Amelia

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

"Can you move it at all?" I held Darien's foot gingerly, in my hand, inspecting the lump on the side of his ankle.

"Y-yeah." His foot bent forward, then back. He tried to roll it around, but stopped after pain shot up his leg. I smiled gently up at him.

"Good news: it's not broken. Bad news: it is sprained. I'll have the doctor take a look at it for you, then we can get you a brace. You won't be able to put too much weight on it, but you won't need crutches or anything."

His only response was a slight grunt as I lowered his foot onto the pillow. Apparently, Darien had rolled off his bed in the middle of the night. He slept on the top bunk in his cell.

"Thanks, kid. I'll take it from here." Dr. Johnson smiled as he came into the room, moving to examine a perturbed Darien. "Well, young man, I think we might need to get you some bed rails. This time makes it thrice!" Dr. Johnson had been at the facility for forty years. These men were used to his lingo by now.

I left the two alone to talk about medication and treatment. With Darien's file in hand, I went to the supply room to get the brace, opening the folder to check the patient's foot size. I was too busy reading to watch where I was going.

"Oof!" I stumbled back, only being saved from falling on my butt by a strong set of hands that shot out to steady me. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where-" The words caught in my throat. It was him. Finn.

We stared at each other for a moment, not saying anything. His hands were still around my waist, steadying me against his gaze.

"Don't worry about it." He said. I blushed and scrambled to put some distance between us.

"Uhm, yeah, ah...sorry." I lifted a hand to my cheek, trying to hide the blush that smeared it. My sleeve bunched at the movement.

His eyes followed, first just flicking, then snapping and staying. Suddenly his eyes blazed. "What is that?"

"What?" I followed his eyes, blanching when I saw the red hand prints that encased my upper arms. I quickly tugged my sleeve down –as if that made a difference. He had already seen it. "Nothing."

He shot me a hard look and reached for my arm. His touch was surprisingly gentle. "That is not nothing. Who hurt you?" I didn't respond. I couldn't; my voice was stuck in my throat.

He trailed his fingers slowly over the marks. They left a light, warm feeling in their wake. I almost moaned at the sensation. The bruises didn't hurt anymore –I had practically forgotten about them after getting to the facility. Now, the only thing on my mind was how good Finn's hands felt. I wonder how the rest of my body would feel under these hands.

The thought jolted me. What am I doing? I'm married! Sure, Alexander wasn't the nicest guy, but still. I was a married woman; I shouldn't be entertaining these thoughts. Especially not for a prisoner.

I pulled myself from his hold and the two of us locked eyes, silently acknowledging the moment that had passed. Fin bent down, never removing his eyes from mine, and picked up the mop he had dropped. Oh, he was on cleaning duty. That would explain why he was in the closet.

We said nothing as I squeezed past him into the supply closet. He didn't move as I entered, grabbed what I needed, then slinked past him again. His eyes followed me all the way down the hall, and I could still feel them on me after I turned the corner.

Dr. Johnson asked me if I'd had trouble finding the right size brace.

...

"Oh, Amelia, are you left with all this mess?" Dr. Johnson poked his head in and grimaced at the vomit that littered the floor. One of the inmates that had refused the flu shot had –surprisingly- caught the flu. Shocker.