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  “We’ll find you!” she shouted after him. “Ben and I. We’ll come after you, Spider!”

  Henry/Spider shook his head, stepping back. “Too dangerous…”

  “No!”

  The world rocked around her again. Face, meet floor. The stinging odor of ammonia burned her nose and shook her awake with streaming eyes and coughs. Marco patted her back gently.

  “You okay?” he asked, gripping her arm to help her up. “You need a doc?”

  Tovah shook her head. “No. I’m okay. It just hurts.”

  “Hurts a lot,” offered Alonzo from his place across the room.

  She looked around. A whirlwind had swept through the lounge while she’d been passing out. Sandra bit her fingernails in the corner across from Alonzo while the young man in flannel had disappeared.

  “Henry?” Tovah asked.

  Marco pointed to the far side of the room, where Henry sagged in the arms of two orderlies. “He’s been sedated.”

  “Is that…” She shook her head, knowing nothing she could say would take back the drugs they’d already given him. “Will he be okay?”

  Marco shrugged. “As okay as he can be, I guess. You sure you’re all right? That looks bad.”

  She looked at the fresh red roses blooming on her pants. “Damn.”

  “Let me bring you some gauze, at least.” Marco stood, towering over her.

  “No. It’ll be fine until I can get home.” The lie clicked from behind her teeth. She didn’t want Marco fussing. She needed to get home, get into bed.

  Find Ben.

  “You sure?” Marco looked skeptical. His strong fingers unpinned the fabric and probed the top edge of the bandages, heedless of her hiss of pain or the fact he might be taking liberties. “I think one of the docs should see this. Really.”

  Again, she shook her head. “No. Really. I fell last night and it just got bumped now. I’m really okay. Hurts a lot, but—”

  “A lot,” called Alonzo.

  Tovah and Marco shared a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

  He stood and helped her onto her crutches. “Okay, but I’m going to walk you to your car.”

  That was an offer she knew better than to refuse. Tovah paused in the doorway, watching as the orderlies assisted Henry down the hall toward his room. Her heart ached even as her head throbbed with what had happened. With Marco’s strong grip, she made it down to her car without incident, though by the time she collapsed into the driver’s seat her sound leg was quivering with strain and her arms had become lead weights.

  “You can drive, right?” Marco tapped the top of the car. “You’re good?”

  “I’m good.”

  He nodded, still looking skeptical, but backed off. She waited until he’d gone inside the front doors before she gave in to the sob that had been lodged in her throat for the past ten minutes. Only one. It barked out of her, and she rested her head on the steering wheel, willing her body not to betray her until she could get home.

  She barely made it.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  By the time Tovah pulled into her driveway, hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel, her vision had blurred with the effort of operating the vehicle. She put the car in park and turned off the ignition, then closed her eyes and took long, slow, deep breaths to get herself under control.

  The porch seemed very far away. The stairs insurmountable. She’d have to take the ramp and it would make her journey twice as long, but unless she crawled on her hands and knee, dragging her injured leg behind her, she wasn’t going to make it any other way.

  She wanted to cry but refused to allow it. She only had to get inside. Get some ice. Put her feet up—the one remaining and the one she no longer had but could still feel. And yet, she couldn’t quite make herself open the door, grab the crutches and get out. She did pull the keys from the ignition and put them in her fist, but that was as far as she got.

  Just a minute more. She’d sit a minute more. Gather her strength.

  She’d grayed out a bit again when the rapping of knuckles on her window glass woke her with a start. She looked over, expecting the fireman. Smoke. The crunch of glass and metal.

  “Tovah?” Martin looked concerned. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, but realized that wasn’t going to be a good enough answer. She pushed open the driver’s door, and Martin stepped away to let her. He grabbed the door as it swung open, though, and stepped to the inside of it.

  Martin barely looked twice at the blood on her pants. He looked into her eyes, instead. “Are you all right?”

  She meant to say yes, but shook her head. No. “Could you help me get inside?”

  Martin didn’t waste time with a verbal answer. She was in his arms before she knew it, the breath squeaking out of her as he lifted her like she weighed nothing. Her arms went around his neck at once to keep from falling…and because it seemed utterly natural that’s where they should go. Martin didn’t bother with her crutches, just shut the car door with his foot and carried her up the stairs to her front door.

  “Key?” He didn’t even sound winded.

  Tovah held it up and he turned her so she could fit it into the lock. The screen door threatened to cause them trouble but Martin navigated that, too. Max was already barking when they entered the hall. He ignored Tovah’s commands to shush but stayed out of the way as Martin took her directly to the den and settled her on the couch.

  He propped her with pillows. He disappeared into her kitchen. When he came back he brought the tackle box of first-aid supplies she’d left on her kitchen table and an ice bag from the freezer. He pulled the ottoman close and lifted her sound foot onto it.

  And then, he sat in front of her and took care of her.

  Her first response was to go stiff when he reached for the folded leg of her sweatpants and worked open the large safety pin holding it closed. Her hands went automatically to push his away. Her mouth opened to say no.

  But then Martin looked at her, his fingers gentle on the skin of her thigh as he pushed up the loose fabric of her sweatpants. Tovah relaxed a spare inch against the back of the couch. Martin pushed the hem past the edge of her stained cotton sock. With an unhesitant touch he slid it free and unbound the damp bandages beneath. He shook his head slightly at the sight of the damage, but when he looked into her face, his eyes weren’t pitying.

  “You fell?”

  She nodded and winced as those strong hands probed. “Last night. And I got knocked into, today.”

  Martin pulled away the gauze and used antiseptic cleaner on a fresh pad to cleanse the seeping splits in her skin. It stung less when he did it than when she had. He pushed gently along a few of her wounds. Tovah found it easier to watch him when he wasn’t looking at her. He had good hands.

  He caught her looking as he reached for the ice packs and the hand towels. He watched her face as he carefully slid the ice around her stump, making sure to keep the soft fabric of the towel between her skin and the freezer pack. Tovah didn’t look away.

  “Want to tell me about it?” he asked in a low voice.

  “I got up in the night to go to the bathroom and forgot I wasn’t wearing my leg. Stupid.” The lie tasted bitter.

  Martin started putting the supplies back in the tackle box with swift, efficient movements. “And the bump?”

  “I went to see Henry.”

  Martin looked up, his hands pausing in their organization. “You did?”

  “Yes. He was awake. But…agitated.”

  Martin closed the lid. “He hurt you?”

  “He didn’t mean to. He was running away from Marco, and he bumped me. But it was enough to start it bleeding again.”

  “And it hurt.” Martin’s face shadowed. “He hurt you.”

  “It wasn’t like that. Henry’s my friend. He was just confused.”

  Martin nodded after a moment and busied himself with the tackle box. “Henry’s a sick man. You’re right. I’m sure he didn’t know what he was doing.”