Page 24 of Speechless
She stirred as he lifted her eyelid, flashed a light over the pupil. Her hand lifted weakly, slapped listlessly at him. But her lips formed a single word, slow and pronounced.
Sorry.
Connor took her hands in his, squeezed. “Nothing to apologize for, baby. You were scared and I…I made mistakes. How do you feel now?”
Watching her wake fully was an experience he could relive forever. Her body moved in a hundred tiny different ways as muscles and nerves came back online. She blinked several times before her eyes stayed open, and her nose wrinkled and twitched.
Her lips curved into a sad smile.
Yeah, he was in love with her, all right.
*
Sarah brought her a cup of orange juice and some toast.
Jenna kept a wary eye on the nurse, and on Connor, as she polished off the meagre meal. Her stomach roiled for a few moments, but seeing as she wasn’t allowed to move, it soon settled happily with its tasty reward.
For the last twenty minutes, she’d been smothered in blankets on the damn table she was coming to hate. Both Connor and his dark-haired sidekick had fussed over her while they’d been doing whatever it was they did that didn’t include torturing her.
Anxiety nibbled at her, braced her on a tense ledge. The worst part was yet to come, Jenna wasn’t stupid enough to ignore it. But flashes of her moments in the bathroom plagued her, and she didn’t think she could handle another mental break like that.
She’d hurt herself and, in doing so, had caused Connor pain.
The knowledge didn’t make her feel good.
Jenna snuggled deeper into the cocoon of blankets. It was warm, almost too warm, but there was protection in them. Her own blanket fort, impenetrable to evil forces. Or so she liked to tell herself every few minutes. Her eyes watched Connor as he sat at a desk in the corner, typing steadily away on a keyboard and peering at the computer screen.
Sarah was a hummingbird, flitting from one cupboard to another, gathering things Jenna was sure didn’t bode well for her.
Then the nurse zipped over to Connor, setting her hand on the broad shoulder closest to her and leaning in. There seemed to be a discussion, a lot of whispering, head shaking and nods, before Sarah winged away to another cupboard.
Jenna’s eyes turned to slits.
The blanket fort wouldn’t be enough.
“Okay then, sweetheart, time to take some vital signs.”
Her lip curled. Swallowing hard, she winced as the rawness in her throat amplified. Suddenly her stomach didn’t appear to be quite as happy as it had been.
“Temperature first, I think. Completely painless and just takes a minute.” The nurse’s voice was bright and upbeat, non-threatening but perky enough to send Jenna’s pulse jumping. “Tilt your head for me, sweetheart. I promise this won’t hurt at all.”
Not moving a muscle, Jenna watched and waited.
The woman had nice white teeth, she noted when Sarah gave her a sunny smile. Straight and white. Jenna showed her own when Sarah reached out to brush the hair away from her ear.
“None of that, sweetheart.” Sarah smoothed the hair around the curve of Jenna’s ear with an easy touch, tucking it away. Lifting the digital thermometer, she made soothing noises. “Relax, Jenna. You look like you want to cry.”
She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. But she did flinch as the thermometer breached her ear, cold and foreign. Her fists clenched in her lap beneath the blankets. A few moments later, she flinched again at the quiet beep.
“All done. Clever girl. Ninety-nine point eight. Fairly high but within normal range.” Sarah smiled comfortingly, touched her hand to Jenna’s shoulder. “See? I’m not someone you have to be afraid of, sweetheart.”
The jury was still out on that, she mused. Her eyes darted over to the corner, to Connor, and she yearned for his voice, the warmth of his hand.
“Reassure your charge, Connor. She’s starting to worry.”
Jenna flushed, dropped her chin. Yearning was one thing; making it obvious was another. She huddled into the blankets when a hand reached for her, ducking away from a blow. That same hand stroked over her hair, around the side of her face.
“Nothing to worry about.” That voice. It wrapped around her, inside her, and almost made her purr. “Good girls don’t have to worry about anything at all.”