Rising Storm (Westin Force #2) - Julie Trettel Page 0,24
didn’t exclude me though. Both went out of their way to include me in conversation, even knowing that I wouldn’t do much more than grunt, shake my head, or nod. Because of that they kept their questions mostly to simple things that I could answer. I already had a soft spot for Clara for saving my life, but it was Shelby that I felt closest to.
When they got back, Ben and Tarron escorted Painter to our room on a stretcher. I started to freak out again, but Shelby stayed by my side as the large silverback was laid out on the bed. He was barely conscious, but Clara assured me that was from the pain meds.
He sniffed my nest and sighed contentedly before snuggling in for the night. I supposed night was the wrong word as the sun was already rising in the sky.
Clara and Shelby promised to check in on us later.
Once the others left, I wanted to curl up and sleep with him just to assure myself he was okay, but I was too afraid I’d hurt him. Instead, I settled into his nest that I’d made him on the floor the night I’d arrived. It felt like so long ago.
The floor was hard. It was awful. I couldn’t imagine how he had managed to sleep there without complaint all these nights. It was the most uncomfortable place I’d ever slept and that was saying something. I felt horrible. He’d seemed happy enough to sleep there, but there was no way it was any better for him.
It dawned on me that the only reason he would willingly sleep there without objection was because I’d made it for him. My heart ached. He was so much better than I deserved and here I was, plotting ways to escape him. I hadn’t missed the fact that I hadn’t been able to go through with it though. What did that mean? I couldn’t think about it.
I knew with certainty that I wasn’t going anywhere until I knew for a fact he was truly okay.
I was restless all-night, partly worrying about him but mostly just uncomfortable. Was this how he’d felt when I was healing?
I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t growing on me, but it had been slow and then I felt like something had jolted into place when he left and came back injured. Maybe it was my natural protective instincts kicking in, but I felt closer to him. I was struggling to process it. I’d purged most human emotions for so long that it was making me feel unstable dealing with everything. No wonder Painter had been so frustrated with me before he left. Was it this bad for him too?
The next morning when he awoke, I was sitting in the chair watching him just as he had watched me that first night when we’d arrived. I got it now. Plus, the chair was better than the floor.
He moaned when he stretched. Fear spiked in me. Was he in a great deal of pain? Did something happen overnight? Was he getting an infection? I couldn’t stop my brain from letting everything in.
My mother had told me repeatedly that humans were weak, and in our skin, we were weak too. Human emotions made us weak. I could see that, and yet, I had never felt stronger either. If someone walked in right now while my mate was injured, I’d do whatever I had to in order to protect him.
I paused letting that realization sink in. I’d let him into my troupe. When had that happened? What was I supposed to do with that? I knew he wouldn’t come home with me to live as a gorilla. I’d seen him in gorilla form. His human habits and mannerisms would get him killed quickly in the jungle.
My heart was torn on where my priorities now laid—with the band I’d left behind, the only family I’d ever known, or my one true mate? Neither were replaceable for me.
He shifted back into his skin and seemed to test his leg and grunt. I knew it still hurt him. He shouldn’t be back in his skin so soon.
“Good morning,” he said in a deep gruff voice when he noticed I was watching him. It was super sexy and made my heart race.
I wanted to shift and talk to him. For the first time I really wanted that, but I was scared of what it would mean for me.