Page 11 of Possession

I don’t know if he’s testing me or what, but when I don’t do anything, he takes his hand back with a grunt.

“You should get back in bed,” I tell him.

He grunts again, but I don’t know what it means. He just stays where he is, looking at me. I realize he probably has no idea why I’m here.

“I’m, um, supposed to … take care of you.”

He huffs again, and I wonder if he can’t speak. Or maybe he doesn’t understand me? He could be deaf, or maybe not an English speaker.

“Lucas,” I say again, putting a hand on my chest to make my meaning clear.

He exhales loudly through his nose like he’s annoyed. By my name? Or because I repeated it like he doesn’t understand?

It seems like he can actually hear, but I’m still not sure if he understands me.

“I’m here to take care of you,” I tell him again, testing the waters.

It’s weird to think that that’s the situation, but it is. That doesn’t mean he couldn’t kill me if he wanted to. Briggs said he would.

But at my statement, the fighter grunts again and moves to stand. He only makes it partway up before he falls on his ass. I launch away from the wall to catch the IV pole as it tips. I steady it then skitter back when he snarls at me.

He tries again to get up, but it’s even harder now that he’s on his ass. I’m sure he’s in pain, but he looks unsteady too. He’s probably still feeling the effects of whatever drug Briggs injected him with.

“Here,” I say as I get on all fours. “Use me.”

I’m surprised at myself. I’m not usually forward. I hang back so other people don’t tell me to get back. The only place I ever felt confident was on the wrestling mat. With the rules and structure, I could tap into a part of myself that doesn’t otherwise exist.

Outside of that space, I’m not someone to assert myself. But here I am, asserting myself with someone extremely dangerous.

He stills. I don’t look at him. Partly because he’s scary as fuck but also because I think he’ll be more likely to accept help without my eyes on him.

Maybe that’s why I’m putting myself forward. Hedoesneed help.

Of course, that doesn’t mean he can’t hurt me. It doesn’t mean that he won’t.

He rolls toward me. My skin tightens with goosebumps. Fuck, he’s so close. Oh my god, he really could kill me. Is he going to? Or hit me? Throw me?

His hand plants on my back. I sag momentarily with relief then brace as he starts levering himself up. His hip is close to me. His face is close. I can hear his little grunts of effort. I can feel him trembling. I’m trembling too because he weighs a fucking ton.

As his weight starts to lift, I get up. He tries to draw away but I follow him, and he finally puts his hand on my shoulder. His other grips the rolling IV pole. He’s unsteady as we make our way back to the mattress. When we get there, he tries to go down slowly, but he pretty much falls. I catch the IV pole again. As I maneuver it around to the head of the bed, he gets himself laid out.

I can see him better now that neither of us is blocking the light. His breathing is shallow. His muscled abdomen is contracted. He’s clearly in pain. I can see it in his face. Blood has seeped through some of his bandages.

I go to grab the first aid kit. When I kneel beside the mattress, he freezes. I belatedly realize that’s a bad sign, but I’m already there, already too close.

“I just want to—”

He lurches up and shoves me so hard that I fly backward and go sprawling on the concrete floor.

“Ow!” I shout as I gather myself up, rubbing my painful elbow. “I was just trying to help you.”

Lips drawn back from his teeth, he growls at me like an animal.

“Fine,” I tell him as I withdraw to where I was sitting before. “If that’s what you want.”

He grunts in what I take for satisfaction and settles on the mattress. He pulls the blanket partway over himself, though it’s mostly trapped under his ass. I am not, however, going near him again to help. He clearly doesn’t want me to.

I don’t know how long I stay in my spot because I have no sense of time in here, but after a while, I get up. I use the bathroom by feel because very little light trickles in from outside. My fumbling locates a bar of soap at the sink.

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