Page 135 of Fly's Path

You aren’t trash.

You aren’t trash.

“Sheri.” Fly’s voice is so low it could be a dream.

My head pops up. “Fly. You’re back.” I get up and rush to him, stopping a few steps away. “Are you hurt?”

“Nope.” He grins. “Not even a bruise.”

My mind hears the words, but my heart can’t believe them. “Show me.”

“Now?”

“Show me. I need to know that whatever happened, you’re okay. They didn’t hurt you.”

He pulls his shirt over his still-wet hair.

Slowly, I walk around him, tracing my fingers across his unblemished skin, stopping slightly before I reach the mottled skin that was previously bruised. “You’re okay?”

“Physically.”

What does that mean? This isn’t a discussion we should be having at the front door. I take his hand in mine, grabbing the blanket from the chair where I left it. “Come with me.” I start walking without waiting for him to say yes. The need to get him safely ensconced on the lounger in the grotto overwhelms me.

It also makes no sense, but I’m past caring about sense now. I’m overtired…to the point of collapse. Worried. And all the other weird emotions that I can’t handle and don’t want to name right now.

“Climb in.” I point at what I now consider our chair in the grotto.

“Yes, My Royal Highness.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“It’s one of my best features.”

That, I’d disagree with, especially since he didn’t put his shirt back on.

“Are you going to join me, or are you going to keep standing there staring?” A small smile spreads across his face.

“I’ll stare as long as I want, because I spent the entire night worrying that you were dead.”

“Sheri, come here.” He holds his arms out to me, and I practically fall into them, crying. “I’m okay. No one hurt me.”

“They could have,” I mutter into his chest.

“Nah. They would have had to go through Maverick first. And it would probably take an atomic bomb to move that man.”

“Really? You’re okay?”

“I am now.” He squeezes me tight. “Everything is going to be alright. I can breathe now with you in my arms.”

What does that mean?

“Did you sit by the door waiting for me the whole time?”

Um…“No.”

He lifts me up so that we’re staring into each other’s eyes. “Were you running?”

“Not a lot…My legs gave out.”