Page 5 of Chasing Secrets

It did.

The sight that greeted me would haunt me forever.

Theo was crouched in the corner where the tub met the wall. His right side was against the tub while his forehead was pressed against the wall. His legs were tucked up against his body so that he was basically seated in the fetal position. I couldn’t see his face but there was no missing the little drops of blood on the edge of the vanity as well as the tiled floor.

“Theo,” I repeated as my brain switched over to nurse mode. Fear curled in my belly in the few seconds it took to reach him. I dropped to the floor next to him and touched his shoulder. He instantly jerked away from me.

“I’m fine,” he whispered even as the sobs continued to rack his body. He used his left arm to wipe at his face. “I tripped,” he added as he struggled to climb to his feet.

“Stay seated,” I said, once again putting my hand on his shoulder. This time when he tried to pull away, I followed. “Did you hit your head when you fell?” I asked as I studied the parts of his body Icouldsee. He was wearing an oversized sweatshirt that nearly reached his knees. I couldn’t tell if he was wearing shorts or underwear, though.

“I’m fine,” Theo snapped. “Please… please go.”

Despite the determination in his voice, he didn’t make another attempt to stand. He was sweating profusely even as chills racked his slim frame. Surprisingly, Theo didn’t protest when I put my palm on his forehead.

“You’re burning up,” I said.

Theo didn’t respond to the statement.

“Where’s the blood coming from, Theo?” I asked as I reached for his wrist so I could check his pulse. I glanced at his arm to see if there was any blood on the sleeve, but the material was normal. I automatically looked at his other arm, but he had it pressed between his body and the wall.

Deliberately putting it out of view.

As badly as I wanted to force him to show me the arm, I knew it would only do more harm than good, so I went a different route.

“Did you eat today?”

I hadn’t seen Theo at dinner, but I’d seen Ford taking some food upstairs for him. That didn’t mean he’d eaten it, though.

“What about water?” I asked when Theo didn’t answer about having eaten or not.

He didn’t answer the water question either.

I sighed and said, “Theo, you’re severely dehydrated, your pulse is well above the normal rate, and you’re running a fever. You need to go to the hospital—”

“No,” Theo interrupted. “No hospitals.”

“Sweetheart, you’re sick—”

“No!” Theo repeated as he struggled to get to his feet. I was mentally reprimanding myself for the very inappropriate endearment I’d used but luckily my instincts were still working because I managed to grab Theo as his knees gave out. His unsteadiness caused him to bump his right arm against the wall. He let out a harsh sob and leaned his weight into me. I put my arm around his waist to steady him and just held him as whatever pain he was feeling from jarring his arm ran its course.

“I’ve got you,” I murmured. Theo’s body fit perfectly against mine and I couldn’t help but press a kiss to the top of his head. “It’ll be better soon,” I whispered.

His response was spoken so softly I almost missed it. As I processed his words, I kind of wished Ihadmissed them.

No, it won’t.

It was in that moment that something shifted inside of me. Yes, the nurse was still there, but he took a back seat in those brief seconds as I gathered Theo in my arms and did the opposite of what all of my training would normally be directing me to do. Instead of leaving Theo sitting there on the cold tile floor and assessing all of his injuries as I called for an ambulance, I tucked him against my chest, doing my best not to jar his injured arm.

Climbing to my feet with Theo in my arms was way too easy. The young man weighed next to nothing. He felt as light and frail as so many of the hospice patients I’d cared for did.

That scared me.

Badly.

“Can you put your good arm around me?” I asked though it wasn’t really necessary since I wasn’t having any trouble keeping Theo balanced in my arms. It was more to know he still had enough strength to do it.

And yeah, okay, maybe I needed his touch a little bit too. Maybe I needed the reminder that he wasn’t one of my typical patients. Maybe I needed the reassurance that life was still flowing through his veins.

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