In His Keeping (Slow Burn 2)

And then she felt the betraying warm slide from her nose and she glanced up at Beau in dismay just as the dull throb in her head that had gone unnoticed until now, because she’d been concentrating so fiercely on everything else, made itself known in a jagged burst of pain as if it had been caged and suddenly burst free of constraints.

She bit into her lip to prevent a moan escaping, afraid that any sound would simply make her head explode. She lifted her hands to cover her ears and simply held them there. The roar in her ears grew louder and louder until she could bear it no longer. The room seemed to spin around her while she stood still, making her so dizzy she feared she’d be sick. She swayed, closing her eyes to make the constant motion stop.

Beau swore violently and she winced, nearly screaming as the sound, magnified a hundred times, speared through her head.

She let out a whimper, no longer able to control her sounds of distress. “Please,” she whispered so softly she wasn’t sure she’d even be heard, but to her it sounded like she’d screamed it. “Please don’t talk. No sound. Beau, I’m going to be sick!”

“Nobody say a goddamn word,” Beau bit out, turning away from her so she didn’t feel the impact of his words directly.

When he turned, she wobbled precariously and suddenly a foreign set of hands clamped down around her shoulders, holding her steady. But even that didn’t prevent her legs from giving out. She shot downward, cringing and bracing for impact, knowing the jarring would split her head wide open, or at least that’s the way it would feel.

Before she hit the floor she was suddenly lifted and she immediately shut her eyes again as the room spun wildly out of control. Zack. She’d all but forgotten he was there, that he’d been the one who’d prevented her from leaving, the moment she’d turned away from him to face Beau.

“What the hell?” Beau murmured softly.

She cracked open one eye, wincing as the light seemed to pierce her eyeball like a needle. Beau had turned back around, his dark eyes even darker with concern as he viewed her cradled in Zack’s arms.

“She almost took a header,” Zack said grimly.

In response to the softly worded explanation, Ari let out another low sound of distress.

Beau immediately closed the distance between them and very carefully took her from Zack’s arms.

“Lay your head on my shoulder, honey,” Beau whispered. “I’m going to take you back to bed and Zack is going to get your medicine. Everything is going to be all right. I promise. Try to relax and school your thoughts. Focus on something soothing and relaxing, something happy and mellow. Or just blank your mind completely if you can manage that.”

The low cadence of his voice, while roaringly loud, was oddly soothing. Or perhaps it was the vibration, the low rumble from his chest that was a balm to her frayed nerves.

He carried her like she was the most precious, fragile thing in the world, like she . . . mattered, careful not to jar her in any way. The covers were still in disarray and he laid her down onto the mattress and then pulled and straightened the sheets around her, pausing only briefly to ensure her bandage was still in place underneath her shirt.

She was barely aware when Zack entered and she turned her face into the pillow, trying to muffle the sound of the jangle of pills in the bottle as Zack shook two of them out and reached over to carefully put them to her lips.

“Open up, sweetheart,” Zack murmured. “I brought you a little milk to take them with since you didn’t eat breakfast.”

She vaguely wondered why Beau wasn’t administering the medication but then her unspoken inquiry was answered when Beau very gently lifted her head, just enough so she could open her mouth and allow the pills to be placed between her lips. She was astonished by the effort it took to simply roll them to the back of her throat with her tongue. Then Beau lifted her the barest of inches more and Zack held the glass to her mouth and tilted it, careful not to allow too much of it into her mouth. Which was good because the pain had made her so nauseated that she feared anything she swallowed would simply come right back up.

The task accomplished, Zack withdrew and Beau sat on the edge of the bed, running his hand down her hair, pushing it away from her face in a soothing motion.

“Hurt,” Ari said. It was the only word she could muster. Something felt terribly wrong, but she couldn’t articulate what or for that matter anything at all.

“I know, honey. I’m so sorry. I should have flattened the jackass the minute he opened his mouth. He had no right to attack you that way,” Beau said darkly.

“He’s . . . brother . . .”

Her intended admonishment that Caleb was Beau’s brother and nothing was more important than family had narrowed to the only two words she managed to form. But it was enough to get her message across.

Beau stroked her hair, not responding to her words. He acted as though he hadn’t heard them. Or perhaps he simply chose to ignore them all together.

“After the medicine has had time to work, I’m going to get you out of these clothes so you’re more comfortable,” Beau said, continuing the soothing caresses up and down her body. “Try to relax, honey. I know it’s hard, but try for me.”

“Asked . . . me . . .”

A brief look of confusion skittered across his forehead as he leaned in closer so he could hear her barely audible words.

“What did I ask you, Ari?”

“To . . . stay. What . . . did . . . mean?”