Trapped (Caged 2)

“I’m not leaving him until he wakes up.”

“Tria, the nurse said you’ve been here the whole time—you need to rest so you can be strong for him later. I’ll sit with him a while.”

“He’s the strong one,” Tria said. Her voice echoed in my head, and I wanted to answer her, but everything was still murky to me. “See? I think he’s waking up now.”

I blinked a couple of times, but it took me a few minutes to focus on Tria and Yolanda. They were both grinning at me.

“Good to see your eyes open,” Yolanda said. “The doc’s been keeping you pretty out of it.”

“How long?” I asked.

“It’s late,” Yolanda said. “Almost midnight. You were brought in last night.”

She brought over some water for me, which helped my dry throat so I could talk better. I tried to move the sheet to the side to get a better look at the bandages up the left side of my body, but Tria just tucked them back around me again.

“It was deep,” Yolanda said, “and you lost a lot of blood.”

I watched Tria wipe her hand across her cheek. With a sigh, I sneaked my hand out from under the blanket and grabbed onto her fingers.

“I’m okay,” I told her. I had no fucking idea if that was true or not, but I didn’t feel too bad.

“Nothing major cut too bad,” Yolanda continued. “There was a nick in your stomach and intestine, but they weren’t too serious.”

“They had to give you three transfusions,” Tria said quietly.

I gripped her hand again.

“I’m okay,” I said again. “My cock still works, so nothing to worry about.”

She smashed her lips together and tried to refuse me the justification of a laugh.

“How do you know?” she asked.

“I’m looking at you, baby,” I said. “You want to check the state of my cock?”

“On that note…” Yolanda grabbed her bag off the table near the door and waved goodbye, promising she’d be back to visit the next day. Tria sighed and sat heavily on the rolling chair near the bed. Her eyes were all bloodshot and droopy, which I didn’t like at all.

“Lie down with me?” I asked. I looked up at her with what I hoped were convincing and pathetic puppy dog eyes. I was glad Yolanda wasn’t around to see me because I felt shitty, and all I really wanted was for Tria to hold me.

Tria helped me move over without tearing the line of staples and surgical tape adorning my side and then crawled into the bed with me. I wrapped my arms around her, and she lay her hand over the top of my arm just like she usually did when we were in bed at home. I watched her gaze move to my side before she pulled the blanket up over us both.

“I’m not going to be as pretty anymore,” I joked.

Tria looked up at me for a moment before giving me a half smile.

“Well, I did always like your abs,” she commented, “but they aren’t my favorite part.”

“Of course not,” I said. “Your favorite part is my cock.”

“No, it isn’t!” Tria laughed.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” She glared back at me.

“Well, what then?”

She traced a line over the edge of my bicep with her finger.