“Yeah? And what exactly are you going to do to fix it?”
“I don’t know. But maybe I can help if you let me try.”
“It seems like all we ever do is play hospital.”
“That’s because the only time you let me see you is when you’re too weak to disappear.”
“Ah. So I’m just supposed to hang around your room all day, waiting for you?”
“That would be nice,” I say with a grin.
He chuckles. “You’re actually picturing it!”
“No fair. Stop reading my thoughts.”
“Then don’t make them so entertaining. Do I have to wear the apron, though?”
“Shut up! I didn’t think that,” I laugh, taking his hands.
My face falls at the new vision, and his smile dies as well. He’s silent as I watch, and the burn of tears chokes my throat. I close my eyes and grip harder, allowing each detail to sear my conscience. Clausen is there, his cold, calculated gaze observing from behind the table. Chambers to his left, executing the calm directives. Daniel writhing, twisting against the restraints on his wrists. I have trouble remaining still as a more frightening emotion takes over: rage. Hatred. Yes, I hate them.
Daniel pulls away, and I open my eyes. We stare at each other. He’s reading every thought and feeling inside me, and I wish I could offer more. Instead, I kiss him. I have to. His initial wince doesn’t stop us, and he reaches for me as well. The vision returns, terrifying and gruesome, but exactly what I need to experience the depth of our bond. His touch ignites my skin, burns away the trauma, exposes the darkness.
I sigh when he flinches and hunches over.
“I’m sorry,” he says, shifting in the chair.
“For what? That your torture got in the way of our foreplay?”
His lips twist up, and I squeeze his hand before letting go.
“Will you let me see if there’s anything I can do about these injuries that ruined the moment I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks?”
“Your fantasies…” He shakes his head with a smile. “Damn, if this ever happens you’re going to be pretty disappointed.”
“Really? I’m not worried. Something keeps the girls hanging on.”
He laughs and allows me to pull him up. We limp toward the bed, and I do my best to support him as he lowers himself to the mattress. I have to wait while he catches his breath.
“Was this about the Senator?”
He doesn’t respond, and I sigh.
“Here, let me see.”
“You and I both know there’s nothing you can do.”
I know, but…
“You’re already doing what you can. Just let this one go, okay?”
I hate that maybe he’s right. Maybe I don’t want to know what he’s hiding under his bloody shirt.
“What are they trying to accomplish now?”
He closes his eyes. “You already know I won’t answer that.”
I grunt and drop to the bed beside him. “Fine. Are they still keeping you in that closet?”
