Maya (Book #3)

Chapter 4

A knock came quickly at the door, and I leaned over and jammed the knife under the bed, rising just as Dominic pushed his way into the room.

"Dom!" I said breathlessly, after throwing myself back into the bed. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he leaned in the doorway.

"Can I come in?" he asked, still wary. His dark eyebrows were scrunched on his face and his mouth was in its typical straight line.

"Of course," I said, trying to take a nonchalant gulp of air. I scooted over for him, giving him plenty of room to sit beside me.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" I asked as he sat beside me on top of the covers. I was holding my right hand tightly to my stomach, praying blood wasn't seeping through my thin shirt. I had only barely broken the skin, but the stomach wasn't exactly a good place for a wound.

He eyed my hand, so I dropped it and pulled the covers up higher.

"I guess I should," he said, looking down at his lap. "I couldn't stop worrying about you. Are you sure you're okay?" He looked up at me and his eyes were so vulnerable I was shocked into silence for a moment.

"I-I'm okay." I lied, not knowing what to say. I didn't know how to ask for help. It could hurt him, I reminded myself. You could make him sad or depressed or angry. Be quiet.

He looked at me and then bit his cheek,examining me further.

"No, you're not. It's going to be one of those nights. Do you want to go out or do you want to stay here and do something?" he asked, slapping his hands on his knees and straightening his back.

"What?" I spluttered. "It's 3:00 AM. What do you mean go out?"

"You need something. And it's not staying at home and worrying about your uncle. We're going for a ride on the bike or we're going to distract ourselves here. I know neither one of us is going to sleep for a while. So, pick." He said, playing with a thread on his jeans like this wasn't a big deal. I realized that he was still dressed for the day, meaning he hadn't been sleeping at all. I could picture him pacing in his room, wanting to help me but not knowing how.

"Motorcycle." I picked, excitement flushing through me at the thought. 

"Deal. Get ready. Pants, jacket, helmet, all of it." He said as he stood and walked to the door. He grabbed it and swung it open before adding, "I don't know why you're hiding your stomach but we each have a first aid kit in our bathrooms. Call me if you need help."

His eyes looked anguished for a moment, and I knew that he knew. His mouth pressed down a little, but he didn't say anything more. He blinked, waiting for me to speak.

"Thank you," I said quietly, looking down.

"Be downstairs in 10."