Page 125 of Hell Bent

Alix had sat on the bed, but now, she stood up and said, “Stop bossing me around. I said I’d show up, and I showed up.”

“You showed up late,” I said, “and you didn’t answer my text or my call. There. Is. Something. Wrong. And I want to know what it is. Look.” I sat down myself and took her hand—which was cold—to tug her down to sit beside me. “You helped me. You gave me a hard time about not accepting help, and I listened. Now it’s my turn.”

She sighed. “I slipped, all right? I slipped and fell. Also, like I said, my period is about to start, and that can ache a fair bit.”

“Especially if you’re worn down, I bet. OK. Show me where you slipped.”

She glared at me. “On my hip. Or you could call it my butt and thigh. What was worse, it happened at work, which means people saw, whichmeansI had to log it and go to thefirst-aid station, which means my team’s safety record for the month just got blown with only three days left, and I’m pissed about that. It was my own fault. I wasn’t being careful enough, and I know better. Iteachbetter.”

I said, “I hear a lot of words. I’m not seeing how you’re hurt.”

“What,” she said, “I’m supposed to pull down my pants and show you?”

“Yes. How else am I going to know?”

“Fine.” She rolled over, pulled down the yoga pants and her underwear, and showed me.

Jesus Christ.

The bruise was the size of a salad plate and purplish-red, marring her hip, butt, and upper thigh, with some additional speckles of purple around it for decoration. I said, “OK. Ice pack,” waited for her to pull up her pants, and gave her one of the extra-large gel packs I’d bought, slipped into its soft cover. “Is that a normal bruise for you?”

“For a bad fall, it is,” she said, rolling onto her side and draping the frozen pack over her butt. “They’re worse on me because I tend to bleed into my muscles, and I fell on the edge of a concrete pad. And before you ask, yes, bleeding into your muscles hurts. If you have another one of those ice packs, my body seems to have decided to offer up another extra-painful period, too.”

I didn’t say anything, just headed out to the kitchen and came back with another gel pack, which she held over her abdomen. I thought a minute, then sat down on the edge of the bed, put a hand over the pack on her butt to hold it in place, and said, “It really was a rough day.”

“Yeah,” she said. “It really was.” She may have blinked back a tear there, too. “How was yours?”

“Oh,” I said, “I’d rate it at ‘awful.’” I smiled, she did too, and that was better. Ben came in with the tea, saw the icepacks, and said, “Oh, man. Are you OK?” and that was better, too.

Alix said, “I’ll be fine. I missed being with you today, sort of sharing stuff, I guess, even though I was glad to have something to do. Confusing, like I said.”

“Yeah.” Ben headed to the door, then turned back. “Dinner’s coming soon, probably something really plain and healthy like boiled chicken breasts and broccoli, but I could order something else for you if you want. That tortilla soup, maybe. You liked that last time.”

She said, “That would be great. Would you go on and do that for me? And could you come here a minute?”

He hesitated, but did it, and she took his hand and said, “Thank you for thinking about me. It makes me feel better even pre-soup. Your mom would be proud.”

He ducked his head, said, “OK,” and got out of there, but he’d heard that.

I said, “You’re pretty special yourself, you know.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, shifting a little. “I really may have come close to losing my job today.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. The boss—Howard, the guy you met—gave me a hard time about those two days off, especially since I asked for another day and a half to go to Baltimore. Once again, across the entire country. I didn’t even ask if you want me. I figure, Ben needs to go, and?—”

“I want you. Are you kidding? Of course I do. So you can’t ask for time off?”

“I told you. Sixty hours a week. Deadlines. And I’m a foreman. I could have snapped a little, though. I told him—” She stopped, then went on, “That there are other jobs.”

“Whoa. Bringing out the big guns.”

“Yep. And—OK. I’m going to say this. I’m really not feeling so hot. And I’m not—” She stopped, breathed, shifted.

Oh, man. There was my heart, speeding up and clenching, both at the same time. I had a hand on her head now, smoothing her hair back.Go easy,I reminded myself.No fussing.Careful as a man coaxing a wild bird to his hand, I said, “Go on.”

She said, “I could need another infusion, especially if I want to go to Baltimore with you. The fall, my period, and I’m probably a little run down.”