Page 79 of Tangled in Knots

“Good, that means all my practice is helping,” the nurse teases me.

After she fills the three vials full of blood, I drink my juice slowly. My arm is wrapped up with a bandage to hold pressure as the pin prick on my arm clots, and while I feel a little dizzy, the juice should help.

“Can I see your shoulder?” Laurell asks, and I put the cup down, biting my lip because I have to take my shirt off.

“I can step out or stay to close the door,” Aisling says, seeing my problem. I’m wearing a bra so her seeing me doesn’t bother me. I’d just feel more comfortable with the door closed.

“In and closed, please,” I tell her, feeling better about the decision.

Pulling my shirt over my head, I turn to show the nurse my back. She changes her gloves before touching the skin, checking to see how it looks.

“It’s healing really well,” she admits. “Did you get treated at a hospital?”

“Kitchen operation,” I say softly. The nurse’s fingers still before stepping away. Turning to face her, I see her working to keep her face under control. I understand, I do. She must hear a lot of stories when she works here.

“They did a good job,” she says. “It won’t need to be covered anymore, there’s no redness. It’ll barely scar as well.”

“Glad to hear he did a good job,” I mumble numbly, pulling my shirt back on. I don’t want to think about how much it hurt or how I thought I was going to tumble into the darkness of my mind and never leave.

Everything feels hard, bleak, and sad. I’m already tired of it, I want something good to hold onto.

“Do you want me to look at anything else?” she asks, noting that she touched a nerve.

“Actually,” I start. “I want to work on strengthening my body. It’s ridiculous that I can’t manage to walk without wanting to fall over.”

“I bet it’s frustrating,” she agrees. “Your body wants fuel. Feed it, and start going on small walks. The courtyard is a good place to start, though I know it’s cold. Then move up to the treadmill. I’m a little afraid that if we start you on the treadmill, you’ll fall off.”

The image of that makes me snort, though there’s little amusement behind it. God, I’m officially an old curmudgeon at the age of twenty-two. Lovely.

“I have enough bruises, I don’t think my small ego could handle it if I fell off a treadmill,” I admit.

“Start easy,” she reminds me. “Eat small portions throughout the day if a full meal feels overwhelming. Most importantly, be kind to yourself. I don’t know your story, but when life beats on you, it’s easy to be hard on yourself too.”

The kindness makes my eyes well, though I’m able to hold the tears back as I nod jerkily.

“Thank you,” I rasp, taking the time to drain the cup of orange juice.

“If you’re going to stand, ease into it,” Laurell suggests.

Nodding, I take her advice, finding I’m only slightly wobbly and a bit dizzy. It’s better than I expected to be, yawning, I cover my mouth.

“Sorry,” I murmur, making a face.

“Thanks, Laurell,” Aisling says, opening the door. “You don’t have another appointment for a few minutes.”

Stepping out, we begin to walk down the hall.

“Feel like a walk and a chat?” Aisling asks. “Caleb wants to talk with you before he hires you. We’ll find you a pair of boots, grab you a snack, and a warmer coat.”

“Sure,” I say with a nod. I’m aware I don’t look at all ready for an interview, but if she’s not worried about my appearance, then I won’t either.

“Perfect,” she says. Aisling reminds me of a whirlwind of energy as she walks with me to the shelter and helps me find what I need. Someone made some protein balls that actually don’t taste too bad, and I nibble on one as we step outside into the alley after I sign out.

“Whenever you leave the shelter, you’ll leave from this door,” Aisling explains as I look around. It’s empty and quiet, and the alley is narrow. “Alphas aren’t allowed in this alley so it doesn’t bother anyone. If I need help with bringing things through here, I ask someone from the shelter to help. If I need muscle, I ask Evan, who is a beta in my pack.”

“You’re really careful,” I observe.

“We need to be,” she says as we walk. “I never want someone to feel as if they’re thrown into an emergency response because I was too lazy to carry my own shit. Anyone who delivers foodto the side door, for our grocer, is a beta. I honestly hate having to have someone deliver our food, and want to be more self-sufficient. It just takes a lot of time to grocery shop on the level the shelter needs.”

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