15. NINEAH
NINEAH
AbrAHAM NEVER CAME BACK.
In two days, Dr. Kaz had checked in on me three times.
Once to confirm that I’d sustained a moderate traumatic brain injury as well two bruised ribs and multiple contusions, but thankfully no broken bones, then twice more to monitor my concussion symptoms and give me updates.
Her working theory was that I’d either taken a hard fall or sustained injuries in a vehicular accident of some kind.
However, pending my continued improvement, she’d been adamant I could discharge as early as tomorrow, though she’d explicitly warned against flying for at least seventy two more hours.
The translator I was supposed to have had been called away for a family emergency, so I still had yet to communicate with anyone but my doctor, but a couple of the nurses who’d used their phones to communicate with me had warned me of the police officers hanging around, likely wanting to interview me about the mysterious accident that’d led to my rescue.
However, since Abraham had arrived, I hadn’t spoken to anyone who wasn’t Dr. Kaz or my nurses.
I wasn’t surprised that my presence in Europe had aroused suspicion.
The only way into Lithuania from DC was via commercial flight or private jet, and since I had the feeling my name wouldn’t be found on any flight manifests, there was likely going to be an investigation.
However, call it intuition or experience, without witness testimony or evidence of a crime, part of me knew their local law enforcement wouldn’t find much.
I was already itching to get to my laptop—wherever it was—and start piecing together a timeline leading up to the last several days.
I still had a few contacts who owed me favors if I hadn’t already cashed them in and if I uncovered how I’d been transported into the country, I might’ve been able to find out who was responsible.
Crossing continents technically made this a human trafficking case assuming I hadn’t traveled voluntarily, which meant I needed to reach out to my boss.
However, an unfamiliar hesitancy made me second guess my decision and that scared me.
Already, phantom emotions and conflicting feelings I didn’t understand had me questioning my judgment.
Was the man waiting outside my door my ally?
Or part of the reason I was here in the first place?
And even if I could trust Abraham, there was still the matter of my safety.
I had training, but even I knew when I was out of my league and this was so fucking far over my head, I couldn’t see the horizon.
A sharp ache at my temples made me wince.
I was married.
Christ.
Once I’d begun to ruminate on it, I suddenly found it impossible to even think the word without also imagining Abraham and I as being marital, and I had so many questions, my skull pounded with them.
Like, when did this happen?
Why did this happen?
And how did either of us look at one another and go, yes, I’d like to try fucking that?
I supposed it wasn’t entirely far-fetched.
God knew my taste in men was vastly different than that in women.
So much so, that the angel goddesses I was used to rubbing myself off to would’ve screamed at the undiscovered species I…
also rubbed off to. But Abraham wasn’t just untouchable. He was unapproachable.
Men who had reputations staked on manipulating key players in terrorist pockets so thoroughly, they’d single handedly flipped the tide of entire missions were not the kind you trusted with your heart.
They were the kind who ate your heart without chewing and let it sit, fully intact, impacting their bowels until they finally shat you out.
I knew because twenty-year-old me had stupidly gotten involved with the zero-sugar version of one of those guys and he’d fucked with my head so thoroughly, I’d needed therapy just to start masturbating again.
So why was this need to see him so… pressing?
Was my body remembering something my brain had forgotten? Or was I just latching onto the most familiar face in a foreign place? I didn’t know the answer, but I knew I wasn’t going to get it by playing tug of war with my doubts in this hospital bed.
Bored of this hyperactive internal struggle, I kicked the sheets over to one side and disconnected my IV port. Since the doctor had removed my catheter, I could finally move without assistance and I was so grateful for that, I didn’t care if all of Klaipeda saw my ass.
Since my first trip to the bathroom on my own, I’d realized as long as I moved slowly, it wasn’t uncomfortable to walk, and so I took small, measured steps.
It was late now. Maybe midnight or so, and the hospital was quieter. I listened for footsteps, then checked to make sure the coast was clear before I ventured out into the hall.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to go far.
Expression blank, his locked gaze that of a man who’d officially engaged in shutdown protocol, Abraham Lawton sat in the same chair he’d apparently occupied since Dr. Kaz had let him in to see me, disturbingly still.
He must’ve been deep inside his thoughts because when I approached from his side and tapped on his shoulder, he jumped.
“Get back in bed.”
The command threw me. Not because I was used to men talking to me much at all outside of a work setting, but because I hadn’t been given an order since I was young, dumb, and enlisted.
Hesitating, my damp fingers clutching each other, I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. My brain still fuzzy from the drugs, it was hard to connect words into sentences and I’d already forgotten why I’d come over in the first place.
It took a few beats, but eventually, I found my voice again. “The nurses say you haven’t left since you got here.”
He didn’t respond.
He didn’t even look at me.
Rocking back and forth on my toes, I racked my brain for something to say that didn’t sound even slightly like pity or guilt. In the end, I did what I always did when I was uncomfortable—I kept talking.
“You should probably eat something. I once read somewhere that lions can eat up to one hundred ten pounds of meat in one sitting, and I’m pretty sure you’re like…” I pinched my fingers together. “Right up there. Though, maybe definitely add some fiber to that because you’re… not a lion.”
Nothing.
Damn, this man ran a strict program.
“Speaking of large animals with big appetites, we should probably address the elephant in the Lithuanian hospital hallway—We’re married.” I forced a smile. “We don’t have to make it weird, right?”
Abraham resumed that look. The one I understood well from eighteen years in foster care, thirteen of them in the brutal Baltimore public school system. Whatever patience he’d brought with him had officially expired and it was in my best interest to crawl back into my bed and shut the fuck up.
Except, I’d slept for three days straight, my drugs were good, and with a little bit of food in my system, I had the zoomies.
“Look,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I understand you and I swear this isn’t something I’m trying to make feel normal, because it is not fucking normal.
I am actively working hard to not like, fall the fuck apart.
But when you ignore me, it sort of makes that virtually impossible, so if for two seconds you could just pretend I’m someone you’d like enough to shake hands with, let alone make life altering medical decisions for, I’d really appreciate it. ”
Abraham finally turned to face me and my idiot brain flatlined.
Oh f—
Was he… crying?
Granted, it was hard to tell because when I cried, my face got all puffy, my eyes reddened, and my voice sounded like a window in desperate need of some WD-40, but Abraham cried like a statue. If there wasn’t an active sparkling wet stain on his left cheek, he’d look the exact same.
“Could you just… give me a minute.”
I was terrible with other peoples’ emotions.
Not only did I catch that shit like an infectious plague, I had no idea how to comfort anyone other than to help test the bounds of their insulin production.
Nodding like a bobble head, an uncomfortable mass blocking me from swallowing properly, I turned on my heels and scurried back into my room.
When the door shut firmly behind me, I exhaled in short-lived relief. Trudging back to the bed, I climbed back into it and reconnected the IV.
I didn’t know how long I’d laid awake in the dark, but it wasn’t until I was on the verge of unconsciousness that I thought I heard the door open.