Chapter Twelve
Axe really does get back as soon as he can. He's only gone a couple hours. When he comes back into the room, he has a bag in his hands.
“I've got some stuff for you.” He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls stuff out of the bag.
“Here are some of my briefs and shirts for you to wear. You need loose clothing for your ribs. I got you the strongest set of painkillers available and cream for your bruises. It will help your skin recover.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, overwhelmed by his generosity. This is the most cared for I have ever felt. It's causing me to well up.
“I'll put the cream on for you. Why don't you put on some briefs to cover yourself first? I'll step outside.” Axe stands up.
“Wait.” I stop him. “I-I need to go to the bathroom,” I say, embarrassed.
“Oh, I'll help you walk.”
Axe comes over and carefully helps me out of bed.
When I'm on my feet he puts his hand on my lower back to steady me while holding onto my forearm.
As quick as going to the bathroom is, this task takes five times as long.
As I stand near the toilet, he puts the briefs on the counter then closes the door behind him to give me privacy.
I drop the robe and sit down on the toilet, doing what I have to then holding onto the wall to lift myself back up.
I struggle to bend and put the briefs on, but I do.
“I'm done,” I tell him.
It'll hurt to grab the robe off the floor so I don't bother.
He's already seen me in my underwear. The briefs are covering more than my underwear did.
Besides, he lost his mate. I don't think he would ever look at another woman like that.
Axe opens the door and his eyes land on my middle section and he winces.
“Elora, I expect an explanation when you have your strength back,” Axe says firmly.
He helps me back to bed and lays me down, keeping my body from bending too much.
I see he put the painkillers on the bedside table and I'm assuming the clothes are in the bedside drawer.
He grabs the cream and sits to the side of me.
Even though I'm lying here with my breasts out, it's not awkward.
It's nerve-wracking but he isn't making this awkward for me.
“This cream should be applied twice a day.” He squeezes some on his fingers then moves closer.
“Axe,” I shakily say, dreading him touching my ribs.
“I won't hurt you,” he assures me in a soothing voice.
His fingers come into contact with my skin.
He slowly rubs the cream into my bruises.
It's tender, making my breathing sharp. He uses his fingertips, being careful not to put too much pressure against my skin.
I watch him in amazement as he does it. He seems so concentrated on getting every centimetre that's bruised.
The way his fingers move in a soft and slow circular rhythm is relieving.
I don't think I've ever been touched so gently. It causes a tear to slip out of my eye.
“There.” He twists the cap back on the bottle. His expression drops when he looks at me. “Did I hurt you?” Axe swipes his thumb under my eye to wipe away my tear.
“No.” I'm being honest when I tell him that.
“You should keep warm.” He grabs a shirt and helps me pull my arms through. “Do you want to be alone?”
“I should probably get some sleep,” I say, and he nods. He closes the curtains slightly so the sun is shining against the wall instead of right on the bed.
When he leaves I'm determined that by the end of the day I’ll have a set plan for what I'm going to do when Axe's hospitality comes to a finish. I still have school. I assume my father is still paying for it. Shit. I have work today. I’ve got to make arrangements.
“Axe,” I say loudly, my throat hurting. He comes to the room immediately looking alert. “I need my phone. It was in my pants.”
Axe goes into the bathroom and grabs my phone.
I thank him and he goes back to wherever he was.
My phone has missed calls from my father.
Why the fuck would he call after choosing those shits over me?
I ignore them and call my manager and bring the phone to my ear.
I hope I don't get in trouble for calling in on such late notice.
I tell her I can't make my shift this afternoon as well as the rest of the week because I broke a bone.
My manager accepts my answer but says she may hire a temp for a couple months in case I need the time off.
She wishes me well and then I hang up. I feel more relaxed knowing I have time off and I'm still keeping my job.
I decide to call Amelia and let her know I won't be at school.
She doesn't answer so I leave a message telling her some bad shit happened in my personal life and I'll be back at school when I've got it under control.
Now that two of my worries are simplified, I decide I can sleep. My challenge now is getting past the painful stage of healing.