She answered question after question, her voice trembling, her face pale as she recounted the event, until she looked ready to pass out. Decklan ground his teeth through the entire telling, her fear and panic becoming his as he realized how close she’d been to the bullet that had hit her friend. And all he could do was place a hand on her shoulder and listen. He’d never felt more useless in his life.
Finally, the cop had enough. He told her he’d be in touch if he had more questions. She was drained and exhausted, and the last thing Decklan wanted was to force her to have another emotional conversation with him.
She had to go through another check of her vitals and a talk with a doctor and a social worker about post-traumatic stress and what to expect once she left the hospital. Decklan doubted she processed anything they told her, but he did. And he intended to make sure she knew she wasn’t on her own in dealing with this. Anything that affected her affected him, and he would make sure she knew it.
The doctor signed her out, and then she insisted on checking in with Brad’s family. They were warm and kind to her, worried about her welfare as they assured her that Brad was in recovery now and would eventually be fine.
She was swaying on her feet, and Decklan had had enough. “Time to go home. You need to rest.”
She shook her head, an obstinate look on her face. “I want to wait until Brad’s in a room and can have visitors. I need to see for myself he’s okay.” She glanced up at him with those big brown eyes he normally couldn’t resist.
He steeled himself against her appeal. If she wasn’t going to look out for herself, he’d just have to do it for her. “You can come back tomorrow when Brad’s more awake and you’ve had some sleep. You’re dead on your feet.”
“But—”
He grasped her arm and led her away from Brad’s family. “Do you really want Brad to see you covered in his blood?” he asked, his tone deliberately gentle but firm.
She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again. “Fine. You win.”
“It wasn’t a contest.”
He would have picked her up and carried her out, but he didn’t trust her not to make a scene. And it would only be making him feel better to have her in his arms. She was still hurt and angry with him, and he didn’t blame her.
At least she was accepting his support, and right now, he’d take what little he could get.
His hand on her back, he led her out of the hospital and into the hot summer air.
She stopped at the curb and turned to him. “I can take a cab to my apartment from here.” Before he could ask what apartment, she explained. “Brad rents one for me for when we’re in the city.”
A new piece of information. Apparently they had catching up to do about parts of her life he knew nothing about.
“You’ll come home with me,” he insisted.
“Why?” She straightened her shoulders and met his gaze without flinching. “Why are you here, and why do you want me back at your place?”
He groaned. “Listen, it’s hot as hell, and you need to be in air conditioning. So let me just get you back to my apartment and we’ll talk there.” He took her silence as approval and flagged down the nearest empty taxi.
He didn’t relax until they were out of Manhattan and the cab driver had dropped them off at his place in Great Neck and they walked inside his apartment. Just knowing he had her here gave him hope that they could get past their last awkward time together.
“I know you want to talk and so do I. But can we get you cleaned up first?” he asked.
Amanda nodded, sudden tears in her eyes that she swiped with one hand. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m never so emotional.”
“It’s the adrenaline drop. You’ve had a huge shock today. You went through something not many people ever experience. Remember what they told you at the hospital? Everyone’s reaction is different but to expect yourself to be emotional.”
She nodded. “I think I’d like a shower.”
He followed her into the room. While she headed for the bathroom and he heard the sound of the shower running, he pulled out a pair of old drawstring sweats and a tee shirt.
She’d left the bathroom door open, so he walked inside and placed the clothes on the bathroom counter.
A quick glance at her and he realized she was staring down at her blood-stained dress, tears dripping from her eyes and her hands hanging uselessly at her sides.
“Come on. Let me help.”
She turned toward him, and everything he felt for her washed over him in one never-ending wave. Heart lodged in his throat, he took over, wiping her tears with the towel, then helping her out of her clothes. She moved slowly and he didn’t push. Nor did he let his gaze linger on her body as she stepped out of her undergarments. She was so fragile at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms, but he sensed she still wasn’t ready.
Instead, he turned away as she stepped into the shower, and knowing she wouldn’t want any reminders of today, he balled the garment up and tossed it into the trash.
“I’ll wait outside,” he said loudly, over the sound of the running water, prepared to give her privacy.
But when his answer was a gulping sob, he turned back around to find her leaning against the shower wall, her shoulders shaking.
“Fuck it,” he muttered and quickly stripped off his clothes, opened the shower door, and stepped in to join her.
Amanda didn’t know why, but as soon as she hit the shower and saw the first bit of blood run from her arms to the floor, she fell apart, and Decklan was there.
He pulled her into his arms. “Let it go,” he urged.
And she did. She wrapped herself around him, his solid body her safe haven as she fell apart completely.
She came back to herself in slow bits of awareness. Decklan’s big hands caressing her back, his deep voice whispering in her ear, warm water cascading over her as she curled into him.
She pulled back. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He gazed at her, intense dark eyes looking right into her soul. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I am now.”
She soaped herself up, more capable now that the hysteria had passed. She felt much better once all the evidence of today had swirled down the drain. She quickly handled her hair, using shampoo and conditioner she’d left here and he hadn’t gotten rid of.
Interesting.
So was his showing up at the hospital.