N. Walters - Finding Chrissten

He loved the feel of her hand on his face. Didn’t want her to take it away. Ever. “Yeah, but not as much as the rest of me does.”

The small sound of distress she made hurt him. He managed to move his hand enough so he could touch her arm. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be fine in a day or two. Good as new.”

She closed her eyes and when she opened them there were tears in them. Like most males, he hated to see a woman cry, but most especially this woman. “I’m fine. Really.” Hell, he’d promise her anything if it would keep her from crying.

He tried to sit up. Big mistake. Pain shot down his spine and radiated out. He gritted his teeth together and swore as he lay back down.

“Easy. You shouldn’t be moving. Not yet. You were really hurt badly and you lost a lot of blood.” Chrissten chewed on her bottom lip. He could tell she was worried about him. He didn’t want her to see him as weak. His lack of strength frustrated him.

“Doesn’t matter.” He took a deep breath, ignoring the beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. No doubt about it, moving wasn’t a smart idea.

“How are you feeling?” Hank figured it was a good idea to change the subject.

She moved away from him and sat back in the chair. He missed her immediately and wished she was still touching him. “I’m doing okay.”

And that told him exactly nothing. She’d say she was fine even if she wasn’t. He knew she wouldn’t want to be seen as weak, as a victim. “I don’t see how you can be okay,” he countered. “You were kidnapped, not once, but twice. Beaten, starved, experimented on and hurt.” He didn’t say raped. He couldn’t get the words past his lips.

No, he wasn’t sorry for killing Brian. Not in the least. If ever a wolf had needed killing it was him.

A sad little laugh escaped her and she scrubbed her hands over her face. “Not exactly a prize, am I?”

“I didn’t say that,” he quickly countered. “You’re a strong woman. You had to be to survive what you did. Hell, you were ready to take on the entire pack by yourself when I got there. I saw the pantry door opening. What the fuck were you thinking?” In spite of his best intentions to remain calm, his voice rose at the end. What was wrong with him? He never had trouble maintaining his cool. Of course, that was before Chrissten had stumbled into his life and made a mockery of his self-control.

She frowned and crossed her arms under her chest. He tried not to notice how that action plumped her breasts up. He really did. He might be injured, but he wasn’t dead. And the V-neck of her cotton top gave him a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage.

“I was thinking I wasn’t going to be anyone’s captive. Not again. I was going to escape or die trying.”

It was then he noticed the bandages around her wrists and the reddish scars that disappeared under the long sleeves of her top. She’d been injured too.

“How bad were you hurt?” He’d kick his own ass if he had the strength. How could he not have asked about her injuries immediately?

She narrowed her gaze and he admired the flash of heat in her blue eyes. Was there anything sexier than a strong woman who was thinking about giving her man hell? He didn’t think so.

Of course, he wasn’t her man. Not yet. Maybe not ever. That thought sobered him quickly.

“My wrists and arms mostly and a couple of places on my back. Nothing too serious. I’ve got bumps and bruises and a mild concussion, but I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

Hank worried about her even though he knew she’d hate that. She’d still been recovering from her first ordeal when she’d been kidnapped again. She needed to be taken care of until she built her strength up again.

“Have you slept? Eaten?”

She nodded. “A bit of both. My brothers and Meredith saw to that.”

Relief flooded him. Of course her family would make sure she was taken care of. And he could count on Meredith as well. That woman mothered everyone she met.

“What about your father?” He had a vague memory of seeing Donovan Brody fighting alongside the pack.

“What about him?” Chrissten plucked at a loose thread on the blanket. “He helped rescue me. I appreciate that, but it doesn’t really change how I feel about him.”

“You don’t know him.” There was no judgment in Hank’s voice. As far as he was concerned it was her choice if she wanted to pursue a relationship with her father or not.

“I know he’s domineering and stubborn and authoritative.”

Hank couldn’t fight back a small grin. “All that?”

“He’s male,” came her dry reply.

They sat without speaking for several minutes, each of them lost in thought. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but a contemplative one. Hank was putting off the inevitable conversation. He freely admitted he was being a coward. That didn’t sit well with him. He’d never turned away from the hard tasks before and wasn’t about to start now.

“What happened? After?” He had to know. His last memory was of being carried out of the fight by Isaiah. Not exactly the way to project strength to the woman he wanted to mate with. But there was nothing he could have done differently. His body had simply given out.

Chrissten pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The blanket slipped to the floor, forgotten. “The pack left and Joshua and my father took care of the bodies. I’m not sure what they did with them and I don’t want to know. Oh, and Michael picked up your gear from where you had it stashed.” She motioned to the closet and he gave a sigh of relief. He’d wondered what happened to his guns and knives. No need to leave evidence lying around a potential crime scene.

“Damek bought the building.”

“What? Why?” The vampire continually surprised Hank.

She nibbled on her lower lip. He wanted to nibble on it for her and then soothe it with his tongue. And right on cue his dick stirred. He was definitely on the mend. He ignored his growing erection and concentrated on the conversation at hand.

“He said it would help him control the crime scene. He plans to use his own people to tear it down and get rid of any remaining evidence. He said it was safer than burning the building down. That would only bring in the fire department and the police and no one wants that.”

That made sense to Hank. But this was a werewolf problem not a vampire one. Why Damek would feel the need to clean up the mess was beyond him, but he was damn grateful for it.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He blurted out the words before he could talk himself out of it. Time to lay his cards on the table. “I’m sorry you had to watch me rip out Brian’s heart. But I’m not sorry I did it. I just wish you hadn’t had to see it.” And he wished he’d never had to witness the look of sheer horror on her face when he’d done it. “I know you must look at me differently now.”

Chrissten couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Hank was apologizing to her for saving her life. The man lay flat on his back in bed, suffering from blood loss and injuries because he’d fought for her life and he was telling her he was sorry. Oh, not for protecting her, but because she’d had to witness it.

“I’m sorry too,” she blurted out. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. “Are you okay? Are you hurting anywhere?” Stupid question. Of course he was hurting. Everywhere. His back and chest and been shredded by sharp claws. The slashes were closed now but the thick red scars remained.

“I’m fine. Maybe you should get some rest. I’m fine by myself.”

Her heart squeezed tight. He didn’t want her here. And why should he? She’d forced him to kill, to rip out another wolf’s heart. He was a fighter, a warrior. She knew that and accepted it. But he had a code of honor. He was one of the good guys and he’d almost died because of her.