CHAPTER TEN
“You don’t have to stay overnight,” I assured him.
“I’m doing it anyway.” His tone was no nonsense. “Whoever cast the hex you’re caught up in is not playing around, Kate.”
With a nod, I pushed myself back from the table and stood—then regretted my sudden movement almost instantly. My ribs were screaming.
Dex was by my side immediately. “What do you need?” he asked as I swore under my breath.
I couldn’t answer him for a moment. Once I finally got my breath back I said very carefully, “I am going to need your help. Can you cut this T-shirt off my back? Because there’s no way I’m lifting my arms over my head or working them through the sleeves.”
“Where are your scissors?” he asked.
I directed him to the correct kitchen drawer and made my way back to my bedroom area. Once I was there, I sat on the end of my bed, and he moved around behind me. “Don’t cut the sports bra,” I warned him.
Dex gently brushed my curls away from the neckline, pulled the shirt out and away from my skin and began to cut down the back. In seconds he had snipped through it. Then he walked around to the other side to pull it forward and down over my arms, one sleeve at a time.
“Damn it, Kate,” he said softly. “Your entire right side is solid bruises from your armpit to your waist!”
Lifting my right arm a bit, I peered down at my side. “No wonder it hurts so much.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Dex scowled. “I’m getting you undressed and putting you to bed, right now.”
“Who says romance is dead?” I snarked as he knelt in front of me to untie my shoes
His lips twitched, but he quickly slipped the sneakers off and tugged the socks free. He stood and helped me to stand. “Up you go. Let’s get your leggings off.”
“What every woman wants to hear.”
“You’re extra sassy tonight,” he said, gripping my waistband to gently peel the leggings down.
“Sorry.” I braced my hand on his back as he bent over to work them down over my calves.
“No need to apologize, Kate,” he said, straightening. “Do you want to try and put on some pajamas?”
“I’ve got some pajama shorts in the top dresser drawer,” I said pointing. “They’re pink.”
With a nod, Dex reached over and pulled the drawer open. He found the pajama bottoms and helped me step into them. He tugged them up and then immediately pulled the bed back for me—like a perfect gentleman. “In you get.”
“I don’t want to lie flat,” I said as I climbed in. “There’s a wedge pillow in my closet.”
Dex fetched the big pillow and helped me get settled. “I’m going to make you an ice pack,” he said. He went to the kitchen, and I heard him rummaging around. When he came back he was carrying a freezer bag full of ice and a clean kitchen towel.
Deftly he draped the towel over my bruises and laid the icepack on top of that. He folded a pillow in half to help hold the ice pack in place, since my opposite arm was bandaged.
“Where is your ibuprofen?” he asked.
“Bathroom cabinet,” I said, trying to get comfortable.
He nodded and was back again with a glass of water and the pills.
Accepting them gratefully, I said, “Thanks Dex, for being here and helping me.”
“No place I’d rather be.”
Dex did stay the night after all, but not in a romantic sort of way.
We ended up propped up in my bed side by side, with me under the covers and him on top of them, watching a movie on a streaming service.
Somewhere close to the end of the movie I fell asleep, and when I awoke it was a bit after three o’clock in the morning.
I jolted awake from a nightmare—something stupid about spiders—and was surprised to discover that I was snugged up beside Dex with my head on his shoulder.
It was different waking up with him. Gazing up at his handsome face while he slept, I had a moment to wonder how different things would be for us now if he had stayed with me instead of taking off to avoid his relatives and their drama back in October.
In the quiet before dawn, it hit me that I was already halfway in love with Dex.
It was more than his looks. It was the quiet steady way he’d helped, that he hadn’t put any pressure on me to pick back up the physical side of things.
On the contrary he’d been damn near gallant.
He’d simply been there, stable, supportive and strong, for whatever I’d needed.
Feeling safe, I closed my eyes, burrowed closer to his side, and eventually fell back to sleep.
Of course, I was twice as sore when I got up a few hours later.
The day after an accident and all that… Peeling the sports bra off had been hell, but I managed it on my own.
The warm shower had helped soothe some of my aches and pains, however, it took twice as long to dry off as I expected.
I didn’t think about the bandages on my left arm until it was too late, and they were trashed after getting all wet in the shower. So, I had to peel those off too.
I look terrible, I realized seeing my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Not as bad as Hattie had in the ER but still, but my torso was very bruised. By the time I staggered out of the bathroom wrapped in a short sleeved robe, my mood was piss poor.
To my surprise I found Lorna in my room. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be out of town?”
“Dex texted me last night while you were sleeping,” she explained. “He filled me in on what happened, and I changed my plans. I told him I’d come over early and help you so he could go back to his place to shower and change.”
“Sounds like the two of you have it all figured out.”
“Yes, we do,” she said nicely, despite my sarcasm. “I volunteered to take the morning shift and keep an eye on you.”
I managed not to roll my eyes—barely. “I don’t need a babysitter, Lorna.”
“No, but you shouldn’t be alone after everything that’s happened either.”
I tightened the belt on my robe and jumped at the unexpected pain. “Damn it!” I hissed.
“Darlin’ you look rough,” she said.
“I’m pretty sore today,” I admitted, walking over to my dresser. Pulling open a drawer, I fished out a pair of underwear.
She reached for the lapel of my robe. “Let me see how bad the bruises are.”
“Lorna...” I eased out of reach. “While I appreciate the offer, would you at least let me put some underwear on first?”
Her lips twitched. “What, are you shy?”
I glared at her. “Not particularly.”
“Tell you what,” she said. “I saw the first aid kit out on your kitchen table. I’ll go fetch it and give you some privacy.” With that she left my bedroom area.
Getting my underwear on ended up being trickier than I thought. And Lorna had to end up helping me with my bra. She did so briskly and efficiently but was concerned when she saw how purple my right side was.
Lorna also carefully examined the deep scratch on my arm. “You’re definitely going to need help bandaging this back up,” she said, pointing at me. “It’s bleeding again.”
Glancing down I saw that she was right. So, I shut my mouth, sat on the end of my bed, and let her patch me up.
She put fresh antibiotic cream over the worst parts of the wound and some new gauze pads. Then she taped the whole business down with Self-Adherent wrap tape.
“Thank you,” I said after she finished. “I do appreciate you helping me this morn—”
“Kate!” Circe’s shout cut off the rest of my word.
“Here we go,” I muttered, before I called out, “I’m back here!”
“I called her this morning,” Lorna explained.
My apartment door slammed shut. “What the fuck, Kate!” Circe demanded. “Why didn’t you call me last night?” She stomped over to my bedroom, and as soon as my cousin caught sight of me, she went quiet. “Oh, Katie,” she said, in a completely different tone.
“Don’t you dare cry!” I said as I watched tears shimmer in her eyes. “If you cry, I’m gonna cry.”
A tear slid down my cousin’s cheek anyway. “Oh honey, I had no idea it was this bad.” Circe went straight to me and gave me a careful hug.
Lorna spoke before I could. “The scrape to her arm isn’t severe, but I’m sure it hurts. The bruises on her side will probably look worse before they start to look better.”
Circe released me, running her finger over the bandage that Lorna had wrapped my arm in. “This is a nice, neat job.”
“Happy to be of service.” Lorna gave her a salute.
“Hmmm,” Circe said. “I’m going to ask an off-the-wall question. Did Hattie break her right wrist or her left?”
“Her left,” I answered, caught off guard by the question.
Circe laid her hand on my arm. “And now you have also sustained an injury to your left arm.”
“Hell’s bells,” I whispered. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Circe’s eyes narrowed. “Whoever did this to you, and to Hattie...I’m going to go after them so hard.”
“First we have to figure out who is the culprit,” I reminded her. “You can’t start tossing around magick. It’ll only cause more chaos.”
“Quite right,” Lorna said. “I have put some feelers out into the community. A few practitioners that I trust to be discreet. While they may have different magick traditions...each one specializes in tracing magick back to its sender. I imagine we’ll have a short list of possible suspects by this evening. ”
“Good.” Circe nodded. “If anyone can find out, it’s our friendly neighborhood Magistra.”
“Honestly, ladies, I’ll admit that I’m not feeling particularly friendly after getting a close up look at our Kate’s injuries,” Lorna grumbled.
“So, I’m not the only one who wants to go medieval on the Witch that cast this hex?” Circe grinned at Lorna. “I knew I liked you.”
Despite myself, I chuckled at that.
“The truth is,” Lorna said. “A curse or hex or this magnitude is not a simple thing to break. It has to run its course. When I worked on the situation last night, I was surprised to feel the resistance that was still in play.”
Circe’s jaw dropped. “You’re telling us that the Magistra had trouble counteracting this hex?”
“Not trouble,” Lorna explained calmly. “I said, I was surprised at the amount of resistance…or opposition if you prefer.”
“Whoever cast this hex must have been incredibly angry,” I murmured, thinking it all over.