Dominated (The Enforcers 2)

26

Evangeline woke with a still-throbbing headache, her vision so blurred she could barely make out her surroundings. Her mouth was dry and her throat swollen and so scratchy that it hurt to swallow.

She had insisted that she take Silas’s couch in the living room, refusing to allow him to give up his bed and for that matter his personal space and privacy, which she knew he guarded fiercely. There had been a stubborn set to his jaw that told her he was going to dig in his heels, but she’d flatly refused and perhaps in the end, sensing how perilously close she was to losing her tenuous grasp on her control, he’d conceded, though he wasn’t at all happy about it.

She could hear him in the kitchen of the small apartment and she smelled coffee brewing, but the scent immediately made her stomach rebel and perspiration beaded her forehead and her flesh became clammy and sticky.

Pain was ever present. Every blink of her eyes was like a shard of glass being plunged into her skull. She wasn’t aware of making any sound, but suddenly Silas loomed over her, concern etched into his features.

“Evangeline? Are you okay?”

She didn’t even try to lie to him. She shook her head and promptly regretted even that small action. Her hand flew to her mouth as her stomach rebelled and Silas simply scooped her up into his arms and rushed for the bathroom, setting her down in front of the toilet.

“Deep breaths,” he said in a hushed tone. “Is it your head still hurting you?”

She nodded much slower this time. “It’s awful, Silas,” she whispered.

“I’ll get something for you to take as soon as I’m sure you can keep it down,” he said grimly. “And then you’ll need to lie down on the couch and rest. The medicine will likely knock you on your ass.”

“What is it?” she asked fearfully.

“Nothing harmful,” he soothed. “It’s prescription pain medication. I get migraines and they’re debilitating. I have to take it in order to ease the pain. Trust me. You’ll feel quite nice in half an hour or so. And then, if you’re feeling up to it, I’ll take you next door and let you in the apartment.”

It took all she had not to hang her head again, but after Silas’s warning last night, she didn’t have the mental strength to take on his anger at what she simply couldn’t help but feel shame for.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I won’t stay long. Just a day or two until I decide what I’m going to do.”

He scowled at that, but then she hadn’t expected anything less. “You’ll stay for as goddamn long as you need to. Get me?”

“Yeah,” she said tiredly. “Whatever. I don’t have the strength to argue with you at the moment.”

His expression softened. “I have no desire to argue with you, doll. Have your nausea under control now? Think you can take lying down on the couch again? I’ll get you some medicine and fix you something to eat.”

She let him lead her back into the living room and sank onto the couch while he went for the medication. A moment later, he returned with a glass of milk and a pill for her to take.

After she’d downed it, he took the glass back from her. “Lie back. I’ll go fix you something to eat. Don’t worry. It won’t be too heavy. I know you’re still queasy.”

“Thank you,” she whispered without opening her eyes.

“Anytime, doll. Anytime.”

She dozed off and on until Silas came back into the living room with two plates. He sat down on the couch next to her and helped her to a sitting position before handing her one of the plates.

“Feeling any better yet?” he asked.

“Swimmy,” she muttered.

“Swimmy? Is that a word?”

“It’s how I feel. Swimmy. Like the entire world around me is swimming.”

He chuckled. “Ah, I gotcha. Yep, I’d say the medicine is kicking in. Try to eat something. If you’re feeling better after breakfast, I’ll take you over before I head into work.”

She tensed and closed her eyes at the mention of work. Drake. He would be there, no doubt. Just another day like any other. He wouldn’t have been up all night last night like she was, devastated by loss.

“Tell Maddox thanks when you see him,” she said. “For everything. I owe both of you my thanks. For being my friend. One can never have too many of those, and apparently I have fewer than most.”

“When it comes to friendship, I prefer quality over quantity,” Silas said matter-of-factly.

“Good point,” she conceded.

She stared down at her barely consumed breakfast and to her dismay, tears splattered onto her plate, dripping from her face. She hadn’t even realized she’d started crying again.

“Ah hell, doll,” Silas said, his face a wreath of torture. “You have to stop crying or you’re never going to get rid of that headache.”