Storm

Chapter Fifty-Four

When I woke up, I was immediately aware of the bright morning light shining through the small windows above Noah's couch.

My head hurt.

Somebody was cooking something in the kitchen.

I could tell, not only from the smell, but from the sound of metal on metal.

"You're stupid as hell," came Noah's voice from the direction the smell was wafting.

I groaned and pushed myself up. The room looked the same as it had last night, although all the boxes of take out had been thrown out.

My leg was also in pain. I guess all of the medicine I'd taken last night had worn off.

Noah was at the stove, mixing something up in a pan. His back was towards me, but I could feel his disappointment from where I sat.

"I didn't go through all that work just for you to run off like that. Where were you even headed?" he asked. I shifted so my good foot was on the ground. My back hurt from the way I'd been laid down on the couch last night. I couldn't complain.

"I'm sorry," I croaked out, before yawning. It was hard to remember what I'd even been thinking the night before. I mean...what was I going to do? Run to the border and make sure Asten wasn't dead? I would probably get shot in a more sensitive place if they saw me.

And Noah still didn't know that. He didn't know that I was literally a bomb in his home.

"You're not allowed to move, okay?" he added, glancing at me and eyeing the way I was sitting. I put my hands in the air innocently. I definitely would not be moving.

And judging by how my leg looked, it would be a while before I'd be able to again. I grimaced. It was re-wrapped, meaning I'd actually messed it up in attempting to walk last night. And judging by the pain that was radiating through me, it was bad.

He paused his cooking for a moment and grabbed something from his pocket. It was a familiar orange pill bottle. Then, he filled a glass with water, and headed towards me.

I looked at the stove and raised my eyebrows. "Shouldn't you be watching that?"

He just gave me a look that told me to shut up.

"Okay, okay...I'm really sorry," I said. I worried it came out ungenuine, as I was extraordinarily tired.

"Right," he stated, obviously still unhappy. He sat down on the living room table and faced me. He held the pill bottle up for me to see. "In case you were not previously aware, which I severely doubt, you should not be popping these like Tic Tacs. These will literally kill you. You got me? Like, dead, dead."

He raised his eyebrows at me, waiting for some form of confirmation. I nodded obediently.

"Okay, we got that over with. You're not going to take any of these unless I give you permission to." He popped open the cap and tapped out a single pill, which he then handed to me with the glass of water. "Like right now."

I looked from him to the pill and back again. Then, I slowly took it and swallowed it down.

"Also, I already said this, but no standing. Not for a day or two. Because that thing needs to heal."

"Um...how will I-?"

He cut me off before I even finished. "Yes, you can use the bathroom. But that's literally it. And Emma or I will help you to get there."

I went quiet, and sat there just looking at him. He shoved the pill bottle in his pocket. I had to say something, though. I couldn't just leave things at that.

"I do mean it, though...," I started. "I'm sorry. I really am. I just needed to get out. I didn't think that all that would happen. I seriously didn't..."

He let out a long sigh, and clasped his hands in front of him. "I know. I mean, I didn't really know why you left until you just said it now. But I get it. You just have to be careful. I didn't go through all this work to drag you to my apartment just for you to kill yourself. I also don't know how to hide a body, unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" I asked, wincing a little.

He just shrugged. "Hey, you never know when it could be useful," he joked, cracking the first smile I'd seem him give that morning.

He started to stand, but there was still one more thing. One thing that I hadn't told him.

"Wait," I called out.

He stopped. "Yes? You may want to make it quick though, so the eggs don't burn."

I just needed to blurt it out. No going back. "I don't know if you want to keep me here."

He narrowed his eyes for a second, then put his hands on his hips. "I know what you're going to say."

"No, really. That's why I need to leave. If I stay here..." I was concerned he wouldn't get it. He didn't understand the sort of trouble I could get him in just by his holding me here.

He took a second, then responded. "Look, I don't care what you're going to say. I don't care what sort of beef you have with whoever. I don't even care if you're secretly going to try to kill me in my sleep...I mean, I would care a little, but you get my point. You're hurt. You need help. If I kick you out onto the street, you probably won't make it. That's frankly obvious after last night. You don't know this city like I do, or the people here who would take advantage of you. You're staying here and you're going to let me help you, whether you like it or not. If you're truly sorry, you'll do that for me."

I struggled to come to terms with what he was saying. He couldn't truly mean that. "But what do you get out of this?" I asked.

He just smiled sadly, before answering. "Do I need to get something out of it?"