Page 57 of Break

Wincing, I nod once. “I was.”

More silence ensues, neither of us knowing what to say now. I haltingly start, and then build in confidence as I say, “I… I’m not going to expect any forgiveness from you, but I hope that you’ll learn that I’m not a bad guy. And maybe give me a chance to get to know you a bit while we’re staying here?”

Mina’s eyes bore into mine for a moment before she nods slowly. “I can try.” Her voice is soft, but I hear the reluctance in it. I let out a breath slowly, accepting that at least it’s not a no.

“Maybe we can start later today? Want to go out for a walk or something? I’m sure you’re tired of being stuck in the house. We can’t go out into town just yet because of you know who.” I know I’m rambling, but I’m desperate to change the heaviness of this whole conversation. Whispering, I cup a hand around my mouth. “You know…Voldemort.”

She fights a smile before looking away from me. “Maybe.” Then she jumps when I smack my hands on my thighs.

“I’ll take a maybe. Alright sweetness, I’m going to get out of your hair and stop talking about serious shit for a bit. I’ll be around the house today, so let me know if you need anything.”

She fidgets as she nods her head. Deciding not to push her anymore, I go to leave the room before stopping and turning back to her. Her back is to me now, but I speak up anyway, my voice thick with emotion.

“Mina, I really am sorry for not being a friend for all those years. I’m going to do everything I can to show you’ve got one in me now.”

With that, I leave the room, missing the small shudder that runs through her body at my promise.

Chapter 25

Sick

Ethan

She’s sick.

Like,reallysick.

Standing in the doorway, I watch her. I’m so fucking worried over the paleness of her skin and the sheen of sweat beading across her brow as she furiously scrubs at a spot on a pristine plate in the sink.

Normally, Walter is up her ass, but always leaning on her or sleeping at her feet. But right now, he’s sitting at attention only a foot away, staring at her with his ears perked up. Poor dog knows something is wrong

I debate what to do when she wobbles on her feet and all my hesitancy races out of me. Hurrying over to her, I pull the plate and sponge from her hand and set them down, then scoop her up into my arms.Christ, she doesn’t weigh anything.

Her eyes are unfocused as she tries to look at me, unsure of what’s going on. “What… What are you doing?” The words are slightly slurred and my concern grows more rapidly.

When I narrow my eyes at her, I realize she must think I’m angry because she shrinks away. I do my best to soften my features, giving her a gentle smile in a pathetic attempt to soothe her. “Taking you to bed. You’re sick.”

I chuckle at her look of outrage.

“I’m notsick,”she sputters.

Shifting her weight in my arms, I rest my hand against her forehead and am surprised when she attempts to smack it away. I catch her hand easily and hold it between us. “You have a fever and need to rest.”

She grumbles something unintelligible, but she’s too weak to put up much of a fight. As I carry her towards the stairs, I feel her body relaxing in my arms. She rests her head against my chest, so I tighten my arms a little more tightly as she fights off the sleep threatening to claim her.

When we get to her room, I set her on the bed gently, and she immediately curls into a ball, pulling the covers tight around her. With a quick glance at her side table, I see a glass of water and a book, but nothing else. I need to get her to take something for the fever before it gets worse. “Mina,” I call to her softly, reaching out and brushing some loose strands of hair from her forehead. I’m relieved when I notice that the bruising around her eye has almost completely disappeared. “I’m going to grab you something for your fever. Is there anything you need? What can I do to help you?”

Her steady breathing is her only answer. She’s passedout. Sighing, I grab her glass to refill it with fresh water and find some Tylenol to set next to her. I know people get sick, but aside from taking care of myself whenever I’m ill, I’ve never taken care of someone else. I’ll talk to Vincent and Max and ask if they know what to do. I’m not even sure what’s wrong with her outside of the fever.

Returning to her room, I find Max filling her doorway, staring at her with a grim look. Without looking away from her, he asks, “What’s wrong with her? She never sleeps in this late.”

Nudging him to move out of the way, I answer in a quiet voice so we don’t bother her. “Not sure. She’s sick, though.”

“Sick?” he repeats, following me into the room and moving to the opposite side of her bed from me.

I sit slowly on the edge of her bed and rest my hand on her shoulder to get her attention. “Mina, honey. Would you sit up for me? I’ve got something to help you kick the fever.”

Peeling one eye open, she takes a moment to focus on what I’m asking her to do before she groans softly and pushes herself up. Holding out the pills to her, she reaches for them with a shaking hand and places them on her tongue. Then she wraps her fingers around the glass and takes a drink to wash them down. Sighing, Mina moves to set the cup on her side table, but I take it and set it down for her.

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