Chapter 22
As they say, pride comes before the fall.
I didn”t even realize that I had chased her that far from the cabin. Or maybe it only feels that far because I have to carry her all the way back with my injured shoulder. The bleeding has stopped, but the wound still throbs from the pain, and my vision is still blurry. Even though I took the antidote to her poison, it still found its way into my bloodstream; I couldn”t prevent it. It is working, but the battle inside my system is taking more of a toll on me than I expected. I definitely need to catch up on some sleep.
I look down at her unconscious and cold figure in my arms, carrying her bridal style, with her head resting on my healthy shoulder. She passed out not long after we were done. Sure, we could have stayed in the hut for the rest of the night, but her body was already freezing, and it would have been too much trouble to keep her warm in that place. Especially knowing there is a warm, cozy house nearby. Besides, I can”t risk her friends noticing that she”s missing. Just the thought of the questions that we”d have to answer if I brought her back in the morning is enough to make my skin crawl. I already have a perfect little lie planned for tomorrow morning. It will be so much easier that way.
I perk up at the sight of the forest clearing in front of us, and the cabin comes into view again. Instead of going straight back into the house, I circle the property and head for my car, which is now parked in the driveway next to her friend”s car. The lights of my Q8 flash up, unlocking itself the moment I come within range of the sensor. A quick kick under the bumper and the tailgate swings open on its own. I lay her down on the padded surface next to my gun case, careful not to disturb her slumber. I toss my pistols and rifle into their intended cases and grab the small bag with my first aid kit and a set of my spare clothes.
My eyes land on her, fast asleep in the back of my car. My fingers tingle with the urge to slam the trunk shut, jump in the driver”s seat, and drive back home. Turning around, I look at the cabin where all the lights are out and her friends are still asleep. It’s almost four in the morning. No one is awake to see me kidnap her. But as soon as they realize she’s gone in the morning, I would be in trouble. The last thing I need is for them to file a missing person”s report for her. That would only make things more difficult for me, and I have no more patience left to deal with that. So, I will continue with my original plan and just infiltrate their little circle.
I lift her back up, close the trunk with another kick under the tailgate, and head to the back of the house, kicking the still-open patio door shut behind us once we’re back inside. After a quick search, I find the downstairs bathroom. I turn on the faucet, and while waiting for the water to heat up, I slip off her nightgown and get out of my own clothes. Scrunching my nose at the sight of her knees in the proper lighting for the first time tonight. A wave of anger directed at myself washes over me at the sight of her bleeding, dirt-covered skin. My poor little Dove is injured because of me.
When the water is nice and warm, I lift her into the shower and sit her up against the tiled wall. I grab the shower head, crouch down in front of her, and start rinsing off her knees, making sure the wounds are perfectly clean to prevent any future infection. The moment I move on to her torso, she stirs, her eyelids fluttering open. She’s awake but too weak to realize what is going on.
”It”s okay, close your eyes. I will put you back to bed soon,” I say, trying to sound gentle and soothing, and she nods her head. I shouldn’t waste too much time. As much as I’d like to enjoy the sight of her naked body a little longer, I really should get her to bed. After cleaning her up, I wrap her in a fluffy towel and prop her up against the bathtub before taking a quick shower myself.
With all of our belongings and her in my arms, her limbs wrapped around me, clinging to me as if I am her lifeline, I head upstairs to what I think is her room. With a soft thud, I kick the door shut behind us and drop our belongings at the foot of the bed before pushing the blanket aside and lowering her onto the mattress.
I could really use a smoke right now. I turn, but her slim fingers wrap around my wrist, stopping me from leaving her side. ”Don”t go,” she says, hardly audible.
I intertwine my fingers with hers and give her hand a gentle squeeze. ”I”m not going anywhere. I just have to take care of some things first.” The throbbing in my shoulder reminds me that I need to take care of my injury, at least a little. I can”t stitch it up myself, but I should at least cover it up for the night. I can worry about proper care when we get back to New York.
Letting go of her hand, I grab a large band-aid and the small bottle of iodine ointment from my first aid kit and begin dressing the raw wound. Checking in on her, I see that she is struggling to keep her eyes open, her lids drooping every few seconds as she watches me. As soon as I”m done, I take a look at the pack of cigarettes sitting on top of my fresh clothes. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It won”t kill me to skip one. It might even add a few precious minutes to my lifetime. But I still can”t deny the craving for that delicious burning sensation in my lungs.
Her soft mumbling startles me, and my eyes snap to where she is lying on the bed, hugging the blanket close to her naked chest. A small smile finds its way to my lips. This is better than any kind of cigarette, alcohol, or other drugs I don”t do. I have my Dove. She’s mine now, and there’s no way I’ll let her get away again.
I slip into the bed beside her. The small double bed is too short for me to lie in comfortably. With my legs curled up, I settle behind her, wrap my arms around her middle, and hold her small figure close to my chest.
Closing my eyes, I bury my face in the damp strands of her hair that smell like vanilla shampoo. This whole ordeal feels like a fever dream, one that is too good to be true. Her breathing slows down and she drifts back to sleep. I tighten my arms around her, holding on for dear life, afraid she”ll slip away if I don”t.
”Good night, Dove,” I say in a hushed voice and place a kiss on the crown of her hair.