Page 236 of Assassin

He knew why.

“Are you going to be okay?” Poe asked, making sure to keep space between them.

Gamble shook his head.

“No. Please can I stay in here?” he asked. “I don’t do well sleeping alone. At Chartres, someone sleeps in the room with me.”

Well, it was a big bed, and the man was there for comfort.

“Sure. It’s okay. I have you, Gamble,” he offered, not believing he was saying any of this. Had any other patient tried to crawl into his bed…

He’d run for a door.

This man…

He’d somehow made him feel all sorts of feelings that weren’t safe or healthy.

He felt compelled to help him no matter what, and that was hella dangerous.

Gamble was remorseful.

“I’m sorry to bother you. Bad dreams.”

Poe wanted to help him, but he had to be appropriate. This was his patient, and there was absolutely no way sleeping in the same bed was a safe bet.

God.

But he wanted to.

Now, only, his license was on the line.

What they needed was a barrier, of sorts.

What to do?

What to do?

Pulling the blanket off of himself, he tucked it around his patient, making sure they weren’t sharing it. There was a protective barrier—somewhat.

Then, he tried to help him.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked.

Gamble didn’t answer.

Still, Poe pressed on.

“What were the nightmares about?” he asked. “You’ll feel better if you discuss it.”

He didn’t buy that, but what did he have to lose? When he’d woken up in a cold sweat, he felt the need to escape, but he’d promised this man he’d give him sixty days.

A Marine always kept his word.

Finally, he shared.

“She was drowning me. She was holding me under water, and blaming me. Storm told me if I was a man, I would have killed her and saved our child.”

Yeah, the guilt was getting to him.