"I'm so sorry," Lucas groaned. "I didn't know what else to do. You weren't waking up, and I panicked."
Despite myself, my lips curled in a slight smile. "It's fine," I told him quietly. "I'm glad you did it. That..." I swallowed. "That dream wasn't one I wanted to stay in."
He gave me a sad smile back, squeezing my hand. Only then did I realize that he was touching me, and I wasn't turning into a raving madwoman. Maybe Chase hadn't fucked me up as bad as I'd thought. Maybe I could find my way back to me after all.
"Well, now that you're awake," Lucas said with a slight cringe, "I should change that dressing on your shoulder. I might have bumped it a bit hard when I was trying to wake you up."
"Oh." I looked down at the shoulder in question. I was still wearing the plain, loose-fitting T-shirt I'd woken up in, and now that he mentioned it, the wound was aching. Nothing I couldn't handle, though. Hopefully, that meant it was healing. "Actually... I need to shower. Can I do that first?" I should have done it while Maria was here to help, but I'd been so fucking tired and so tightly wound up to maintain my composure. There was no way I could have held on to that façade long enough to get through a shower.
"Absolutely, yes," Lucas agreed. "Cass, can you get the water running?"
The big guy silently did as he was asked while Lucas released my hand and disconnected the IV line from my cannula. Working quickly and confidently, Lucas applied plastic shower shields over my cannula site and all my wounds. He wasn't taking any chances with further infection from them getting wet and soapy. Smart.
"Do you need help?" he offered hesitantly when he was done and I struggled to get up. Groaning, I held my ribs. Doc hadn't been able to do anything for them except offer painkillers. Which, knowing how many drugs my body had processed lately, I was reluctant to take.
"No," I grunted. "I'm fine."
I wasn't fine.
Lucas knew it, too, because despite what I said, I leaned into him when he put an arm out for support. My feet were purple with bruising, and just walking across the carpet to the bathroom felt like I was walking on broken glass. But eventually I made it, and Lucas set me down on the closed toilet.
Cass had his hand under the water, testing the temperature, but when he saw me sitting there, he scowled once more. No doubt I looked like something the cat had dragged in. Then shit on.
"Back in a minute," he muttered, leaving the bathroom and leaving me alone with Lucas.
I blinked a couple of times after Cass, then looked at Lucas. "I've got it from here."
He bit the side of his lip, giving me a look that said he didn't believe I really did have it. I needed to regain some of my mental fortitude, though. I needed to stand on my own two feet, even if that was metaphorically and not physically.
"Please, Lucas," I whispered. "I need a minute. I'll stay sitting."
His frown dipped low, his eyes searching my face. Then he sighed and ruffled his fingers through his hair. "Okay. I'll wait outside. If you need me, just yell. Please don't try getting in the shower alone, though. If you fall, Cass will skin me alive"
I assured him I would behave, then just sat there for a moment in silence after he'd gone. Cass had said he'd be back in a minute, which implied he was fetching something. But when he didn't return, I figured I needed to get on with things.
My ribs ached as I carefully tried to pull my T-shirt off, but my shoulder wasn't messing around. The moment I tried to lift my arm to take the garment off normally, sharp, hot agony lanced through me. I cried out before I could stop myself, and the door immediately popped open.
Cass was right there in the doorway with a stool in his hands and a panicked look on his face.
"What happened?" he demanded, his eyes sweeping the bathroom like he was searching for an attacker.
I rolled my eyes. "Nothing fucking happened," I muttered. "I just got stuck."
His brow dipped low, and his piercing gaze ran over me. I had one arm out of the T-shirt but the other was still trapped in the sleeve. How the hell had Lucas just accessed my wound to apply that shower guard? Oh wait, he'd pulled the loose neckline down.
Cass moved past me, placed the stool inside the shower for me, then reached for the hem of my shirt. I flinched back and slapped his hands away harder than necessary.
He froze, scowling. "Red, you need help."
"Fuck off," I growled. "I can do it myself."
One of his brows twitched with something bordering on amusement, and it just pissed me off. Vaguely I acknowledged the fact that I wasn't afraid of him. His huge, strong frame didn't shoot fear through me. No part of me thought he would hurt me in any way, but... my body just didn't want to be touched.
"You're being an asshole, Red," he drawled, crouching down in front of me but not trying to force the situation. "You need help, and you damn well know it."
My temper flared, but better that than to be a cowering mess. "I'm being an asshole?" I hissed back at him. "You're being an asshole. I'm not a fucking invalid; I can get myself undressed just fine."
Cass glared hard, then shifted his gaze to Lucas, who hovered in the doorway. Seeking backup, no doubt.
Lucas just shrugged back at him. "If she doesn't want your help, that's her choice."
The wave of frustrated anger that rolled through Cass was obvious as he squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes at Lucas. "You can't be serious," he rumbled. "She's been in that sick fuck's hands, beaten, tortured, stabbed, drugged, starved, and fuck knows what else, for twelve goddamn days, Lucas." He shifted his furious glare back to me. "You are an invalid, Red. Suck it the fuck up and accept some help."
My mouth had dropped open in surprise, though, as I processed his words.
"Twelve days?" I croaked, feeling my stomach clench and twist with nausea.
Cass's eyes softened in a flash, all traces of frustration gone and replaced with sympathy. I hated it.
Lucas was the one who answered me, though, his voice soft as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Twelve days, four hours, and fifteen minutes. That's how long he had you."
I blinked up at him in shock. "It felt like longer," I finally whispered.
"It was twelve days, four hours, and fifteen fucking minutes too long," Cass growled. His hand was balled into a fist as his side, and I could see the violence etched across his whole body. Without a doubt, he would hunt Chase down and kill him with his bare hands if they found out even a fraction of the details.
Which was why I would tell them nothing. I had my own revenge plot already in the works, and I refused to be cheated out of that.
"We know you're not an invalid, Hayden," Lucas soothed, shooting Cass a warning glare. "But you are hurt. Let us help you. Please?"
I gritted my teeth and shook my head.
Cass blew out a frustrated breath, pushing back up to his feet. "You're so goddamn stubborn," he snapped.
"Screw you, Saint," I snarled back. "I just need space. Help me get this arm out of my T-shirt, then back the fuck off."
I could practically hear his teeth grinding together from where I sat on the toilet lid, but after a breath he sank back to his knees and gently reached for my T-shirt once more.