Avenged (Altered #2)(22)

Of course I did. But he said nothing, only shrugged and shifted to his feet, as if to avoid eye contact. She stood to help him. He gently pushed her hands away and righted himself with a stumble. But when he tried to fully straighten, he winced, fingering his left side. “Think he might have bruised this rib.”

She scowled, imagining horrible things happening to Jeremy but leaving them unsaid. She stood close enough to offer support if Nick needed it. “You shouldn’t have put yourself in danger to protect me.”

He shrugged again, but this time he held her eyes, and the corner of his mouth tilted up in a teasing grin. “Yeah, well, you’re welcome.”

Under his gaze, her face heated. Her breathing hitched, and the space between them felt heavy with tension and expectation. “Nick,” she whispered into the pregnant pause. “What’s going on here?”

What? Nothing. He shook his head, his brows dropping. I don’t know. I can’t think.

She nodded. Right. Too much. Truthfully, she didn’t know either, and she didn’t know if she wanted to think about it. They were here, alone together. Maybe it was best…

Something still nagged at her. “Why did you come for me, Nick? Really?”

He’d said he came because Seth and Blue couldn’t. It had been dangerous, and he must have known that there was a chance that he would be captured. That was a huge risk to take for someone he hardly knew. Yet, he’d risked it anyway. In their one interaction, she’d been borderline bitchy to him. So, what had made him come?

“I should have stopped him,” he offered. “I knew Jeremy was capable of anything, and I didn’t stop him.” He met her eyes, his gaze pleading. “I’m so sorry. I should have pushed harder, talked to Seth. Done something.”

“This isn’t your fault.” How could he even think that?

“Of course it is. Seth never liked the guy, and I knew that. Jeremy had gotten even worse after his disciplinary hearing. I should have kept him out of this. Or I should have watched him closer. Something.”

“You didn’t call Goldstone. You didn’t turn on your friends.”

“Of course not.” He spat the words, as if he found the thought offensive.

“Right.” She’d only known him a short time, but she couldn’t imagine that of him, either. “Jeremy did that. This is his fault. Not yours.” Only after she’d uttered the words did she realize that they applied to her, too.

This wasn’t her fault, either.

For the past few months, she’d beaten herself up for trusting Jeremy. Nick had tried to warn her, and Blue had wanted her to stay away from him, too. But no one would have guessed he would make her a hostage. “Maybe it’s time we both stop blaming ourselves for someone else’s mistakes.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

“He fooled me, too, Nick.” She smiled. “He fooled me, and I’ve paid the price. I won’t make that mistake again. But I’m sick of the guilt. It’s eating me up, paralyzing me. I don’t want to be a victim anymore.”

You’re no victim. You’re more of a survivor than you know. She was sure he’d have hid that from her if he could. He swallowed, but the action made him wince, which broke the spell between them.

He was dirty, bleeding, and obviously hurting. They could both use a break from this conversation. “You need a shower.” Leaning over, she snagged the stack of linens off the bed and held it out to him.

“Shower?” He stared at the folded fabrics, his nose wrinkled.

“You’re a mess. You need to clean those wounds. And, well”—she inhaled—“I never knew when new sheets and clothes would arrive. When they give you fresh laundry, they’ll come to collect the dirty stuff soon. But they’ll take whatever isn’t on your body. Best to get into the cleanest stuff possible.” She put the pile back down and proceeded to sort through it. “Sheets, for the cots. One blanket a piece. There are two jumpsuits, as you see. Green, not orange this time. The socks with the treads. And a bar of soap.” She wrinkled her nose. “No towels. Never any towels.”

She lifted two small plastic wrapped packets. “But new toothbrushes. So, yay.”

“Yeah, yay.” A faint smile curved his broken lips. That was good. He glanced at the corner, where the pipe protruded from the ceiling. “What do I do?”

“We’ll have to take turns. If it’s like the others, the water will be cold.” She handed him the soap. “Scrub fast, top to bottom. Try not to fall.”

He accepted the gritty bar. This wasn’t going to be pleasant. “I’ve showered on plenty of slippery floors. Military, remember?”

“So you’ve perfected the hip-width apart squat to keep your balance, then.”

He demonstrated what she described. “See? What do you think?”

She laughed, and it echoed off the concrete walls and floor. It felt good. She hadn’t truly laughed in months. Maybe longer. “Expert. Work those glutes.”

His smile slipped, and so did hers. Oh no. She’d commented on his butt. She looked down quickly, her face heating up. She was so awkward.

God, when she flushes… I have to do something. A cold shower sounds like a great idea. Suddenly, he unsnapped the top of his custodial jumpsuit.