Page 54 of Damaged

“Yeah. Can you get dressed on your own?”

“I’ll be fine.”

James looks at me uncertainly.

“Really. I’m good.”

“Don’t stand up too fast,” James says and leaves the bathroom.

I take off my soaking bra and underwear. I have the opposite problem of heat stroke now. My teeth are chattering.

I realize I don’t have any clean clothes here. James didn’t bring any new ones from my room, and though my old ones are piled in the bathroom, they’re filthy with sand and dirt.

I dry myself as quickly as I can and wrap the towel around my torso. I leave the bathroom and find James standing next to the kitchen island.

“Could you do me a favor and have some clean clothes brought up from my room?”

“Shit. Of course. I’ll grab your suitcases myself. We’ll be rooming up again. Until these thugs are found, we’re not going to be separated.”

“Okay.”

“You’re safe here. The hotel is aware of the situation and is lending us extra security.”

“I’m not afraid,” I say, assuring James that I haven’t been left traumatized by my encounter earlier. If anything, I’m a little proud of myself.

Okay,reallyproud. I kind of kicked that guy’s ass.

Sure, I had to bite him. But the stupid son of bitch should’ve seen that coming. And then how I stomped on his ankle without thinking. And I didn’t pee myself, despite my bladder being at maximum capacity.

I may have peed myself a little. I had bigger worries on my mind. But it was just a little bit of overflow and not a full-blown release. Totally excusable for the circumstances.

“Your satchel is on the hall table. So is your room key. And don’t go onto the balcony. It might not be safe.”

“Thank you, James,” I say.

His eyes linger on me, like he’s having a hard time leaving me here alone, even if it is for only a few minutes.

“I’ll be right back,” he says and turns.

I curse when the door shuts. I was planning to go out on the balcony to warm myself up. This big, airy penthouse is anicehouse. I go back to the bathroom, strip off my towel and turn the water all the way hot.

It doesn’t get boiling. The temperature is about as hot as I can withstand, but it doesn’t last long. Before I know it, the shower is lukewarm. I turn it on and off again, but I’ve found that troubleshooting plumbing the same way as electronics doesn’t have the same success rate.

The water is still barely warm.

Did James use that much hot water when he bathed me? No, I would be warm by now if he did. I turn off the shower. I’m even colder now that I’m wet.

I dry off again, shivering, and hear James come back with my clothes. He knocks on the bathroom door.

“I’ll leave your suitcase here.”

“Thanks!” I shout. I wait for James to be gone again, and then I pull my suitcase into the bathroom and look for my warmest clothes. I packed for Egypt, unfortunately. The heaviest thing I have is a thin, heather gray sweatshirt.

I pull it on along with some sweatpants and hug my arms against my chest. I’m not going to get warm in this stone bathroom.

I go out to the kitchen. James has his laptop set up and is writing on paper.

“Hey.” I jut a thumb over my shoulder. “What room am I staying in?”

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