Page 65 of The Hunter

“You can go now.”

“No offense, but I don’t trust you not to fall and crack your head open again.” I guided him toward the toilet, arranging him in front of it.

“So what? You’re going to watch?”

“I have no desire to watch,” I huffed, turning away but keeping a firm arm around his torso.

He cursed under his breath. I wasn’t sure if it was more at me or at himself. Maybe this entire situation. Eventually, he handled his business.

When he finished, I helped him hobble the short distance across the living room. By the time we reached the couch, the amount of energy he was forced to exert just to use the bathroom had taken its toll on him. He was shaking, sweat beading at his temple.

“I’ll get you some water,” I offered, hurrying to the kitchen and filling a glass. I rummaged through the drawers and eventually found a straw.

When I returned, he didn’t even lift his head. I knelt beside him again and pressed the straw to his lips.

“Drink.”

His eyes flicked up to mine. “You planning to poison me, princess?”

“If I wanted you dead, I would have left you outside.”

“I know.” His response hung in the air for several protracted moments. Then he took a long sip of water.

When he was done, I helped him lie down and pulled the blanket over him. Then I climbed back into my chair, exhaustion clawing at me.

I’d gone nights without sleep before, usually out of necessity. Survival. But I was struggling to keep my eyes open.

“You’ve been sleeping there?” Henry’s voice rasped through the silence.

“I haven’t exactly been sleeping. Not really.”

His brow furrowed. “Then what have you been doing?”

“Making sure you don’t die.”

He didn’t say anything right away. Just looked at me, as if I was some puzzle he was trying to piece together. Some mystery he was desperately trying to unravel.

“I don’t understand you,” he said. “You could have left. You couldstillleave.”

“I’m aware.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

I stared at him, my heart thudding over what I was about to admit.

“Because I’m safer with you than I am with my husband.”

I braced for him to press for more information, perhaps scoff at me over what an idyllic life I led.

His only response was a soft snore.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Henry

I woke up to the smell of something heavenly. Buttery. Warm. Sweet.

And for the first time in a while, I’d done it on my own. No gentle fingers nudging my shoulder. No whispered questions from a voice that didn’t belong in a place like this.