“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling good sooner?” Rachel scolded as she helped me into the house with one arm wrapped securely around my waist. The cold beads of the dress tickled the backs of my legs as we walked.
“I d-didn’t know. It c-came on f-fast.” We’d stayed at the club an hour at least, but the house remained quiet and dark. “Clay?” I called from the kitchen. No answer. How long did Dale keep him on a Friday night?
“I wonder where he is…” Rachel murmured helping me to my room and eyeing the empty bed.
Too late, I realized my mistake. When I’d called for Clay, I’d wanted the man forgetting all about Clay-the-dog. Thankfully, I hadn’t said anything more.
She unzipped the back of my dress because I shook too bad to reach it and then left my room to search the rest of the house for Clay.
I struggled to change into my warm pajamas.
She came back a minute later looking even more worried. “I can’t find him anywhere.”
“M-maybe he got out. I’m going to bed. I’m sure he’ll s-show up tomorrow,” I said crawling under the covers.
Rachel got me a glass of water, which she set on the dresser, and felt my forehead. “Doesn’t feel like a fever. Maybe it’s a low grade fever.”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ve had this before and just need sleep.” I burrowed deeper under the covers curling up to try to stop shaking. I wished for Clay again. I needed him. He warmed me, comforted me, and I needed to tell him about my promise to go to another Introduction. That wouldn’t go well.
Rachel continued to watch me. Nurse Rachel, not friend Rachel. I needed to distract her before she insisted I go see someone. “I forgot to tell you. I have plans to leave tomorrow to see Sam. If Clay’s back, I’ll be taking him with me.”
“You sure you’ll be up for it?”
“Yeah, it’s not something I have a choice about.”
“Alright,” she agreed reluctantly. “Wake me up if you need anything.” She left the room keeping the door ajar. It made my heart ache recalling how, first my mother, and then my grandmother had done the same for me whenever I’d been ill.
Chapter 15
I felt Clay hop up on my bed at some point the next morning and forced my eyes open. Early morning light pierced my still aching head. Shaking, I forced myself to remain awake. The last time this had happened, it had taken close to twenty-four hours of sleep before I woke up without a headache. I didn’t have time to sleep this one off. If I didn’t show up on time at the compound, those Forlorn would come looking for me. And Clay would get hurt again. My mind worked sluggishly. It would take a little over eight hours to get to the compound. I turned my head and saw nine am on the display.
“C-clay, we need to get to the compound. Can you drive?” I struggled to sit up and he cocked his fuzzy head at me. “A lot happened last night while you were gone. I’ll tell you about it on the way.”
I tried standing up, but a dizzying wave knocked me back onto the bed. While I sat there panting, I heard Clay move. The sound of the blood rushing in my ears distracted me. I took a moment to breathe deeply before trying to stand again.
This time, Clay wrapped an arm around me helping. He’d shifted. I glanced at the door. Still ajar. He needed to be careful. Was Rachel still home? My wandering eyes caught our reflection in the mirror.
He stood beside me, looking down at me with concern. No wonder. My arm curled around his bare waist in a death grip just to stay standing. My pale face enhanced the dark circles under my eyes. A frizzy mass of hair haloed my head. I looked like hell.
He, however, looked…
I stopped gazing at his naked chest long enough to see his eyes narrow.
…pissed. He’d just figured out what I’d done again and I experienced, for the first time, a sense of appreciation that he didn’t talk. Not wanting to meet his gaze, I decided to go back to enjoying the view. Wearing only a pair of jeans, he had an arm wrapped around my shaking shoulders. With the other, he reached up and lightly touched my forehead.
Looking at his image closer, I scowled.
He once again sported bruises and… I squinted… what looked like a bite mark. How many challengers were there out there? It’d thought just a couple. He came home with bruises too often for it to be the same few. And a bite mark? I frowned at the mark on his shoulder, but my fuzzy brain distracted itself again, noticing how good he looked shirtless. If I weren’t so sick, even with the bruises and bite mark, I probably would have drooled like a fool with the view he gave.
Giving up on scowling, I instead said, “I’ll need your help packing. Can you help me to the bathroom?”
He nodded and helped me through the door. My head throbbed with each step. I leaned against Clay, letting my head hang a little, trusting him to guide me.
I saw Rachel’s feet as she intercepted us. “Hi, Clay. How’d you get here?”