Page 19 of Morgue

“Yeah. Give it a few more hours. The fluids will help.”

She managed another small smile. “I believe you. I think they’ve helped already.”

“That and the ibuprofen. Once this goes in, I can remove the IV if you like. Or I can disconnect the bag and leave it in case you need more tomorrow. Would save you a stick.”

She nodded. “I think that will be best. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Honey, nothing is too much trouble to make you comfortable and to help you heal. But I’d feel better leaving it in, to be honest.”

It took another half hour for the bag to finish. Stitches taped up her IV site so she didn’t get it caught on anything, then left us. Dorothy didn’t move, but I knew she probably needed to use the bathroom.

When I shifted on the couch, she whimpered and clung tighter. Sparkle lifted her head and whined slightly, licking at Dorothy’s ankle again.

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere. Just thought I’d carry you to the bathroom. Do your business and we’ll go to bed.”

“You promise you won’t leave?” She looked up at me with pleading eyes and my heart melted.

“No fuckin’ way I’ll ever leave you, Dorothy. I’m yours as long as you want me.” Again, her eyes filled with tears, and I panicked. “I mean, I’m not gonna force myself on you or anything. I just mean I’ll protect you. Always.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck and the fucking tears started again. She pressed herself close to me as she cried. Every single tear felt like a dagger to my heart. Dorothy was clinging to me, so I held her tighter. If she didn’t want me, surely she’d push me away. There was no way to let her go when she was so distressed.

“Do you promise?”

“Yes. I won’t leave. I told you.”

“No.” She shook her head but didn’t pull away. “That you’re mine. As long as I want you.”

I narrowed my gaze on her. “I fuckin’ promise, Dorothy. I Goddamn fuckin’ promise.”

Chapter Seven

Dorothy

Three weeks later…

“Morgue?” For the first time in weeks, I woke up alone. Even when he woke up before me, Morgue was always at my side. Just like he’d promised, he didn’t leave me. “Morgue!”

“In here, honey.” His muffled voice came from the bathroom where I now heard the shower running. My heart rate slowed, and relief flooded through me. He’d left the bathroom door open. I should have known. He was never more than a room away, and never with anything between. Not even a closed door unless he told me why, which was always the bathroom. Anything else, he did with me in the room.

I was lucky. So very fucking lucky to have Morgue with me. If I needed a reminder of that fact, all I had to do was spend time with the other women they’d pulled out of that place. All of them were scared of their shadows. When I looked into their eyes, I saw women who’d given up hope. They’d accept their fates, whatever they were, and wouldn’t lift a finger to defend themselves. They all needed protectors like Morgue, but I wasn’t giving him up. Not for the other women. Not for anyone.

I climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom, leaning against the door. The shower walls were clear but fogged with condensation from the hot water. I’d watched Morgue shower every day, and I never got tired of looking at his naked body.

He was thickly muscled. Tall and powerful. Not for the first time, I wanted the right to trace all those muscles with my hands and lips. I never thought I’d feel this way about a man after my captivity, and I probably never would about anyone else. But Morgue? Yeah. I really wanted him to be mine. I wanted to be his. He never gave me any indication he was sexually attracted to me, and I think that hurt more than I was willing to admit.

“Are you watching me again?” Morgue didn’t pause as he washed his hair and beard. Ducking under the spray, he rinsed away the shampoo, scrubbing his hands over his head and face.

“Do you mind?”

“You know I don’t.”

I took a tentative step toward the shower before I could stop myself. Taking the collar of his T-shirt I wore in my fingers, I tucked my thumb into the material and brought it to my nose. I always stole his shirt after he took it off at the end of the day. It smelled like him, and I loved having the scent surrounding me. Not that it mattered much what I wore. By the time we woke up each morning, his scent was on anything I wore. It often made me wonder if my skin would smell like his if we both slept naked. Fanciful thinking, I knew, but the more time I spent with Morgue, the more I realized that, even if we’d met under different circumstances and I didn’t see him as anything but who he was and not my hero, I’d still want him with every fiber of my being.

He rarely smiled, was surly as a goat, and as antisocial as anyone I’d ever met. But he was loyal and honorable. He kept his word to me, no matter what he had to do. I was helpless to guard my heart from him, even if I tried.

“Would you mind if I joined you?” I have no idea where I found the courage to ask that question, but I wanted permission to be in there with him.

Morgue faced me, shaking his head and slinging water in all directions. He scrubbed a hand over his face, wiping water out of his eyes. He placed his other palm on the clear shower wall, giving me his front. There was no disguising his interest. His cock stood at attention in the nest of dark curls at his groin.