Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” I reply.
Zuko reaches for the phone and hangs up on her before he comes to stand in front of me. “Sit.”
I glance at his bed and do as he says.
He gets down on his knees and pulls off my boots one by one, followed by my socks. Standing, he places them at the door and comes back to me. “Sleep with the bra on or off?”
I reach for the clip, which just so happens to be at the front, and undo it. My tits fall free, but I don’t care. Zuko’s eyes lock on my chest before he reaches for his shirt and starts dressing me.
“Have you ever cared for anyone in your life?” I ask, just as he slides my arm through one of the holes carefully. He does the same with the other arm, not answering me until he pulls the sheets back on the bed.
“No.” He motions for me to crawl in, but I don’t move. “Am I doing okay?” he asks, unsure, and my heart skips a beat at his vulnerability. It’s the first sign of this type of emotion that I have seen from him.
I’m far from the sappiest person. I have an exterior shell that is almost impossible to crack.
“We shall see.” I grin as I lie back.
He leaves the room for a few minutes, then comes back with a glass of water and the pain medication the doc gave me and places it on the nightstand My eyes become heavy, but they follow him as he walks out and shuts the door behind him, taking my dirty clothes with him.
I wake up in pain.
In agony.
Every time I attempt to move, a bolt of torture shoots through me. Tears prick my eyes, and I don’t know where my phone is to call Zuko. Actually, I don’t even know if anyone grabbed it. Sighing, my head falls deeper into the pillow. I want to lie on my side. My body tries to go that way, with or without my consent, and sweat dots my forehead. I lie still for a while knowing it wasn’t the pain that woke me and then it all comes flooding back. the
Stupid fucking nightmares.
The door opens slightly, and when I turn my head, Zuko is standing there.
“You screamed,” he says. Huh, I thought I did that in my head. “Figured it was a nightmare,” he adds.
“It was.” I move wrong and yelp at the pain. He is at my bedside in three long strides. Scooping up the pills and holding the glass of water out to me.
“Painkillers. Take them.”
I shake my head. “I usually don’t sleep with painkillers but those look like they can knock a bear out. I don’t want to go back to sleep.”
“Scared of the nightmares?”
I pick at the imaginary lint on the covers.
“I…” He rounds the bed and sits on it. He doesn’t get under the blanket next to me. Instead, he stays on top of it and turns to face me.
“What do you need?” he asks quietly.
“I don’t know.” He reaches out and touches my arm. tickling the skin softly as he strokes his fingers up and down. The feel of him doing that makes me smile.
“Why won’t you let me deal with her?” he asks. I turn my head to face him, not moving any other part of my body. His hand maintains its gentle strokes, which are oddly comforting.
What is he doing? I feel my body relax. Or perhaps it’s the pain medication. Who knows.
“Because you don’t get that right,” I reply.
“What do you plan to do to her?”
I turn back and stare up at the ceiling. “Maybe I should stab her too. See how she likes it,” I mumble. “Or maybe I will just beat the living fucking shit out of her.”
“I think both options are great,” he says, with a hint of laughter in his voice. “Though I personally would go with the first.” I turn to him and see a small smirk gracing his lips.
“You and your stupid knife.”
“Your pussy says otherwise.”
“I am still gonna burn your house down, you know. You didn’t listen to me.”
“Aren’t you glad I didn’t? Where would you be now?” he playfully fires back.
“In a hospital.” I cover my mouth as I yawn.
“Yeah, but they wouldn’t be able to help with your nightmares and lack of sleep.”
“I’m sure there are drugs for that now,” I say, knowing full well l wouldn’t take them.
“Yeah, there probably are.” He runs a fingertip over my cheek before saying my name. “Alaska…”
“Hmm…”
“I don’t plan to let you go.”
“I’m not yours to keep,” I remind him.
“I know that, but you could be.”
“Could you survive off not almost killing me every time you want to fuck?” I ask him seriously.
“Yes.” His answer is immediate, and in some ways, that shocks me.