Page 53 of Tar City
“I’m fine. I just need…”
She hesitates, cheeks coloring. “…pee.”
“Oh.” I clear my throat. “Right.”
I help her sit up, careful, slow. She keeps her weight light, like she’s already trying to make this easier on me.
“This is why they wanted me to stay longer,” she mutters as I lift her. “They have people for this there.”
“Yeah,” I say, carrying her to the bathroom. “But hospitals reek like sick people and death. And—well. My place only smells like beer and wet dog.”
She snorts softly. “Jax St. Clair, did you just make a joke?”
“Fuck no. I was stating a fact.”
The bathroom is small—too small. “Do you need me to…?”
“I think I can handle it from here,” she says, leaning a hand on the toilet tank.
I step out to give her privacy. I’m not even a foot away when— “Holy pitfire!”
I’m back instantly. “What? What happened?”
She’s got one hand clamped over her mouth. Her panties are halfway down her thighs. Her bare ass is right there. It takes all I have to drag my eyes up to what she’s actually staring at.
“What the hell, Jax?” she says, pointing at the floor.
The towel. Soaked. Bloody.
My spine locks up. “Fuck.” I move to grab it.
“Is that MY blood?” she asks.
The bathroom light flickers. Somewhere outside, a siren screams. I want to lie. I want to say yes, and make it smaller. I want to say anything that won’t make her look at me like this, but I can’t hide anymore.
“No.”
“Oh.” She looks at the towel again, then at me. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“No.” I cram the towel into the small trash can. “Better not to ask me questions, Sisk.”
She stiffens, then yanks her panties up in a rush. I watch it all—can’t fucking stop myself—the way the fabric drags over her skin, the way her body tightens like she knows I’m looking.
I reach for her without thinking.
“I can pull my pants up, Jax.”
I stop and pull my hands back in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry.”
I steady her anyway and it’s a fucking war not to just grab her.
“You didn’t piss,” I say, my voice low.
She shoves my hand off her hip. “Get out, Jax.”
I wait for her to call me back, but she doesn’t. The silence stretches, then I hear the toilet flush. That’s my cue.
I grit my teeth as I bring her back to the bed. My jaw aches from the effort of holding myself together. I step away fast, like distance is the only thing keeping the monster in check.
