruises on my face aren’t my worst injuries. I have three gashes on my back. They hurt. And I’ve also been trying to encourage interest in the males here, thinking it would put me in a favorable position of influence.”
The soft brush of something on my back told me I wasn’t alone anymore.
“I don’t like it.”
“I don’t either, but you told me to use their kindness to gain answers. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“I don’t like your tone,” he said softly. I shivered despite trying not to.
“I’m sorry, Father,” I said as contritely as I could manage.
“I’ll see you soon, Olivia. When we’re together again, I’ll keep you safe. Perhaps we’ll finally finish what you started.”
I let my mind go blank at his words. Don’t think about it. Don’t feel. Don’t react.
“Yes, Father,” I said.
“Goodnight, Olivia.”
The line went dead, and I lifted the phone for whoever was there to take it. Tears leaked from my eyes. The only physical sign that I really did feel something after that phone call.
“There’s no happy ending for me,” I said, mostly to myself. “If we don’t make the Judgement or if we Judge in favor of the humans, the Others will come. If we make the Judgement…”
I swallowed hard and refused to think about what would happen then as well.
Large, warm fingers gently brushed away the tears.
“If you make the Judgement, there will always be a place for you with us. With me,” Jim said.
I swallowed hard. His words painted a picture I would hold onto when the time for Judgement came.
“I have some ice for your back,” he said.
A moment later, a slight weight settled over my wounds. The cool felt so good.
“You can only keep it on for a short time. Slowing blood flow slows the healing, but I thought it might feel good after changing.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked. He’d heard the call with Blake. He knew I hadn’t lied about any of it, even the part about encouraging his interest. His continued kindness confused me.
His fingers brushed the hair away from my face.
“Because I believe you,” he said simply.