She Who Dares by Jane O'Reilly

stepsister wasn’t here, so instead she focussed her foul mood on Sebastian.
    If only he wasn’t pretty much the only person who could help her out of the mess she was in.
    ‘Miss Sinclair?’ called a nurse from the other side of reception, a clipboard in one hand.
    ‘Here,’ called Nic. With a quick glance at Sebastian, who was deep in a copy of Guilty Pleasures magazine, she got to her feet, steeled her spine, and went to get herself some stitches.
    By the time they made it back to Lostwithiel it was late evening, the dark pushing at the light, and Sebastian’s stomach was complaining loudly. He ignored it. He had more important things to think about, like the long, hot shower he was going to take as soon as he got home. And Nic.
    A hot shower and Nic. Get those things sorted, and he’d feel normal again. He’d be able to shake off this hideous sense of unease, the acidic burn in his stomach, the feeling of not being quite steady.
    Tiredness, he decided. It had been a crazy couple of days. All he needed to do was get Nic into bed, make sure she took the painkillers that the doctor had forced her to bring home, and he’d be able to head off. He’d get a pizza delivered, watch trash on the TV and sleep till noon. And why not? He was his own boss right now. He was going to make the most of it.
    ‘I’ll be fine now.’ Nic took a moment to unlock the door tucked away around the side of the garage. It swung silently open as the security lights flicked on automatically, drowning the pair of them in sharp white light. ‘Thanks for everything. See you tomorrow.’
    She sounded like the annoying robot female on sat nav. ‘Everyone hates hospitals,’ Sebastian pointed out. ‘It’s okay if you feel a little creeped out.’ Get her inside, he told himself. Get her into bed, and go home. Through the open door he could see a little entranceway, no bigger than the doormat that sat inside it, and a set of steep stairs.
    ‘I’m fine,’ she said again, walking forward into the space. ‘You were the one sat in the waiting room holding a magazine upside down.’
    ‘I was not,’ he said, though he wasn’t sure if it was true. He’d barely been able to focus on anything in that damn place. Even breathing took concentration, what with the hospital smell filling his nostrils every time he took in oxygen. He’d let their trip to casualty get to him. Worse than that, he’d let it show, and he never showed that sort of vulnerability. He would not let her think he was pathetic. This was about Nic, not about him. ‘Just shows how much pain you were in, if you were hallucinating.’
    ‘I was worried about you.’ She glanced back at him over her shoulder, but didn’t quite meet his gaze. ‘You seemed…distracted.’
    Sebastian shrugged. ‘You’d be distracted if you were wearing overalls three sizes too small. Anyway, this isn’t about me. You had what, fifteen stitches?’
    ‘Twelve. And like I told you, it’s nothing.’ She started up the stairs, fingers resting on the rail.
    ‘A dozen stitches is not nothing,’ Sebastian pointed out. He didn’t know if she wanted him to follow her up or not, but as she hadn’t told him not to, he decided to do exactly that. ‘Your hand is a mess.’
    ‘Thanks for pointing that out.’
    ‘Have you always been so damn stubborn?’ He watched as she fumbled with the keys, trying to manage the bunch one handed. When they slipped from her fingers and hit the floor, he scooped them up before she could even get close.
    She glared at him, her face pale and tired. ‘Give me my keys!’
    Sebastian put a hand to her waist and moved her out of the way. ‘When we’re done,’ he told her shortly, unlocking the door and shoving it open. He fumbled at the wall by the door until he located a switch, then flicked it.
    ‘Believe me,’ she snapped. ‘We’re done.’
    ‘Princess, I wish that were true. I really do. But we’ve barely even begun. Now are you going to sit yourself down