Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
That was the reason I was fast becoming obsessed with Theo. I needed a good fuck; that was all.
I actually laughed out loud at the ridiculous notion before flopping on my back so I could stare at the ceiling. Cam and Ford had put me in one of the two rooms on the third floor of the old farmhouse they were in the midst of remodeling. My room was spacious and simply furnished, and even though Cam and Ford had invited me to decorate the room in any way I wanted, I hadn’t touched a thing.
Mostly because the room was perfect as it was.
But also because it wasn’t mine.
I needed to remember that.
I needed to remember that I wasn’t home… that I wasn’t truly part of the weirdly perfect little family Cam and Ford had created.
The nature of my work didn’t allow me to stay in one place for too long, and I was perfectly content with that.
Yes, I was.
“Jesus,” I muttered as I threw the covers off and dropped my legs to the floor. I ran my fingers through my loose hair before searching out the small black hair tie on my nightstand.
A resounding thump had me pausing.
Silence.
It was probably the house settling. Old houses tend to do that.
Even as I mentally said the words, I was climbing to my feet, hair tie forgotten. I cast a glance at my bedroom door but didn’t move toward it, choosing instead to follow my gut and head for the bathroom. I listened for the sound of running water or the toilet flushing but didn’t hear anything.
It was only when I pressed my ear up to the small gap between the door and the frame that I heard it.
Crying.
No, not just crying.
Sobbing.
Sobbing that someone was trying very hard to muffle.
“Theo?” I called quietly as I gently rapped my knuckles on the door. I was too on edge to even give him time to answer before I grabbed the doorknob and turned it, hoping like hell that it would move beneath my fingers.
It did.
The sight that greeted me would haunt me forever.
Theo was crouched in the corner where the tub met the wall. His right side was against the tub while his forehead was pressed against the wall. His legs were tucked up against his body so that he was basically seated in the fetal position. I couldn’t see his face but there was no missing the little drops of blood on the edge of the vanity as well as the tiled floor.
“Theo,” I repeated as my brain switched over to nurse mode. Fear curled in my belly in the few seconds it took to reach him. I dropped to the floor next to him and touched his shoulder. He instantly jerked away from me.
“I’m fine,” he whispered even as the sobs continued to rack his body. He used his left arm to wipe at his face. “I tripped,” he added as he struggled to climb to his feet.
“Stay seated,” I said, once again putting my hand on his shoulder. This time when he tried to pull away, I followed. “Did you hit your head when you fell?” I asked as I studied the parts of his body I could see. He was wearing an oversized sweatshirt that nearly reached his knees. I couldn’t tell if he was wearing shorts or underwear, though.
“I’m fine,” Theo snapped. “Please… please go.”
Despite the determination in his voice, he didn’t make another attempt to stand. He was sweating profusely even as chills racked his slim frame. Surprisingly, Theo didn’t protest when I put my palm on his forehead.
“You’re burning up,” I said.
Theo didn’t respond to the statement.
“Where’s the blood coming from, Theo?” I asked as I reached for his wrist so I could check his pulse. I glanced at his arm to see if there was any blood on the sleeve, but the material was normal. I automatically looked at his other arm, but he had it pressed between his body and the wall.
Deliberately putting it out of view.
As badly as I wanted to force him to show me the arm, I knew it would only do more harm than good, so I went a different route.
“Did you eat today?”
I hadn’t seen Theo at dinner, but I’d seen Ford taking some food upstairs for him. That didn’t mean he’d eaten it, though.
“What about water?” I asked when Theo didn’t answer about having eaten or not.
He didn’t answer the water question either.
I sighed and said, “Theo, you’re severely dehydrated, your pulse is well above the normal rate, and you’re running a fever. You need to go to the hospital—”
“No,” Theo interrupted. “No hospitals.”
“Sweetheart, you’re sick—”
“No!” Theo repeated as he struggled to get to his feet. I was mentally reprimanding myself for the very inappropriate endearment I’d used but luckily my instincts were still working because I managed to grab Theo as his knees gave out. His unsteadiness caused him to bump his right arm against the wall. He let out a harsh sob and leaned his weight into me. I put my arm around his waist to steady him and just held him as whatever pain he was feeling from jarring his arm ran its course.