Page 95 of Talk to Me
I flicked a look to the oversized tumbler she lifted and took a long drink from before she resumed scanning the tables and tables of data scrolling in front of her.
“Got it.” Folding my arms, I leaned back against the counter. “Get some sleep.”
Remington slid me a look but I didn’t tackle his unasked question. He’d had Patch watch for the last several hours. If he’d wanted her up and out of that chair, he should have done something then.
Me? I set an internal timer to count down to her next break, whether she was willing or not. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her, but kid gloves weren’t doing her any favors either. If she looked after herself like this when we weren’t around…
I scowled. It was absolutely her choice to do what she needed when she needed—and I would support her a thousand percent after she healed. Stress, in addition to not eating well and not sleeping, was not remotely conducive to recovery.
The assassin continued to stare at me for another minute before he nodded. Instead of just heading to his room, though, he paused to put a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up, blinking owlishly as though she hadn’t even realized he was there.
Or maybe she’d just forgotten. I added that to the mental inventory I’d been taking. Remington spoke to her in low tones. Clearly, he didn’t want me eavesdropping. Rather than lean closer, I moved into the kitchen and started putting together a small meal.
It wasn’t fancy like the dishes Remington made or even particularly specific like Locke’s straightforward meals. I could grill, I could heat up an MRE and I could make sandwiches. The rest never seemed like something I needed to learn.
As it was, I sectioned the meat and the cheese into bite sizes and added some Ritz crackers and a little honey. She seemed to like the honey.
By the time I had it ready, Remington was gone. The lights were all low in the kitchen and the living room. The windows were covered with both blinds and curtains. None of us cared for the sight lines so we closed them all.
I carried the plate over to her desk. “Break time,” I told her and she sighed, impatience edging the long exhale before she glanced up at me.
“I might have something.” Not her best argument. If she actually had something, she’d tell me what it was instead of a vague notion.
“Then it will be there when you’re done. You haven’t taken a break in a while and you need one.” When she would have taken the plate, I held it away from her. “Nope. A break means you get up and you eat somewhere that isn’t in front of that computer.”
That earned me the sourest look. Those gray eyes were pure steel. “McQuade, I don’t have time to play games.”
“Then don’t play, Sugar Bear. Just get up and eat. You should get up and move around anyway, sitting for too long…”
She didn’t even let me finish the admonishment before she pushed the chair back and stood. A grimace rippled over her face and I didn’t miss how she put a hand against the desktop to steady herself. Inch by inch she straightened. She also tried to cover, but it was way too late.
Yeah, she’d been sitting in that chair for far too long.
“Come on,” however, was all I said. “Something to drink?”
“Fine,” she said on a long exhale then headed for the breakfast bar on the other side of the kitchen. There was a definite hitch to her steps. She wasn’t quite limping, but she wasn’t moving evenly either.
I didn’t say a word when she leaned against the counter rather than sit. She’d grown paler while she moved. Away from the light of her screen, her pallor seemed even more clear.
“Drink?” I asked after setting the plate in front of her. She stared at the food with a kind of weariness I could feel in my bones. The faintly baffled look suggested she wasn’t even clear on what the food was.
Yeah, someone had definitely been overdoing it. The pussy footing from the assassin and the thief was not doing her any favors.
None.
“I don’t even know if I can eat all of this,” she admitted. Well, that was a start.
“You don’t have to,” I told her. “But you do need to eat some because you need to take your meds, including your pain meds.”
“I don’t like them.” Yeah, she didn’t have to tell me that. She’d more than made that clear. I went to the fridge and studied the options inside of it. No sugar or caffeine. She needed rest.
I pulled out a cold bottle of water and opened it. When I put it in front of her, she stared at it for a beat. Then rubbed a hand against her face before she claimed it. It was like someone had pulled the plug and all of her energy swirled down the drain.
After piling some of the meat and cheese onto a cracker with a little bit of the honey, I waited for her to finish the long swallow of water then held it up to her. The confusion in her eyes took a little longer to clear, then she accepted the offering.
Rather than argue, I just kept feeding her in small bites in between her sips of water. When she waved off the next bite, I ate it myself and earned a faint smile.
“If you were hungry,” she murmured. “You should eat too.”