Dissonance - Book One

thirty-two

I grab a towel from the rack and timidly step out of the shower, not just because I'm so tired that I'm worried I might slip, but I'm nervous for Wyler to see me nearly naked. He's sitting quietly on the bed.

"Here," he says, standing up and bringing me a stack of clothes that he's removed from the closet. I stumble over the lip of the shower, but Wyler reacts quickly, tossing the clothes on the bed and catching me in his arms.

"Sorry," I say, embarrassed. "I think I'm pretty tired."

"Whoa!" he replies, as he notices my black and blue shoulder. He reaches for it. His touch is soft and tender and I want to fall asleep right then and there; safe and warm in his arms.

"It looks worse than it is," I say, trying to downplay the injury. I gather the clothes from the bed. "Thanks, do you mind?" Again, I point for him to spin around.

"What if you fall again? Who's going to catch you?" he asks playfully.

I give him my, "you've got to be kidding me" look.

"Fine," he concedes, reluctantly turning around.

I put on a pair of black underwear and a black sports bra. Luckily, they fit. That is, if it is indeed luck. There's an olive green tank top and a pair of khaki pants that fit perfectly. It seems a little odd that everything just happens to be the correct size.

"All done," I say as I pull my wet hair from out of the tank top and let it fall down my back.

Wyler looks me up and down. My heart races as his eyes scan my body. He reaches his hand out to touch my face, but he flinches in pain. That's when I notice that blood has seeped through his clean shirt already. I had forgotten a moment about his injury. I rush to his side and lift his arm up and wrap it around my neck.

"We need to get that taken care of. Come on." I motion with my head towards the bed.

I help him over, even though he probably doesn't need it. However, he seems more than willing to accept my assistance, especially since it involves his arm around me. I open the drawer and pull out the gauze, bandages, hydrogen peroxide and an antiseptic cream. I set all the items on the mattress.

"You sure you're okay to do this," he asks. "You seem pretty out of it."

I roll my eyes and ignore his comment.

"Lift up your shirt. Let's see how bad it is."

He has difficulty lifting his arm above his head so I help remove his shirt. My hands graze the side of his body as I lift it higher. The blood is crusty, causing the shirt to stick to the wound.

"This might hurt a little," I say, and he nods for me to proceed. I have to pull hard to get the shirt to detach from the bloody wound. Wyler tries not to react to the pain. Seeing his bare chest again, makes my entire body tingle. His abs are perfect. He's perfect, and I wonder how I had been able to hide my feelings for so long. It was easier to keep how I felt hidden when I thought my feelings were one-sided, but now that I know they are reciprocal...I shake the inappropriate thoughts from my mind and try to focus on cleaning his wound.

"Hold still," I say, as I pour some of the hydrogen peroxide on his injury. He winces.

"Sorry," I say, cringing as blood bubbles up. "That may have been a bit too much."

"Just promise me you won't become a nurse," he smiles.

He's joking, even now while he's injured, even while he has no idea where Lex has been taken, even while we are trapped in God knows where, God knows how many feet underground. Humor is a defense mechanism for Wyler, one that he developed after his dad left.

"It's still bleeding pretty bad."

"It's fine," he insists.

"Lex will kill me if I let you bleed out," I joke, hoping he'll listen to me, as I wrap the wound. "There," I say, as I finish, pressing the gauze lightly to ensure it is secure. My touch is cold, but it's warmed by the heat radiating from his chest. He places his hand over mine. I try not to look up, try not to let his eyes meet mine.

"Wyler, Lex might..." I begin, but I stop myself. I can't fight this anymore, not because I'm tired, but because I don't want to. He grabs my chin with his index finger and tilts it up to meet his gaze. I know Lex could come walking in at any moment, but I no longer care. For so long I've been worried about what others think or feel, often putting my own wants and needs aside, but I'm not going to do that any longer. After all, if the world is ending, what is the point?

"Ever," he says softly. "I'm yours. I always have been."

My heart melts at his words and I feel tears well up in my eyes. The last couple days have been too much. There is too much to process. I've lost everything and it seems in addition to trying to survive one disaster after another, there is someone out there after us, after me. I'm barely holding it together and his words break me. My knees feel weak and I begin to loosen my hold on his wound, but he draws me nearer, pulling my forehead to his.

"My heart has never fully belonged to anyone other than you. As soon as we get out of here and we get somewhere safe, we're telling Lex. I don't want to pretend anymore. I don't want her," he pauses. "I want you, Ever Lewis." His lips gently brush against mine, but I pull away as his last words wash over me and something registers in my brain. Before I can speak, there is a commotion in the hallway and we both instinctively jump, looking towards the door. The noise snaps me back to reality. What am I doing? I need to focus and a shirtless Wyler isn't helping with that.

"We need to hurry," I say, as I quickly help Wyler back into his shirt.

"What's the rush all of a sudden?"

"Oh, you mean, besides psycho one and psycho two who were pointing guns at our heads earlier?"

"I'm pretty sure they were just trying to intimidate us."

"That's not what concerns me."

"Then what is it?"

"We shouldn't be here."

Wyler's eyes are on me as I scan the room looking for a way out. I can tell he trusts me; that he understands there's something bigger happening here.

"Those guys aren't who they say they are. When you said my name, it clicked. In the elevator, there was something Cavanaugh said that didn't make any sense."

My eyes and ears scan the room as the commotion gets louder. He's staring at me, waiting for my response.

"He called me Miss Lewis."

"Okay, so what? It's a little formal, but other than that, what's the big deal?"

"I never told him my last name."