The Guardian

Chapter 11

Nora winced as Jack applied spirits to the cut on her forehead with a shaking hand.

"Sorry," he said softly. "I don't have a steady hand."

"It's not your hand. It's the spirits on the cut," Nora replied.

She gently took hold of Jack's wrist. He slowly lowered his hand, and his jaw clenched. Nora didn't think as she tugged his hand and held her other arm out to him. Jack slid down and rested his head on the pillow, his face in the crook of her shoulder, and let out a long, shuddered breath.

"It's all right," she soothed, stroking his hair. "It's all right now."

"I thought you were dead," he ground out. "God, I thought he choked the life out of you!"

"He might have, if not for you."

Jack took a deep breath, then propped himself up on his hands and glared at her. "Where was your knife, Nora?" he demanded.

"I had it at one point," she replied, surprised at his sudden anger. "I believe it must have fallen out of my hand when we fell through the doorway."

"Why wasn't it between his shoulder blades or hanging out of his rib cage?"

Stunned, Nora opened and closed her mouth a few times, then gingerly propped herself up on the pillows. They were practically nose-to-nose.

"There wasn't the opportunity," she said evenly. "I did fight him, Jack. I cut him at one point. If I hadn't fought, he would have raped me. I'm sorry I wasn't able to kill him all by myself, but I didn't just lay there and take it!"

Jack glared at her for a long moment, then pushed himself off the bed and began to pace the cabin.

"You have learned nothing, Eleanor," Jack hissed. "Have I just wasted all my time?"

"Speaking of time, Jack," Nora replied, pushing herself out of bed and standing near it. "Just where were you? Why did it take you so long to get to me?"

Jacked gaped at her, and he realized she was furious at him. She wasn't allowed to be angry with him! She was the one that forgot everything he taught her at the first sign of crisis. She was the one that came crashing out of the cabin with some miscreant's hands around her beautiful, slender neck—a grasp that was now producing ugly, violent bruises.

Jack counted to ten, then for good measure, counted to twenty before he responded. "You're angry with me? Pray, tell me, what exactly did I do wrong in this scenario? I saved your life!"

"Where were you, Jack?" Nora spit back. "I was terrified! I thought he was going to rape me, then kill me and throw me overboard. I couldn't bear to think that you were going to lose someone else you just might care about. God damn it, Jack, where were you?"

"I was staring at the bloody door, Eleanor!" Jack boomed so loudly the rafters shook, and Nora flinched. "I took my eyes off the door for a split second—"

"And he got in!" Nora yelled. Her words followed in gasps and sobs. "And he had a knife .... And he was touching me ... And he was threatening me ..."

Jack's anger abated and he moved to her, taking her in his arms. She clutched his shirt and struggled to regain control of her breathing as he gently stroked her hair and kissed her temple, right beneath the wound.

"Sshhh," he soothed. "It's over now. It's all over. I suppose we were both frightened by it." Nora nodded, but stayed within the comfort and protection of his embrace.

Jack was in no hurry to let her go. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her eyes bulging out of her head from the lack of air. He saw the way she looked on deck, bleeding and terrified. He had not realized how poorly he would handle her being hurt and in genuine danger. He knew now that he had work to do in that particular area. He needed to constantly be prepared for that.