Page 102 of Protected from Reprisal
“Maybe you should see a specialist,” she brought up yesterday. “There could be nerve damage. I bet Tyler could get you in to see one of the best.”
“My arm’s going to be fine,” I reassured her. “I’ve been shot before, you know.”
In hindsight, maybe bringing up the other times I’ve been shot wasn’t the best idea at the time. As soon as I said it, Yara rushed off to the bathroom, and when she finally emerged, her eyes were all pink and swollen.
Which, shit. I didn’t mean to upset her. IthoughtI was helping. But when I mentioned it to Rafe in the hotel gym first thing this morning, he just shook his head. “Never bring up shit like that, Ace. It’ll never turn out well.”
“But Yara knows how it is,” I protested. “She’s been through it. She knows the dangers?—”
“It’s different now,” he interrupted. Then he smirked at me. “Being in love and all. It changes things.”
He had a point. Being in lovedoeschange things. Somehow, it makes things simultaneously more amazing and terrifying. When I’m with Yara, when I even think about her, it’s the best thing in the world. But I’m absolutely terrified of anything bad happening to her. That’s why bringing her to Iran was so fucking scary.
And shit, shewashurt, just as I feared.
But on the flip side, she had my six when I needed her. And that’s pretty fucking amazing, too.
Realizing Yara’s still staring at my arm instead of answering my question, I jostle her gently to get her attention. “Tink.”
Her eyes jump to mine. “What?”
“Stop staring at my arm. I promise, it’s not going to fall off.”
She frowns. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”
“If you keep staring at where I got hurt,” I tease, “then I’ll have to stare at where you were hit, too.” Dropping my gaze to her chest, I eyeball her breasts for a few seconds before looking back up at her. “Not that I’d complain. But I’m not sure you’d like it.”
Yara’s lips twitch. “I don’t mind when we’re home alone. But maybe not in the hospital. And probably not when we’re visiting Malik. That might be weird.”
“It might be,” I agree. “So. Now that you’re not going to stare at my arm—which, for the record, is going to be fine—why don’t you tell me why you think Malik hates you?”
She sighs. “All the reasons Davis hates me, to start. The way I was treated compared to the others. That I was rescued after three months?—”
“Three months is a long time,” I interrupt. I’m tired of Yara trying to brush it off like it’s nothing. Like because she wasn’t held as long as Davis or Malik, she didn’t suffer terribly.
“Butthree years, Ace. That’s so long.” Moisture gleams in her eyes. “He must have been wondering why I didn’t come sooner.”
“Yara. That’s just not true. No one would expect you to stage an independent rescue, even if you did know where he was. Or that he was even alive. Which you wouldn’t have known, since everyone thought he was dead.”
Well, except for Davis, that is. But he was so wrapped up in his plans for vengeance against Yara, he didn’t consider anything or anyone else. Which makes him complicit in Malik’s captivity, in my opinion. Davis had been out for six months, and he never told anyone.
But Davis is a piece of shit, so I guess I’m not surprised. Any sympathy I might have had for what he went through disappeared the second he laid a hand on Yara.
Yara looks past my shoulder at the entrance to the hospital. Then she sighs again. “Logically, I know you’re right. I just can’t help worrying that I’ll get into Malik’s room and he’ll tell me to leave.”
“Tink. You talked to him on the trip home. Why would he say that now?”
“Because he was hooked up to an IV with painkillers at the time,” she explains. “And we had just rescued him. He was overwhelmed and not thinking clearly. But now…”
Yara trails off, looking sadder than before.
“Tink.” I hug her to me, ignoring the flare of pain in my arm. “Malik does not hate you.”
“He’s probably wondering why I didn’t come the day he was admitted to the hospital.”
“The doctors said only family to start,” I remind her. “You couldn’t have seen him.”
“But what if?—”
