Page 11 of Branded
“Do you need a doctor?” he asked quietly.
My eyes remained closed, and I slowly shook my head. “No.” It was raspy. Garbled. But a sound that was a word. And that helped me take a breath in, to let it out. Free my lungs, my throat, my tongue. “No,” I said again. “I’m fine.”
A pause.
But though my lids were firmly shut, I knew he hadn’t gone. Not when I could feel him.
On my skin, his now-quiet presence prickling along my nerve endings.
In my stomach, swirling and tightening.
“Will you look at me?” he asked softly.
Fuck.
“No,” I whispered
More quiet.
Then a breath.
Then, “I’m going to back away,” he said, “and I know you want me to leave you alone, and I will, but I’m going to make sure you can move okay first and aren’t going to pass out.”
My tongue pressed hard to the roof of my mouth.
“All right?”
No.
Not all right.
But also, my tongue wasn’t working and that was all I had and?—
Right.
I needed to get out of this.
So…I nodded.
My eyes stayed closed as I felt his presence lessen, the heat that surrounded him, that was disconcerting me so intensely, cooled slightly as he backed away.
But my feet didn’t move, and my eyes didn’t open and?—
“Go on, Kay.”
Right.
I dropped my chin to my chest, forced my eyes to open, blinking against the bright lights of the hall until the pale gray of my shoelaces came into focus.
Then I tilted my head up—avoiding the big man altogether, though I did get a glimpse of a wide expanse of ugly plaid—before turning and moving down the hall.
It hurt, but I did my best to pretend it didn’t, to move normally and smoothly.
I had the feeling he knew it hurt anyway.
Five
Smitty
