In My Skin

CH 58 || Not Going Anywhere

The first thing I noticed was the smell of antiseptics and disinfectants. The low pounding in the back of my skull was next, but it was quickly overshadowed by the feeling of a large, warm hand wrapped around my own.

My eyes shot open. The room was dark aside from a sparse light source somewhere out of sight, bright enough to make out my surroundings.

I turned my head.

Killian's large frame was parked on one of those uncomfortable plastic hospital chairs, right next to my bed. His chin was tucked to his chest which was rising and falling evenly with every breath. He held my hand, his arm lying on the mattress.

As if he could sense my gaze, his eyelids fluttered, and he stared at me wide-eyed.

A bruise discolored his right cheek, but, to me, he'd never looked better. He regarded me with an open, almost vulnerable look on his face. That was new.

His presence here could only mean one thing. He really had shown up, which meant Angie was fine. But I had to make sure...

"Is Angie okay?" I croaked out. "And Sofia?"

A crease formed between his brows. There was an edge to his voice as he spoke, "Angie's fine. Sofia's fine. Everyone's fine. Except you, of course."

I let out a breath. "And the guy?"

"Police got him," Killian replied curtly.

That was good. But... I took in the tension in his shoulders, the hard set of his jaw, his narrowed eyes...

"Are you mad?" I asked, slowly sitting up.

"Mad?" Killian ground out, getting to his feet and right in my face, his hands dipping into the mattress on either side of me. "Of course, I am!"

The sudden close proximity was distracting, and it took me a moment to reply, "Because...I broke the promise? Or because of what happened a month ago..."

"Because you never look out for yourself," he said, eyes flashing. "Why don't you ask me if you're okay, Tay? Because you're not. Your neck is freaking blue, your back is bruised, and you nearly got a fucking concussion!"

Well, that explained why my voice sounded off. I touched the back of my head, feeling a small bump. There was no pain though. Aside from slight drowsiness, I felt good.

"I heard that sleep is a great cure for these—"

Killian silenced me with a look. Someone wasn't in the mood for jokes. Noted. Bit hypocritical but sure.

"And before you get some weird thoughts again. I'm mad about a lot of things. But not that you dumped me."

"You're not?"

"No—okay, yes. But we both didn't handle it very well. You were sick and you reacted the way you thought was best for everyone. I'm mostly mad at myself. I should've fucking skipped that stupid exam when you finally came to talk to me."

"You can't skip an exam," I said, trying to sound stern.

"Watch me," he snapped. He sat on the edge of the mattress, running his hand through his already messy hair, and continued in a less angry manner, "I knew something was off about your stalker. I should've known that some random person would behave differently. I mean, the signs were all there."

"You're acting like me. Which means you're acting stupid. Stop taking responsibility for stuff that's not your fault."

"You were damn lucky I cut the exam short anyways and saw your text!" He paused looking distraught. "But then I find you getting strangled on the floor with blood all over your face..."