From writing today -
~
“Let’s hope the one on your back isn’t as bad," said the agent. "Would you mind turning a little so I can get to it?”
He nodded and turned toward Connie, giving the agent access. For some reason, this seemed worse than the other wounds. Maybe because the agent was behind him. Something in him—against all reason—believed she would hurt him. Cut deeper into the wound.
But no. She wasn’t like that! It might hurt… but it was a hurt meant to heal.
Still, he had to force himself not to whip around, bring up his fists in a defensive position.
Focus on Connie.
She touched the top of his wounded hand gently, and his skin tingled, chasing away some of the fire. He lifted his right hand to her face. “I felt your love in there,” he said. “It helped get me out.”
