Page 146 of Until I Own You

Seth inhales, tilting his head back so his eyes are focused on the ceiling.

The whole process makes me queasy, but I can’t look away as the EMT adjusts Seth’s dislocated finger back into its socket.

“God fucking dammit,” he growls through clenched teeth, his neck roping with tension.

I remain quiet, curled up on the big velvet chaise in the corner of the room.

We’ve camped up in one of the private rest rooms that are only accessible to club members.

They’re equivalent to rooms at a five-star hotel. Great for privacy. Also great as a basecamp for recovering from a traumatic incident.

Security has been coming in and out to check on us. The police have already come and gone. They questioned me privately, took witness statements.

The EMTs tried to insist on taking Seth to the hospital, and since he wouldn’t leave my side, and I couldn’t leave the club yet, here we are.

I took a shower to wash off…everything. I threw my dress in the trash. I never want to look at it again. I put on the plush robe left behind for overnight guests.

Seth and I haven’t spoken much. What is there to say?

It all happened so fast I barely remember the story.

I told the police what I could, but my mind is already trying to block it out. The same way it blocked out most of my college experience for the same fucking reason.

I watch as the EMT wraps Seth’s finger in a splint. He rattles off some directions about making sure his dislocated finger recovers properly, gives him an ice pack.

Seth looks over his shoulder at me. I don’t look away, though I’ve trained myself to. I smile at him, though I don’t have much strength for such things.

He smiles back.

We’re both so tired.

The EMT stands and gives me a look. “Alright. And you’re sure you’re all right?”

“Yes,” I say as loud as I can muster right now, which isn’t very loud at all.

The worst of it are the bruises on my arms. Nothing to be done about them.

He grabbed me hard.

Zack.

“Thanks, doctor.” Seth gets to his feet.

He walks the doctor to the door of the suite and gives him a handshake with his good hand before sending him out the door.

Seth turns around, leans up against the door, and looks at me.

We are alone. Finally, alone.

I pull my robe tighter around me.

I want to be alone, but if Seth left, I would need him to come right back.

He walks toward the chaise in a slow manner. “May I sit?”

I nod and draw my legs up under me to leave a spot for him at the end of the lounge.

Seth is careful as he sinks down to sit.

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