Page 28 of Conner's Luna

"Conner?" she looks at me in shock. "My shoulder-"

I snap it back into place faster than she can register the movement. Her scream echoes in my ears, magnified three times over by the matching howl of my wolf. He tears at the ground, rips at his own fur, gnashing his teeth on his paws until they bleed as he writhes in torment.

I grab Bailey to me, letting her backpack and MacBook crash to the floor. She cries, burrowing into my shirt. "What happened?" she asks me.

"Dislocated shoulder," I murmur hoarsely through my own agony. How could I hurt her? An alpha shouldneverlose control like that. Never.

"Oh, God. It hurts so bad," she whispers. Shivers wrack her frame, each one sending ripples of shame down my spine.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so fucking sorry." I rock her gently, ignoring my wolf as he flips his shit. "Bailey, I'm sorry," I stroke her hair, her back, whispering her name again and again until she stops crying. Slowly, her sobs die down into sniffles.

When she peels herself off of me I feel the loss of her in my arms keenly. She's still pale and trembling, but she's not in acute pain now that I set her shoulder.

"We need to go get some ice for your shoulder, Bails. Come with me?" I'm begging. Fear is stealing my breath. I'm supposed to be protecting her, not hurting her more. Fuck me with a shovel. I suck.

"Is it swollen?" she sniffles.

"A little," I tell her. I can't see it very well in the sweatshirt she's swimming in. I can't even tell if I set it correctly, but I felt the joint shift and pop back into place.Fuck.

She nods, an odd expression crossing her face. "It's unusual for someone's shoulder to dislocate so easily." She swallows and seems to steady herself.

I wince. "I-"

"You squeezed my shoulder so hard, but the strength in your fingers can't dislocate my shoulder. That would only be true if I had some sort of condition, like early-onset osteoporosis. I.. I-"

"Shh, Bailey. I'm strong. You're not sick. I wasn't paying attention. Let's go, baby. Let's go get some ice."

She lets me wrap my arm around her waist, as delicately as if she were the most fragile piece of glass, and steer her away from the classroom. We have an audience of a few shocked-looking students, but no one is interfering.

Lydia is gone.

I shake it off. It's not important right now. I have to take care of Bailey because I'm a piece-of-shit asshole who hurt her.

"It's just... what if I have a metabolic bone disease? Osteomalacia? No, I would have been diagnosed already. Maybe it's a mineral deficiency? Obviously, I have some sort of disorder."

She keeps babbling as I walk her out to the truck. I nearly end up carrying her and I do lift her into the truck. She's tired as adrenaline leaves her body, and her shoulder is still hurting her.

"You sound like WebMD," I tell her.

She sniffles and meets my eyes. Her eyelashes flutter madly as she tries to stem her tears, fighting them off with all she has. She's so brave that I can't help but smile at her until I remember just why she's crying.

"I'm so sorry, baby."

"You didn't mean to hurt me," she says.

"Never," I agree vehemently. I buckle her in and sprint around to the driver's seat. Starting the car I floor it out of the parking lot

Bailey is quiet for a moment as she leans her head against the seat and looks at me. "I would claim a stress fracture, but I don't do anything remotely strenuous."

I choke out a half-sob, half-laugh. "You were writing notes awfully fast," I tease her.

She smiles, her eyes drifting closed. "I hate pain. I just want you to know," she mumbles. "I am not a masochist. I would never, ever date Christian Grey. That's dumb."

I really hope I didn't break the genius "You're anything but dumb, Bailey."

"Mmhm. I think I may be in shock."

I glance at her sharply. She is pale, but not shaking violently or too white. "I think you're fine, honey-girl." My stomach is cramping in warning. I curse and tighten my fingers on the steering wheel. I have to get Bailey home and take care of her. Fuck.

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