going anywhere.” His voice grew more faint, but he continued calling back to her. She heard the sound of cabinets opening and pans and cups hitting the counter. “This is my house. You’re in my home. I’m going to take care of you. See, you’re safe. I’m not going anywhere.”
He sounded like he was talking to make sure she knew he hadn’t forgotten about her and hadn’t poofed into ether. That was nice. Very nice. Comforting.
As soon as he reappeared in the doorway, holding a large mug of something that smelled atrocious, her mind relaxed again.
Io!
She reached for him, her arms flailing out of control, heat still rippling through her limbs in waves as the pain and burn continued to subside. Instead of taking her hand, though, he knelt down beside her and lifted the mug to her lips.
“Drink,” he said. “You have to drink this.”
One whiff and she knew there was no way.
He shook his head and huffed. “You have to. You need it to detox the cobalt out. It will make you feel better.”
Her eyes snapped to his doubtfully, but she found trust and honesty in his gaze. She could trust him. He wouldn’t hurt her, and somehow he knew what was happening to her. She could tell Io had done this before.
She nodded, or at least tried to, but she probably just looked like a bobblehead for all the control she had over her muscles right now. He grinned compassionately, caressing her face with his free hand, trying to reassure her. He knew. Damn, somehow he just knew how to help her.
“Okay, drink. I’m here to catch you.”
She held her breath and let him tip the cup to her lips. Hot liquid touched her tongue and she winced before taking the fluid down her throat in heavy, disgusting gulps.
“Keep it down,” he said. “At least for a few minutes.”
Keep it down? At least for a few minutes? Oh, God. How bad was this going to be?
He emptied the cup and quickly set it aside before lifting her into his arms and holding her close in a gentle, rocking motion. She gagged at the aftertaste, but he simply kept rocking her, making shushing sounds.
Her stomach was not happy. At all.
“This is a more effective treatment for overdose and addiction than what they gave you at AKM a couple of weeks ago,” Io said. “This is much better.”
Better? She and Io would have to talk about his definition of the word better, because even though she still couldn’t talk, she could feel, and right now it felt like World War III was about to go postal in her stomach.
“Keep it down as long as you can, Miriam.”
Dear God, she was going to throw up.
Not in front of him. Please, not in front of Io.
How much more was she going to humiliate herself in front of this male who made her heart do flips at just the thought of his hands in her hair? She had nearly upchucked in front of him two weeks ago at AKM, and here she was, in his home, about to do it again. And it felt like this time would put last time to shame. Nothing like being an overachiever.
“Sssshhh,” Io said, trying to comfort her.
But she couldn’t be comforted. Her stomach was a roiling inferno. She tried to shove away from him. This was it. She couldn’t hold it back any more. Toilet, toilet…
“TOILET!”
He lifted her away from him and held her body as she lunged and heaved a mess of blue shit into the commode. Great, gasping, body locking spasms that seemed to go on forever and empty her to the point where she didn’t think she could empty any more decimated her, and still she continued to retch. Through it all, Io managed somehow to hold her body up with one arm while holding back her mane of hair with the other.
After what felt like ten minutes, she finally stopped and fell back against him in a spent heap as he flushed the toilet.
She was exhausted. The soothing chill of a damp cloth being rubbed over her face and mouth relaxed her. After he had cleaned her up, Io gently lifted her in his arms, cradled her, and carried her out of the bathroom.
He sounded like he was talking to make sure she knew he hadn’t forgotten about her and hadn’t poofed into ether. That was nice. Very nice. Comforting.
As soon as he reappeared in the doorway, holding a large mug of something that smelled atrocious, her mind relaxed again.
Io!
She reached for him, her arms flailing out of control, heat still rippling through her limbs in waves as the pain and burn continued to subside. Instead of taking her hand, though, he knelt down beside her and lifted the mug to her lips.
“Drink,” he said. “You have to drink this.”
One whiff and she knew there was no way.
He shook his head and huffed. “You have to. You need it to detox the cobalt out. It will make you feel better.”
Her eyes snapped to his doubtfully, but she found trust and honesty in his gaze. She could trust him. He wouldn’t hurt her, and somehow he knew what was happening to her. She could tell Io had done this before.
She nodded, or at least tried to, but she probably just looked like a bobblehead for all the control she had over her muscles right now. He grinned compassionately, caressing her face with his free hand, trying to reassure her. He knew. Damn, somehow he just knew how to help her.
“Okay, drink. I’m here to catch you.”
She held her breath and let him tip the cup to her lips. Hot liquid touched her tongue and she winced before taking the fluid down her throat in heavy, disgusting gulps.
“Keep it down,” he said. “At least for a few minutes.”
Keep it down? At least for a few minutes? Oh, God. How bad was this going to be?
He emptied the cup and quickly set it aside before lifting her into his arms and holding her close in a gentle, rocking motion. She gagged at the aftertaste, but he simply kept rocking her, making shushing sounds.
Her stomach was not happy. At all.
“This is a more effective treatment for overdose and addiction than what they gave you at AKM a couple of weeks ago,” Io said. “This is much better.”
Better? She and Io would have to talk about his definition of the word better, because even though she still couldn’t talk, she could feel, and right now it felt like World War III was about to go postal in her stomach.
“Keep it down as long as you can, Miriam.”
Dear God, she was going to throw up.
Not in front of him. Please, not in front of Io.
How much more was she going to humiliate herself in front of this male who made her heart do flips at just the thought of his hands in her hair? She had nearly upchucked in front of him two weeks ago at AKM, and here she was, in his home, about to do it again. And it felt like this time would put last time to shame. Nothing like being an overachiever.
“Sssshhh,” Io said, trying to comfort her.
But she couldn’t be comforted. Her stomach was a roiling inferno. She tried to shove away from him. This was it. She couldn’t hold it back any more. Toilet, toilet…
“TOILET!”
He lifted her away from him and held her body as she lunged and heaved a mess of blue shit into the commode. Great, gasping, body locking spasms that seemed to go on forever and empty her to the point where she didn’t think she could empty any more decimated her, and still she continued to retch. Through it all, Io managed somehow to hold her body up with one arm while holding back her mane of hair with the other.
After what felt like ten minutes, she finally stopped and fell back against him in a spent heap as he flushed the toilet.
She was exhausted. The soothing chill of a damp cloth being rubbed over her face and mouth relaxed her. After he had cleaned her up, Io gently lifted her in his arms, cradled her, and carried her out of the bathroom.
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