"Scalpel ... Scalpel ... Selina? Scalpel, please!" Selina's preoccupied brain only registered the awkward silence that followed, not the actual words the surgeon had addressed to her.

Feeling the burn of all eyes on her instead of the patient, she nervously scanned the instrument cart and selected the tray he had most likely requested.

Agonizing moments, she held her breath till the surgeon picked the scalpel from the tray and set it to work, confirming that she'd guessed right.

Thank the nursing gods.

Also, thank the nursing gods that the cautery pencil would be next. Nothing like the smell of burned flesh to keep her brain in the moment, something she needed help with like never before.

Selina took pride in doing an excellent job.

Giving it one hundred percent of her focus wasn't something she needed reminding of, not usually, but this week ... this week, her mind couldn't be dragged from the attic room and its inhabitant. That she powered through the surgery without murdering the patient was nothing short of a miracle.

As soon as the doors to the operation quarter swung shut behind them, her colleague Anabel elbowed her ribcage. "What's up? You've been absent-minded all week. That's not like you. Anything the matter with Lowie?"

"He's staying with Keira for a few days. I miss him. You know how it is. That scalpel ... it won't happen again. It won't." It couldn't. She'd worked too damn hard to fuck up now.

Anabel picked up a clipboard from the nursing desk and started checking boxes. "I know how it is. That's not the reason."

Selina braced herself. Anabel's intuition and directness were notorious. Nothing went past her sharp observation skills. They'd been working together for about four years now, which also meant that Selina had some recollection of words to throw back at her. After all, wasn't it Anabel who had admonished her on more than one occasion not to be too hard on herself? "My mind drifted for a moment," she said, "Seems I'm human after all. I'd think you of all people should be relieved."

"I might be if I believed you. You're hiding something. Something with the new house? It's not built on a termite hill, is it?"

Selina grinned half-heartedly. If only that were it. "The house is great. Just needs a bit of work. It's going to be great."

"Have you been working on it day and night? I know you would."

"Sort of." That was not a complete lie.

"You should get out more. Meet someone. When was the last time since?" Anabel made an obscene gesture that prompted Selina to swing up her clipboard and hide her friend from public view.

"I'm not going to answer that."

"Now that's unexpected."

"No, it isn't. I never discuss my sex life."

"I expected you to blush, but you're pale as a sheet. You've been having sex, and not just casual sex, you've been having the sort of sex that bothers you."

Selina felt that. Though why was beyond her. It hadn't been sex sex. Not entirely. And it didn't bother her.

Her stomach squirmed, calling her a liar. Damn! Fuck! Bog, bog, boggit bogeymen!

She kept a straight face though, reaching for a pack of mints in the pocket of her scrubs. "You're so full of shit. What does that even mean?"

"Getting laid is not a crime, Selina. Allow yourself to enjoy it."

Selina popped a mint in her mouth and offered the pack to Anabel. "Who says I'm not?"

Anabel hummed around her mint, absolute pleasure spreading across her face. "You're such a sneaky little hussy, you."

"It's not like that. It's ..." It was exactly like that times hundred.

"It's also okay to like him, you know, or her. It's okay to let somebody in."

This conversation had been long enough and thank the nursing gods again—an elaborate offering of disinfectant and strong coffee was due for sure—so was the corridor.

With a groan, Selina butted herself through the door that would separate her from Anabel, who was scheduled for a few more hours while Selina should be heading home for her sixth night with Elias.

As if she could ever let a bogeyman in? That could never happen. She shuddered, remembering last night.

That he gave her the best orgasm in five fucking years meant nothing. If it meant anything at all, it was that it had been too long since she'd been taken to pound town. Anabel was right about that and Selina could see to that problem as soon as she had rid her house of Elias Zwarteveen. But the embrace, the kiss on her forehead, the way he made her feel ... what about that?

She didn't see him right away when she entered the attic room and still confused about the night before, she kept her distance from the bed.

"Will you not get comfortable?" His bulky silhouette emerged from a dark corner. He had the audacity to look even better than the night before, healthier, stronger, cleaner.

She remembered Lowie's description of him: icy blue eyes that don't fit, but this was no longer true.

These bright eyes fit his fair skin very well. They twinkled with mischief, the delicious sort.

The cloak of nightmares around him brimmed with a soft anticipation, eliciting a flutter in her belly. She had come to long for the moment when the black sashes absorbed all of her fears. When his scarf came down and all that terror got sucked through his fangs and became his instead of hers. There was peace in that moment.

But the moments prior ... these were the moments she dreaded. Those moments were excruciating.

Her stomach tensed and steeled itself when she thought of the snakes, the puppets ... the utter abandonment she would have to endure. She sighed.

"I'm tired. Just get it over with. No shenanigans."

"We could skip a night, if you need a rest."

"That won't be necessary."

"But you're tired."

"Tough day at work. Nothing I haven't lived through before."

"Selina?" He whirled close enough to whisper. "I can try to make it to the house next door. I'm a lot stronger than I was a week ago."

That proposal surprised her. Was he letting her off the hook? She raised an eyebrow. "Try to make it? What happens when you don't make it? When you're not strong enough?"

"I'll float right back in here, with most of my strength gone."

"Meaning I'll have to start from scratch."

"Possibly."

"Well you see why that won't do."

"I'll probably make it."

"I'd rather not take that chance, thank you very much."

"You do look tired. Did I do that?" He swept a knuckle close to the bags under her eyes, careful not to actually touch her.

"Work did that."

"Oh." He stepped back and gestured to the bed. "Well then."

"I'd rather stand."

"You know how it works. You get on the bed. I ask a question."

She dropped to the bed like a petulant teen. "Go ahead, be my guest."

"That's better. Now, I'm gonna need a minute." He slumped to the foot end and instead of prompting the question, asked, "so how tired are you exactly?"

Exhausted, beat, depleted. She'd been depleted for a long time and as her eyes drowned in the blue ocean of his, the gravity of her exhaustion pulled her under. Her body dissolved into the one-person mattress and her eyelids dropped shut.

wC 1245 words
TWC 15569 words