The Thief (Black Dagger Brotherhood #16)(36)

So yes, ghosts did take showers. If they wanted to—and sometimes it felt good to pretend she was normal…to make like she had to wash her hair for it to look good, had to clean her body, had to exfoliate, for godsakes.

There was a reason for rituals. When you were lost in your own life, they provided a false structure, like paper walls for your house of cards, the illusion that things were predictable and safe sometimes the only thing that got you through.

Grabbing the Biolage, she got too aggressive with her squeeze and ended up with a palmful of shampoo, but she wasn’t going to waste it.

Not like doing this at all wasn’t a waste in the first place—

As she slapped the load on the top of her head, the knock on the outside door was loud enough so she could hear it over the falling water. “Yes?” she called out.

“He’s awake again,” Ehlena answered.

Jane pulled the curtain back and stuck her head around. “Assail is back?”

The nurse leaned into the room and smiled. “He is! And he’s not having a seizure. He’s taking water.”

Jane pushed dripping suds back into her hairline. “I’m sorry…what?”

“You heard me. Through a straw.”

“Oh, my God, that’s fantastic—but do not remove the restraints. We’ve got a long way to go. I’m coming right out—”

“No, it’s fine.” Ehlena swept a chill-out hand through the air. “Take your time, I’ll let you know if there’s an emergency—”

“They need me—”

“Jane. It’s fine. I’ll come and get you if anything happens. Enjoy your shower.”

Jane closed the curtain sharply and started to rinse the shampoo. “I just need a minute!”

Jumping back out, she rushed to dry off and get her clothes on again, nearly leaving without putting on her socks-and-Crocs. Running down the hall, she—

Pulled up short.

Manny was standing outside of Assail’s patient room with Ehlena. But he wasn’t smiling.

“What’s wrong?” Jane asked. “Is he arresting? Let me see—”

“No.” Manny stepped into her way. “You don’t need to go in there right now.”

Jane frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“You and I are going to take a little walk. Ehlena is going to stay here and monitor things. If we’re needed, she’ll come get us.”

“What is this about?” Jane looked back and forth between them. Then shook her head. “Whatever, I’m just going to check on—”

Manny put a hand on her arm. “I’ve checked everything. He’s conscious. His vitals are stable, if a little on the low side, and he’s still restrained. There is no reason for you to go in there. You’ll only be interrupting them.”

Jane opened her mouth. Closed it with a grind. “I don’t see what the problem is.”

“And that is precisely why you and I are going to talk.”

Manny steered her in a circle and led her away from the clinic—and with each step, the compulsive need to go into that patient room and just…do something…made her want to scream.

“This is ridiculous.” She glared at her partner. “I mean, what is this, an intervention?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, it is.”

As she faltered, he swept her along, forcing her to keep up or get dragged. And then they were all the way down by the pool, Manny opening the way into the humidity and warmth. He let her go first, and she was so pissed off, she walked ahead with hard footfalls, crossing over the tiled anteroom and entering the pool proper with its lofty ceiling and Olympic-sized lanes.

She wheeled around on him. “Are you saying there is something wrong with my patient care? I’m a goddamn good doctor and an even better surgeon. You have nothing to complain about—”

“There is no nice way to say this, Jane.”

“What the hell are you—”

“You’ve lost your objectivity.” He put his hands on his lean hips, his handsome face serious. “You’re down here too much—you’ve worked yourself into a state past exhaustion, and sooner or later, you are going to make a mistake.”

For a moment, all she could do was stare at the man like he was a stranger. And yet he wasn’t one. He was still the big, tall, dark-haired guy she had been in the trenches with for years, Hawkeye to her Hunnicutt.

“I cannot believe I’m hearing this from you,” she snapped. “You’re working all the time, too.”

“I take breaks. I sleep with my wife. I see her every day—”

“Do not make this about Vishous. Don’t you dare turn this into a personal issue—”

“It is a personal issue, Jane. As well as a professional one.”

“Whatever, I am doing important, necessary work here. I give everything to my patients and you know it—”

“You’re giving too much. That’s the problem.” He put his hand up when she went to cut him off. “No, you’re going to listen to me. And then when I’m through, you can tell me to fuck off, if you want. But you’re going to shut up and hear me out.”

“I don’t believe this,” she muttered.