“You know what she found, Trap,” Malichai said. He didn’t want to go through the entire thing again.
“I want her to tell me again,” Trap said stubbornly. “It’s important. I’m trying to figure out what the hell is going on and I can’t get the visual in my head. It keeps happening over and over and fast now. I want Amaryllis to tell me. I don’t want to hear it over a speaker while I’m on a plane. I want her to tell me.”
That surprised Malichai. Trap rarely addressed anyone he didn’t know.
Amaryllis answered without hesitation before Malichai could protest Trap’s tone. “There were hundreds of little fissures running through the bone. The cracks widened fast. I had the feeling the field dressing Malichai used in order to stop the bleeding and get the necessary strength to get out of the situation caused some peculiarity in his bone, although that’s only because I didn’t find it anywhere else, and I expected to. There was just no other reasonable explanation. Rubin thought that same thing.”
“I don’t need to know what you thought, so much as what you actually saw. Did this same thing happen again when Mills kicked him?”
“Yes, but there was no chance that the bone was completely healed. Malichai told me the physical therapist wanted him walking daily as well as swimming. I didn’t necessarily agree with that, but Malichai is impatient to be back on his feet one hundred percent. He doesn’t mind working hard, but I think he actually needs to rest the leg.”
She was watching Trap’s hands as he inched his palms over the calf. Malichai felt heat sliding over his skin. It wasn’t like when Amaryllis worked on him, which she had for the last two days. The energy she generated was so powerful that he always expected to see blisters on his skin, although the last time, it felt as if she’d been able to tone it down somewhat.
Amaryllis was often busy in the kitchen, and thankfully Mordichai and Ezekiel helped her, while Rubin spent his time in jail, and then was let go. He stayed to himself in his room as a rule. Gossip swept through the inn and reached Malichai through Burnell and Jay. They came to visit him and would happily tell him that Marie’d had to take Jacy to a hospital and there was a suspected hit man in their presence. They whispered the word “hit man” and yet emphasized it at the same time.
Craig came in and played chess with him occasionally and regaled him with tales of the other guests’ reactions to the suspected hit man. He asked all kinds of questions about Malichai’s injuries and how he got them and whether there was permanent damage, all of which Malichai fielded easily.
“I hate staying in bed when Amaryllis clearly needs help without Marie here.”
“Everyone’s here,” Trap said. “She’ll have plenty of help now. Draden and Shylah are a huge help in the kitchen. Shylah can actually cook—well—she can follow recipes according to Nonny, which most of the women can’t.”
Cayenne winced visibly and turned away from the bed. At once, Trap dropped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. “Baby, you’re too damned emotional. It’s the fucking hormones. I don’t give a damn if you ever learn to cook. You know I don’t. I like you going to the lessons because you enjoy being around Nonny and the women, not because I want you to learn to cook. Stop being so damn sensitive.”
Malichai winced. Trap clearly was showing his woman he loved her and it was obvious he really didn’t care whether she could cook or not, but he sounded gruff, even a little mean when he swore at her.
Trap framed Cayenne’s face with his hands, forcing her head up, and he took her mouth hard. Devouring her. Kissing her until neither of them seemed to breathe. Until her arms slid around his neck and she leaned her body completely into his, relaxing totally into him.
He lifted his head first. “You good, baby?”
Cayenne nodded. She didn’t seem the least embarrassed that there were witnesses to Trap’s hungry kisses. Malichai couldn’t help smiling at Amaryllis, who smiled back.
“Yes.”
“I’ve got to make certain Malichai is healing. If I don’t know what’s going on with his leg, I can’t boss him around adequately, and you know how pissed off that kind of thing makes me.” He rubbed his chin on top of Cayenne’s head and then turned back to Malichai. “It’s official, you know, in case your brother didn’t tell you. Mordichai finished his work in emergency care. He’s been taking time off to do his clinicals, which is hysterical since he’s been doing them for the last few years in the field. But he’s officially a doc now. No one can give him a bad time.”