Page 97 of Hotter 'N Hell

“What can I do now? Anything?” I asked.

“Water.” Another weak, raspy sound.

I swung my gaze back to Bane. “Do we have water?” I asked.

“No. We got ice.”

“What kind?”

He cocked a brow. “The kind you ice dead bodies with. Fucking ice, Saylor.”

I winced. “Is it in pieces?”

“I can break some up,” he replied, then walked out of the room.

I turned back to Jude. “Who did this?” I asked him. I needed to make sure I shot the right people.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied.

“Yes, it does. This is my fault.”

One of his arms moved slightly, as if he were trying to get it closer to me. I reached down and picked up his hand as carefully as I could. The blue color was fading, but the broken skin on his wrists looked like raw meat. I bit my lip until I tasted blood to keep from breaking into a fit of sobs I couldn’t control. Once they were let loose, I wouldn’t be able to hold back.

Lowering my head, I pressed a kiss to the top of his hand. “I’m sorry,” I whispered again.

“I’m sor-ry.” He struggled to speak.

I shook my head. “No. You, what you did—different level. This is wrong. You can’t help what you feel. You didn’t deserve to be beaten because of it.”

God, what all had I said last night? Gathe. It was Gathe and Than. Than would have helped Gathe. Again, this was my fault. I had been drinking, and shit had flown from my mouth. Damn them!

“Here.” Bane handed me a plastic cup with small chips of ice.

I took it and picked one up. “I’m going to slide this in your mouth. Is that okay.”

“Yes.”

Easing it between his lips, I tried my best not to touch thecracked-open skin. He made a small noise, and I waited to see if he was going to be able to handle it. I didn’t know how much damage they’d done in his mouth.

“More.”

Relieved that this was working, I tried another of the smaller pieces. Leaning forward, I brushed my lips across his cheek. Needing to comfort him in some way. Not sure if he’d ever speak to me again when I got him free.

“More.”

I tried a larger chip this time.

“Do we have a wet cloth or something I can use to get the blood off his neck at least?” I asked Bane.

“We torture people for information and/or kill them down here. It’s not the fucking Marriott.”

I might shoot him too. Even if he had helped and brought me here. I just needed to inflict pain, and he had never been my favorite.

“S’okay,” Jude said.

I gave him more ice, then brushed the hair off his forehead. Running my hand through his hair. It seemed the only place where there was no blood.

“Feels good.” His voice was weak, but the raspy tone was gone. His throat not as dry.