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Chapter Thirteen
Callie
It’s too much, every emotion I’ve felt today is too heavy. I am going to fall to pieces at any moment. The only thing keeping me together is the hold Nathan has on me. I’m afraid if I let go of him, I’ll lose the only thing that hasn’t threatened to break me. I know my tears are soaking through his t-shirt but he doesn’t let me go, he doesn’t loosen his grip on me. If he holds me tight enough and long enough, all of my broken pieces might fuse back together.
It’s hard to say how much time passes, with us molded together on his couch, but my brain finally quiets enough that I feel a sense of peace again. Easing out of Nathan’s arms, my muscles are stiff but I force them to move. He hesitates, not loosening his grip for a moment, but once he realizes my intention he lets me go. I miss his embrace instantly, but I feel pretty foolish for breaking down on him. He has seen more tears from me today than I’ve cried in front of anyone. At least not since I was a child.
“I’m sorry for crying, and for getting your shirt wet,” I say, wiping my wet cheeks.
“Don’t apologize. Never for that.” He looks at me so seriously that I truly believe him. Never in my life has there been anyone to let me feel things so deeply, and with no apology for it. How is it possible that Nathan can elicit that from me within half a day? Is this some trauma bond we have together?
Maybe it’s the forced vulnerability, maybe I am just out of my mind exhausted, but I don’t think this connection we have is just circumstance. I push my hair behind my ears, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by my thoughts. My stinging wrists distract me. I hiss in pain as I move my sleeves up to my elbows, examining the raw skin the zip ties left behind.
“Shit, Callie. Stay right here, let me get something so they don’t get infected.” His concern warms me from the inside out. Is this how it feels to have someone truly care about you? I shake those thoughts away as quickly as they come. My ex did more damage than I thought if receiving basic compassion feels so unusual.
Nathan gets up and moves towards the hall bathroom, quickly returning with supplies. He sits down next to me again, so close that our knees touch. Grabbing my right hand hesitantly, he takes his time applying a thin layer of healing ointment, then wrapping it in a layer of gauze. He lays my hand down gently on my knee, repeating the same process for my left.
It hurts a little as he does it but I’m more distracted by his hand holding mine. I can feel the rough skin of his fingers against the back of my hand, his thumb pressed into my palm holding me steady. I can see the calluses on his palms from years of use. He twists my hand over slightly, steadily applying ointment to my left wrist. My eyes follow the veins on the tops of his hands that run up his forearms.
His forearms and biceps are strong, obviously so, but not in a way created at the gym, but by years of hard work. I haven’t asked about his life in the Army, but I imagine he wasn’t sitting behind a desk much. The way he holds himself and how calmly he behaved while saving me today, makes me believe he’s seen some things.
My eyes drift to his broad chest, even through his shirt I can tell how solid he is. Nathan oozes strength. He could easily overpower me but I haven’t felt an ounce of fear with him. Such a powerful man, and yet he has the lightest touch when handling me. He has shown me nothing but kindness and understanding during the most stressful day of my life.
I guess I’m not the best judge of character, Mark had me fooled long enough, but something in my gut tells me that Nathan is not that type of person. I do believe he is dangerous, deadly even, but not to me. He was willing to gun down those men before he even knew my name, not thinking twice about it. It probably wouldn’t have been the first time he took a life.
My eyes continue up their path until I am looking right into Nathan’s eyes. Not realizing he had stopped working on my wrists, he’s watching me watch him. I should look away, and apologize for staring. But I don’t, and I don’t feel the need to. He’s still holding onto my left hand and I realize I’ve absently curled my fingers around his thumb at some point.
I look down at our hands, drawing his attention there as well. He clears his throat, “You’re all set. Keep your wrists clean and they should heal soon.”
He slides his hand away from mine and stands up, taking the medical supplies back to the bathroom. As soon as he leaves the room I feel the oxygen return to my brain. What am I doing?
I need to sleep. I am behaving recklessly and not thinking clearly. Getting caught ogling a man I barely know. How embarrassing… He has done so much for me, it’s probably natural for me to be developing feelings of admiration for him. It’s just simple psychology. That’s all.
“It’s getting late. We’ll want to get a hold of the Sheriff first thing in the morning and figure out what happened to your car. I got clean sheets on the bed if you want to follow me,” he says from the hallway. He probably doesn’t want to get within reach of me so I don’t try holding his hand again. I’m so embarrassed.
I get up from the couch and follow him, trying not to make it more awkward even though I feel my cheeks flaming. He leads me to the end of the hallway, into what I would assume is his room. He seems to notice my confusion.
“I don’t have a bed in the spare room yet, you can have mine. I’ll sleep on the couch,” he explains, grabbing a pillow and blanket for himself out of the closet.
“Nathan I can’t take your bed. You’ve already done too much,” I try to argue.
“You’re injured and you’re in an unfamiliar place, the bed will be more comfortable. I’ll be fine on the couch,” he insists. Sensing I’m not ready to give in, he interjects, “I won’t be able to sleep if I know you’re in the living room alone, Callie.”
I clamp my mouth shut, stopping any excuse I have to make him take his bed back. The unspoken elephant in the room is that I’m not safe. Tony and Bub are still alive, so I might still be in danger. All I can manage is a nod, acknowledging him and my unsaid thoughts.
Walking over to the bed, I sit on the edge, defeat weighing down on me, all the way to my bones. Twenty-four hours ago I was a normal girl, living a normal life, going through a rough break up. The only tears I expected to cry today were to the sappy love songs playing during my road trip home.
Nathan stands in the doorway, holding onto the handle like he isn’t sure if he should stay or go. I’m not sure if I want him to stay or go either. It’s so conflicting, accepting that I enjoy having him around but knowing that this is only temporary. I can’t rely on him too much, because once I leave I’ll be on my own again, like usual.
“If you need anything…” His sentence trails off. I give another nod in his direction. He closes the door and I listen to his footsteps fading down the hallway.
Suddenly feeling too warm, I take off the hooded sweatshirt and throw it over the bedpost at the foot of the bed. Still wearing Nathan’s Army t-shirt and shorts, I peel back the blankets and crawl into the bed. I stare at the ceiling, for what feels like hours. Without my phone, and no clock in the room, there is no way for me to tell what time it is.
My mind is racing but I can’t focus on any specific thought. It’s like I’m stuck in a small room with a million people, being pushed and pulled in every direction, but never making it any closer to the door.
Giving up on solving any of my life problems tonight, I turn over and bury my head in Nathan’s pillow, forcing myself to fall asleep knowing tomorrow will be another stress-filled day. The last thing I remember thinking before drifting to sleep is how much I enjoy the smell of his pillow, the smell of him.
Chapter Fourteen
