"Leave me alone." She spoke to the wall. "Sleep."
He frowned. "I'll stay."
She rolled her head against the pillow. "I'll be fine. Just want to sleep. Please...let me."
He, too, preferred hiding in a darkened room when sick and ignoring the outside world. However, he hated leaving her by herself. What if she needed help during the night or ended up getting sicker, and he wasn't there to help her?
No, he had to stay. Growing up, he only left Alain when he was sick if it meant getting them something to eat or filching medicine for him out of someone's house or the corner store. He hated those times.
He wasn't his brother's mother. The stone-hard fact that he was not the person responsible for Alain made his hatred toward his mother burn in his soul. Luckily, when he was old enough to do something about his absent mother, one of her pimps found her dead from an apparent drug overdose.
He hoped his mother rotted in hell for what she'd done to them.
His hand had fisted as memories hit him hard, and he forced himself to open his fingers to concentrate on Aubrey needing him. "I'll have someone bring my clothes for tomorrow."
"No." Her nose wrinkled, and she peered at him from underneath her lashes. "I'm okay. Probably a twenty-four-hour bug or something I ate. I don't want you to get sick. Go home."
"Do you want to go to the emergency room? Maybe they have something they can give you to settle your stomach and allow you to rest," he said.
"I'm fine. Really." She shuddered. "I just want to sleep."
"Aubrey," he said in an exhale. "I don't want to argue when you're not feeling well."
"Then don't." She closed her eyes.
Torn in two, he bowed to her wishes. "I'll be right back."
He hurried out of her room and found her cell phone. On his way back to her, he called his number and then hung up.
He returned to her side. "I'm putting your phone on your nightstand. Hit redial if you start getting sicker, okay?"
She nodded.
He felt her forehead, which was cool and dry. Good, no fever. He'd hate to make her take an aspirin when her stomach was upset.
"Promise you'll call me if you need me. For anything," he said.
She nodded.
He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Sleep. Don't get up. I'll lock the door behind me. Call me first thing in the morning."
She nodded again without opening her eyes. "Bye, Serge," she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.
With one last kiss to her forehead, he walked silently out of her room. He locked the front door and strolled out to his car. He glanced back at the house. He hated to leave her, but it was more important for her to stay calm and be able to sleep. If that meant being alone, then he'd give her tonight.
Tomorrow, they would need to discuss their personal likes and dislikes when faced with situations beyond their control. Sickness had pushed his needs aside, and he found himself okay with that.
He started the car and pulled away from the curb. He'd be the first to admit that he had no understanding of what she expected of him when she wasn't feeling well. Sexually, he was confident in his ability to keep her content and satisfied. Financially, he could support her. Hell, she wouldn't even need to work. Emotionally, he'd make sure he provided every need she had. Beyond that, he had no fucking clue what he was doing.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled into his garage. Restless, he sat in the car, wondering how he'd gone from living alone without a care to worrying about Aubrey being alone in her own house. His discontent bothered him, and he felt an urge to call his brother.
He removed his cell phone and hit the contact for Alain. One of the first things he'd done when money started rolling in was to purchase a cell for his brother. He paid the upkeep for a promise that Alain wouldn't pawn or bargain with his only link to him.
"Yo," Alain said.
He closed his eyes at the sound of his brother's voice. "Hey."
In the background, the faint slapping of skin against skin came across the line. "Hang on."
