Page 73 of Faithful

To my horror, I realize my baseball cap is gone. So much for staying unrecognized now. “Is he okay?” I ask as the world around me continues to collapse.

Bodhi makes a strange sound that’s part growl, part English language. Wow, he really lives up to his nickname.

“Is he okay?” I demand, feeling the spike of my pulse all the way in my fucking toes.

“I have a paramedic checking him out rig–”

Paramedic?“I need to see him.”

“Not a good idea.”

“I need to see him. Now. Take me.”

I don’t even know if Kai wants to see me, but I know I want to see him so bad, it physically hurts.

Bodhi’s face visibly deflates. He grabs my elbow and gives me a little nudge forward. “Keep up and keep your head down.”

We walk down the corridor, and then he motions for me to wait near a stack of empty road cases. “Don’t move. Don’t talk to anyone. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Bodhi disappears behind one of the doors farther down and comes out a couple of minutes later with a uniformed man who I presume is the aforementioned paramedic. He then proceeds to shoo away everyone standing there. Once the corridor is somewhat empty, he takes me inside.

The dressing room is brightly lit with a huge makeup station and a table filled with refreshments. There are flower arrangements too, a couple of chairs, a flat-screen TV, and a couch.

Kai is on that couch. He’s poised on the edge of it with his elbows resting atop his knees. His coat is off, hair messy and falling across his face, gaze on the floor.

“Are you okay?” I ask as the door behind me shuts.

Now it’s just us two here and the faint scent of sweat, rubbing alcohol, and sanitizer.

Kai looks up from whatever it is he was staring at when I walked in, and his austere expression cracks a little when our eyes meet. He doesn’t speak, however.

I cross the room and drop into a crouch in front of him, my hands reaching out to move his hair away so I can see him better.

“Fuck.” I breathe out, spotting a set of bright red marks on the side of his neck. A ball of anger begins to form in the pit of my stomach. Someone actually dared to fucking touch him.

“It’s okay,” Kai rasps out, carefully drawing my hand away from the injuries.

“No, it’s not fucking okay,” I say, seething. “You hurt anywhere else?”

“Seriously.” He palms my face. Holds it tight so our gazes are level. “This shit happens. Someone grabbed me. So what? I’m fine. Will you drop it now?”

A strange emotion–a blend of relief and dread–swirls through my gut.

This person in front of me sounds like Kai and looks like Kai, but he’s not Kai. The Kai I know wouldn’t be this calm after what happened.

His body is off-limits and those limits were tested tonight.

“I just…” My heart continues to hammer in my chest because I want to reassure him things are going to be okay, but I’m not certain if that’s true, if I can make such a promise and then keep it.Why am I even thinking this shit?“I was fucking worried, alright…”

Kai studies me for what seems like a very long time, his head tilted to the side slightly, his eyeliner smeared, his hair damp and tangled. Eventually, the corners of his mouth tilt up. He’s smiling all of a sudden, his hands still on my cheeks.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“Remember that one time at Tribeca when you tried to kill me?”

“You had to remind me now?”

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