Lazarus (The Henchmen MC 7)

What I didn't anticipate however, was Lazarus walking back to me, reaching down, pulling me to him, and carrying me to the tub where he lowered both of us down into it fully clothed.

"Figure this solves the problem," he said into my ear as he settled back, rearranging me until my back was to his chest, his arm around my belly like an anchor.

The water was scalding, too hot for comfort for any normal person and, without the chills of withdrawal, I didn't know how he was tolerating it.

"Why are you doing this?" I heard myself ask, not conscious of even thinking it before it was out of my mouth.

Beneath and behind me, his chest expanded as he took a deep breath and slowly let it go, his free hand that wasn't around my stomach moving up to brush my hair behind my ear.

"Do you believe in signs?" he asked oddly.

"Like burning bushes?" I asked, smiling a little.

"Maybe not so dramatic, but essentially."

Did I?

I wasn't sure really. I personally didn't think I had ever had the experience, but I knew many people who were firm believers in them. Like when my friend in high school was debating 'going all the way' with her boyfriend and then fell and fractured her leg in three places only to find out that he had already slept with every girl in her squad. Or how a coworker once told me she was driving late at night and a truck pulled out in front of her carrying a bunch of street signs to a destination, the most prominent one saying "slow down" which she for some reason heeded the advice of before the truck turned off and suddenly a dark-clad figure ran across the road and, had she not slowed down, she likely would have hit and killed him.

So maybe there were signs.

For other people.

"I guess," I allowed, shrugging.

"Are you religious. Or, at least, were you raised that way?"

"I went to Sunday school as a kid," I acknowledged, leaving out the fact that I had lost my faith sometime around middle school and never got it back.

"Do you remember who Lazarus was?" he went on, making me take a minute to try to bring the name up.

"The man Jesus brought back from the dead," I supplied, about ninety-percent sure that was correct.

"Mmhm," he mumbled, his fingers no longer tucking my hair, but moving up and down my arm in a way that shouldn't have felt so good, but did. I was half-wanting to blame the fact that I just felt godawful in general and that it was nice to feel something that wasn't pain or a crawling sensation. But a bigger part of me maybe thought there was something more to it. "Lazarus was a follower of Jesus and he was sick and his sisters sent word to Jesus to try to heal him. Only when he showed up, he had already died and was in his tomb for four days."

It was ringing bells as he brought it up.

Though I couldn't see how the hell this had anything to do with signs of any form.

"And he raised him from the dead," I said, a little impatient to get to whatever point he had to make.

"Yeah," he agreed, his hand moving down, his palm over the top of mine, his fingers sliding between my fingers and curling in. Holding my hand. He was holding my freaking hand. "Any idea what city that was in?"

City? I barely remembered the main details of the story, let alone specifics on things as unimportant as the city.

At my head shake, his hand squeezed mine slightly.

"Bethany."

I felt my stomach clench oddly at that, at the strange coincidence that could, well, maybe be seen as a sign to someone who was a firm believer in them. Even being somewhat on the fence, it did seem rather poetic in a way.

But if he was maybe having some psychotic beliefs that that meant we were like... fated or some crazy thing like that...

"I'm not overly religious, but that part of my learning as a kid flew back to me when I saw your ID. If I was on the fence at all about trying to help you, I think all the doubts went away right then."

Alright, so that wasn't completely terrifying.

It was borderline weird, but maybe if I believed more in signs, I would have seen it the same way.

"Bethany was the city where the sick went to be healed," he added, making my belly do the clenching thing again at that, maybe seeing a bit more why that could be seen as a sign. I sure as hell had been sick. And I would continue to be.

"So you're... back from the dead?" I asked, wanting to see where he fit into the situation.

"Yes and no," he agreed, nodding.