I walk in on Whisper hobbling back from a trip to the bathroom and drop the food tray hurriedly, with a clunk on a set of drawers and stop her from taking another step.
I understand she needs to do things for herself, but not if it’s gonna give her pain. From the small puffing noises she’s making, she’s in pain.
“Babe, you gotta stay off those feet if you want them to heal faster.” The frown on her face tells me she’s still hurting enough to require painkillers. Fuck’s sake, she was nailed through her feet, but she still wants her independence, even if it causes her pain.
“I was busting to go and it was hobble or wet the bed. I chose hobbling,” she says.
“Sorry babe, but I’m pulling medical rank and siding with your feet on this one.” I scoop her up, even though she’s just about made it to the bed. Any excuse is a good excuse to hold her.
I’m placing her down on the covers before she’s got a chance to protest. My hands are planted either side of her on the bed, my face inches from hers. “I would’ve helped if you’d just called.” I’m testing the waters.
“That’s okay, I managed.” I know I was being more forward than I should have been, with letting her know I would help her with something so personal, but I’m trying to slow down and take each minute as it happens at her pace. “You were busy with Miss Catherine. I haven’t had any privacy for such a long time, when it comes to a toilet break… I need that,” she says, her big browns burrowing into me. Making me feel like an ass for not thinking about what she’s been through. The simple things we all take for granted have been stolen from her.
I walk over and get the food and water giving her enough time to get herself settled.
“Miss Catherine thought the cereal and apple would be better for your morning sickness as a meal and if you feel okay after that, you can have something else.” I put the bowl on the bed next to her slender thigh and the apple beside it. She’s chosen to stay seated on top of the bed coverings.
“The crackers are for the morning.” I place the packet on the bedside table and undo the bottle of water for her. “Apparently if you nibble on those”—I point to the crackers—“when you wake-up, it should help, or when you’re feeling hungry for a snack.”
“Thank you, Edge. Would you like anything?”
And there’s that sweet again.
I hold my hand up. “Nope, all yours babe, Miss C already fed and watered me.” This brings a smile to her face.
So fucking sweet.
“I’ve missed Miss Catherine so much. Thank you for bringing her to me. I’m sure I’m going to be shocked by the story she has still to tell me about her adventures with her friend.”
I rub the back of my neck with one hand, a habit of mine when I want to relieve the mental strain.
“Miss Catherine and her friend, Pearllene, got into a bit of trouble.” I rub the back of my neck a little harder and longer. “Let’s just say it all ended well enough.” And I leave it at that, because I don’t want her to know I tortured and killed someone.
I sit down next to her on the bed, positioning my back up against the headboard, my legs out straight.
Her eyes have drifted to my foot. “How does your foot feel? I heard you were shot there.”
“It’s good, nothing for you to worry about. It’s a pain in the ass wearing the moon boot, but Doc wants me to keep it on, so I do. Gotta wear it a few more weeks and then I should be as good as new. How are your hands and feet?”
“Okay… a little sore, but I’m used to being in pain, so I don’t complain.” She’s so matter of fact. It really bothers me.
“Damn!” she mutters to herself. I haven’t noticed how she’s struggling to hold the spoon, until she drops it and cereal flakes fall onto the bed coverings.
“I got this.” I ignore the mess, choosing to feed her first.
She leans forward without making eye contact and takes the spoonful offered, crunching away until it’s all gone. “Thank you.”
Rinse and repeat until she’s eaten the whole lot and I’ve cleaned up, removed the bowl and spoon and swapped them out for the apple.
I sit up and face her holding it to her soft lips. She won’t look at me, but she takes a small bite. She’s hungry, but this is a lot more intimate. The loud crunch and my beating heart are the only noises I can hear in the room as I watch the juice from the bite dribble down her chin. Her tongue glides over her bottom lip as she tries to clean up the moisture.
She lifts her bandaged hand, ready to wipe any residual from her chin, but I get there first. I use my free hand to hold her chin in place as I swipe the sticky wetness away with my thumb.
Her skin turns sixty shades of red.
She finishes chewing and swallows, staring anywhere, but at me. I offer the apple to her lips again. She takes a bite making sure no juice slips free this time.
“Do you remember anything of that night?” I know I should leave the white elephant in the room alone, but I need to know where her head is at. She’s having nightmares and talking can sometimes help.
She looks up at me, her big browns round and sad. “No I don’t. I was told you found me and protected me. You kept me warm and made sure Jenny stayed with me the whole time. That means a lot to me. I know we have a lot to talk through, but I need you to allow me space to breathe until Christmas is over. I want this to be a good time for Miss Catherine, because she hasn’t had a good Christmas with family, pretty much ever. I do want to talk to you, but just not now. It would mean a lot to me if we could just pretend for now that my life hasn’t been hell. Can you do that for me? I want to go to the toilet by myself…even if I have to hobble.”
Jesus!
“I don’t want to be confined to this room. I want Boxer to be happy. I want to decorate the other trees before Christmas. I want to visit a shop and look in the window. This is all I want for my first Christmas. I want to be me and not some scared girl. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”
I drop my head, silently shouting a thousand curses.
I slide my hand around the back of her neck, moving my fingers up into her hair and gently massage the back of her head. “Babe, whatever you need.”
“It’s what I need to breathe.” Well, fuck! I need her to breathe too.
“Do you want some more apple?” My inner caveman feels very content to be the one to feed her.
She shakes her head and pats her flat belly softly. “I’m good thank you. What time is it?” she adds on.
I check my phone to find I have a message from Hazard, fifteen minutes ago, telling me to come outside with Whisper. “It’s 7:13 p.m. Why?”
“I haven’t seen Boxer and Dr. Castille for a long time,” she says looking sideways at me when she mentions Boxer’s name.
“They’ll be up soon enough. Phoenix and the guys have got a surprise outside if you would like me to carry you down and you can take a look?”
Her face lights up with interest. “I would love it.”
I call Hazard. He answers on the first ring. “We’re on our way.” I disconnect.
“I just need some warmer clothes.”
“I got you.” I rummage through the bag of things we brought with us, finding a thick scarf and knitted beanie and yank them out. Looking through another bag I find a thick, woollen jumper. I know the winter coat will be hanging in the mudroom. “Ghost has to have big feet,” I mutter to myself.
I invade his privacy and find a sock drawer full of thick black socks—no surprises there. I yank out two pairs, unfolding them. They are indeed ready to fit mega big feet. “Ghost’s socks should fit over your bandages, but you won’t be outside for long.” My decision is made. She’s pregnant and has spent enough time cold. “First sign of your teeth chattering and I’m bringing you inside. Is that a deal, babe?”
“Edge, I’ve survived a lot worse than cold hands and feet.”
And don’t I hate knowing she had to survive worse.
I hand her the clothing. “Yes or no, is it a deal,” I repeat in a non threatening voice.
On a little huff she waves the white flag. “Yes, I will agree.”
“Before we go anywhere, I’ll just find a blanket, I’ll be right back.”
I look in one of the bedrooms close by and find a folded up woollen blanket. This will have to do. It’s thick and would fit a queen-size bed.
I arrive back in Ghost’s room. Whisper’s already wearing the beanie, scarf and knitted sweater, which hits her mid thigh. She’s struggling to put a sock over one of her bandaged hands.
I drop everything I am carrying onto the bed and kneel down in front of her.
“Let me do that for you.” I’ve got both hands mittened up and her feet covered in no time. I was as gentle as I could be, but I still heard the noises of pain she was trying to muffle.
I hand her the folded blanket to hold and scoop her up.
We make it as far as turning towards the stairs, before we’re confronted by a man with a scowl carved into his face, and a low animalistic growl building, with Doc standing beside him. They have come from the other side of this floor.
“Hey, Boxer,” I say in my most cheery don’t-give-a-fuck-you-don’t-like-me voice. “Hey, Doc! I would wave, but my hands are full.”
I guess it’s time to get all warm and fuzzy with the grizzly bear.