Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
“Have your limbs rendered,” he corrected.
I blinked.
He was in pain. In a stranger’s house. Vulnerable as shit.
I couldn’t imagine. Hadn’t everything I’d done for my life been to not put myself into a vulnerable position? To not have to rely on other people more than necessary?
He still didn’t say shit as I folded the towel and started wiping at his other arm, focusing on that as I thought about just how much I’d hate being in his position.
I opened my mouth just as he held up his index finger. “I don’t… like interruptions.”
I pressed my lips together and focused on the fact that he could barely talk without panting.
I would hate to be in the same position he was in.
“I got… hit. Hard,” he continued, his words slow.
Something hit him? What in the hell was strong enough to hit him? Where had he been in the first place?
I shouldn’t have asked. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know, especially if I wanted to actually sleep tonight or any night ever again.
“My back… hurts,” he admitted so, so slowly, those cheeks flexing again.
Why was he saying it as if he thought it was my fault?
His eyes opened, and his gaze flicked toward me there on my knees by his feet, his face wiped smooth of any expression, even the grumpy one. Those pale lavender lids fell over those dark purple eyes as he lifted his chin just a little bit and said—sounding… resentful?—“I’m… weak.”
It was nothing I hadn’t already figured out, but to hear him actually admit it?
I had to leave.
I was going to die. Whatever had done that to him was going to find him here.
We were dead, or at least I was.
I needed to go.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
“Stop… panicking…,” The Defender breathed out.
Easier said than done. I tried to make myself calm down, but that wasn’t the way this kind of shit worked. You didn’t just tell your body to stop freaking out.
“Stop,” he growled.
I’d get right on that. After I got my suitcase out, threw some clothes in, and drove as fast as I could away from here. Maybe I wouldn’t even bother getting clothes and I’d go straight for my car. I’d have to live off-grid for a while, but I could drive to the nearest major town and do my lessons in my car. I had a translating job for a small publisher next month that would be enough money to hold me over for a while; I’d been trying to get into transcribing books to supplement my income, and I’d been excited to land it. I could figure it out.
I always did.
“If someone… comes… I’ll sense it… first…,” he struggled to say.
I wasn’t feeling so optimistic about that, not when he’d been passed the hell out for three days straight.
But something must have been on my face because he narrowed those incredible purple eyes at me even more.
Was he… mean-mugging me? He was, wasn’t he? Why? I was going to have to keep that knowledge to myself. I didn’t want to ruin the dreams of millions of little kids around the world by being the one to tell everyone what his personality was really like. I could barely handle my own being crushed every time he glared at me.
I stared at him.
“I’m always… aware,” he tried to claim.
I couldn’t help it, I whispered, “Even when you’re snoring?”
The glare I got….
“Kidding,” I said, flipping his hand over to wipe the skin on his palm. I knew better. I needed to stop. “It’s a joke. I had to check your wrist a few times to make sure you were still breathing, but I’m sure you’re aware of that.” Lies. “Look, I’m too young to die. That’s all.” At least that’s what I wanted to believe.
“No dying,” The Defender muttered.
I didn’t believe him, not when he might be the one to wring my neck if I didn’t get him his steak and chicken. I had other people to worry about doing the job too, but he didn’t need to know that.
Just as I opened my mouth to reluctantly agree that I believed him, he started to strain on the bed like he wanted to lie down.
Catching him wincing, I helped him. His groans and low-key moans filled the room. There was something really wrong, and we both knew it, but he was in denial for whatever reason. I lifted one heavy leg after the other onto the mattress, helping him until he managed to lie flat on his back.
The Defender’s face relaxed almost instantly, and a feeling of dread got to me again. My grandma used to say that I’d been born with a hint of intuition; then my grandpa would claim I’d gotten it from his side. He never really talked about his family, but when he did, he always brought up his own grandmother. According to him, she had known things that were going to happen before they did. Grandma had always made skeptical faces when she overheard him whispering about her to me, but I was pretty sure he believed what he’d seen and heard.