Page 13 of Noah

Noah placed food next to her. “Eat,” he growled.

“So eloquent,” she joked weakly.

The fact that they didn’t bother to teach him more than basic words seemed downright rude to her. She could hardly berate them for it when they could kill her.

She sighed, “I have no illusions about my survival. No one will search for me. If I tell you about myself, you can keep my memory alive.”

When she patted his hand gently, Noah didn’t snap and snarl. “You’ll probably find more people looking for you even if they don’t know your name. They still find Numbers, and they’ll keep looking until there’s none of you behind bars.”

She pressed her lips together. “Hopefully, they’ll find you soon, and you won’t have to wait any longer.” He growled. “Maybe you shouldn’t growl at everyone you meet,” she murmured.

Noah pulled her hand off him and flipped it over, then placed it on his chest.

She stared at her hand pressed against his pectoral muscle and mumbled, “Umm…er…” Unsure what he wanted, she bit her lip when he patted her hand. Her heart raced as she felt the warmth of his skin, and his gaze made her blush.

He grumbled, “More.”

Hit with sudden understanding, she murmured, “Ah…okay.” Her eyes rolled, and she patted his chest, giving him what he wanted while trying to disconnect from the strangeness around her.

“I don’t know what you’re doing here,” she murmured, pissed at the people who were holding them. “There’s been reports a Number is still caged, but that died down. After, whoever it was showed up fine and on camera, so you are an unknown.”

Also, it was time she stopped thinking of him as her Number.

“Ren,” he growled loudly, frustrated that she had stopped moving.

She patted him again and sighed. Adrienne wanted to tell him she wasn’t his personal petting machine but didn’t want to annoy him.

“It’s okay,” she said softly, understanding that for him, he needed this.

She could give him this.

He had spent time caring for her. “Okay, I’ll pat your chest and then I need clothes.” She leaned into the blanket and tightened it around her. “Clothes,” she repeated.

While watching her lips form the words, his eyes drew closer together. When he pulled her sheet, she squeaked and held tight. Suddenly, his eyes swung to the bench built into the wall.

There were her clothes, damaged though they were, hanging off them with her damaged bra dangling off the edge. She almost laughed when he lifted his lip at her bra.

“Not a fan of bras. Noted,” she joked weakly.

He tore her bra and removed her clothes. She had no idea what he was doing or looking for, but a bit of communication wouldn’t have gone amiss.

She groaned. Of course, he couldn’t communicate with her.

“I don’t know what to do.” When he examined her, she laughed, “I’ve never had to handle anything like this before.” She pressed her lips tightly together. “No one has,” she corrected. “He said I had hypothermia, right?” she asked.

Noah tilted his head slightly. He stood, grabbed her clothes, and threw them at her.

She pursed her lips at the tear in her shirt and the edge of her skirt. If he didn’t understand why she wouldn’t want her clothes ripped apart, it was useless to point it out.

His snarl froze her. “Sick,” he growled in response to her question.

She couldn’t process what he said for a minute because she hadn’t expected him to speak. “Yes, I was sick because I was cold,” she said slowly. She had no idea if he understood because he ignored her.

He turned his back and began to do push-ups so she could change in privacy. Adrienne didn’t believe he was trying to protect her modesty, but rather he didn’t want to look at her.

She slipped her shirt over her head and shimmied her skirt on under the covers. She glanced at her black silk shorts and tried to hide them under the blanket and put them on without him seeing.

He stood up and she shoved them under the pillow. His eyebrows rose. The rumble of the food hatch distracted him, pulling his attention away from her.

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