Jaz turned in his direction and her eyes landed on his face. He looked at her kindly, apologetically. She was stunned and then suspicious.
“Your- Erica... she never heard you mention it. Never even suspected you were anaemic,” he said.
Jaz frowned. “It's not exactly something I tell everybody. It's personal,” she retorted.
“You sound like you're... ashamed?” he observed incredulously, though the emotion was only faint in his tone.
Skye had finished applying the earthy-smelling mixture to Jaz's palm and was now wrapping a bandage around it.
“I'm not ashamed. It's just nobody's business. And I'm glad she never knew. It's not something I'd want my kidnappers to know.”
Driver exhaled sharply. “You could have died if we hadn't found out!”
She looked at the floor then back at him. “Death seemed more appealing,” she mumbled.
She avoided his penetrating gaze, focusing on Skye's healing hands as they worked. She guessed she must have appeared indifferent to the bombshell she'd just dropped on everyone, but inside she was deeply ashamed. She really couldn't believe she would have let herself die rather than tell them she was in need. It was pride beyond the extreme. The need to better herself (even in this horrible, twilight-zone of a situation) was like an itch she felt compelled to scratch. Not for anyone else; for herself.
After a moment, she glanced up at Maria who was still holding her handbag. “Can I have my pills, please?”
“Of course.” The old woman sounded surprised by Jaz's politeness. She held out Jaz's bag, stepping forward to reach her.
Jaz took it and bobbed her head in thanks. She opened the bag and found the pills bottle. A sense of paranoia tickled at her brain as she wondered if they'd swapped the pills. I'd know anyway, she assured herself, though she wasn't confident. Despite everything, something told her they wouldn't do that.
After all this drama and lack of food -apart from the bloody steak which had only boosted her energy enough to fight Driver- she was feeling the symptoms of severely low iron. She felt so tired she could barely keep her eyes open; and very sick and hollow from days of bad sleep, next to no food and only tap water. She wasn't even sure the pills would help. Guess it doesn't matter if I ask now. “This might not be enough...” she began.
Maria gazed at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Skye finished the bandage and got up to leave.
“I think I need an iron shot,” Jaz replied quietly. It was a hard thing to admit, especially to these people, but she didn't have a choice. “It's called Iron Dextran. That's what I'm usually given. If not, Ferumoxytol works pretty much the same.”
“Skye?” Driver signalled. It sounded like a command, Jaz observed, but then considered his voice always seemed to sound that way.
The dainty, tall girl turned to him, the first-aid kit tucked under her arm.
“Go with Maria to the surgery. When you find it, come back here alone.”
With that, the two women left, and Jaz's lungs compressed at the realization that she was once again alone with Driver.
*
Driver picked up her small, red suitcase from the floor and placed it on the bed. Then he sat on the far end of the bed to leave some space between them.
Jaz's gaze flickered in his direction then she looked away.
Her avoidance of him gave Driver the opportunity to observe her closely for the first time. His strong vision captured the golden-red strands of her bedraggled hair as the faint light from the window illuminated them; her pale, tired face appeared almost ghostly, but merely accentuated her natural beauty.
It was past eight at night; the room was lit by both the overhead lamps on the outside wall and the glorious, incandescent moon. The night sky was clear: he'd seen when he'd gone out for a smoke not long ago. He didn't smoke; that just proved how stressed out he was.
The warm yellow glow was very calming and subtle in the dim room; a good thing too. He didn't like bright lights. None of them did.
After all the drama and stress of the past few days, right now, in Jaz's close proximity, he found himself drifting into a new level of calm. A place he hadn't been for a long time.
“Get what you need for your shower,” he began gruffly.
She stared up at him then; her alluring, kyanite eyes, darkened by exhaustion, watching him with edginess.
“Go on,” he encouraged.
She held her gaze for one more second before she looked down and started unzipping her suitcase. She turned it so the lid would lift in his direction and partially block his view of the contents inside.
He was a gentleman -though a sometimes passionate, hot-headed one- and stood up to give her some privacy.
She then grabbed her handbag and plonked it onto her lap. He turned to watch as she rummaged aggressively through the contents. The shuffling and tapping of plastic and material filled the air and then stopped just as she pulled her hand back out, empty. “Where's my phone?” she demanded.
Driver's lips drooped down on one side. “We took it.”
Jaz's mouth opened to protest.