Page 142 of Steel

Ain’t no one’s business but mine and my woman’s.

“Came to help you wash up,” he finally says.

“Joy,” I grumble, sliding my legs around to the edge of the mattress.

“You don’t have anything I ain’t got.”

“Mine’s bigger and prettier. Hate to make you jealous.”

His eyes widen, unused to me making jokes, before he breaks out into a chuckle. “I’m sure I’ll live,” he replies, sliding his shoulder under my arm.

Jordan guides me to the bathroom, leaning me against the counter of the sink so that he can get the water going for me.

Fucking hate being so goddamn helpless, but there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to lean over and turn it on.

Once he has the water set, Jordan turns back to me. “You need help getting undressed?”

I grind my jaw, the pain shooting up my face and behind my eyes. “No. Can undress myself. Just need you in case my fuckin’ body decides to give out.”

“Gotcha.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’ll just stand over here while you shower.”

“Grab me some clothes, would you?”

“Sure thing. Yell out if you need me.”

It takes me a while to get my briefs off, but I manage it. The short distance to the shower is fucking painful. Sharp stabs of agony spear through different parts of my body. It’s as if someone is taking a hot poker and holding it to me.

The shower takes longer than it normally would because every move I make has fire licking along my skin.

Thankfully, Jordan set my clothes on the counter so I ain’t got to walk in there with my balls swinging.

Not that I’d give a shit normally, but ever since that shit with Heather, I’ve felt fucked-up about being naked around anyone other than my Hummingbird.

It’s a workout on its own getting those clothes on, and I’m fucking exhausted and ready to sleep by the time I do.

As much as I probably need the help, I refuse to be weak enough to call for it.

I need to prove to myself that I’m not. That I can handle getting my ass beat and still do what needs to be done.

Using the walls to hold my weight, I stagger out of the bathroom and into my room. Jordan is propped up against the wall and comes to attention when he sees me stepping out. He starts my way, but I wave a hand at him.

I let out a groan when I finally make it to the bed and slither into it.

“Kiwi left some more meds on your nightstand. She said you can have another before you go to bed but not to take any more for at least four to six hours if you can help it,” Jordan explains, nodding to the bottle of water and little cup of white pills.

“Thanks,” I say, shaking two out into my palm and popping them into my mouth.

“Do you need me for anything?”

I grab my phone and shake my head. “No. Lock the door behind you.”

He doesn’t say anything else, which is just as well since my attention is tuned into getting hold of my woman.

“Steel?” Bailee answers. “Are you okay?”

Her voice is anxious, relaying her concern for me.

“Fine, baby girl.”

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