Shoulder the Skye (Skye Druids #2)(22)
Author: Donna Grant

 

She had never been so thankful to have someone dig through her things than she was right then. She wrapped the towel around her body. “Thanks. You can come in.”

 

The door opened a crack to show his face. His gaze caught hers before his body emerged, fully clothed now. He looked her over quickly and set the pile of clothes on the sink counter. “You good?”

 

She was far from good, but she could get dressed on her own. “Aye.”

 

“I’ll go get the first-aid kit.” He flashed a grin and left.

 

Why was she disappointed that he was no longer shirtless? Bronwyn rolled her eyes at herself then leaned over to grab the bra and panties. Next were the fuzzy purple socks with black cats. They were her favorites that she had gotten last Halloween. Only then did she tackle the sweatshirt and sweatpants.

 

She used the towel to cover her knee to keep the blood from getting on her pants. Once everything was in place, she told him he could come back in. Elias must have been near the door because it opened almost immediately. He said nothing as he sat on his haunches before her and pulled up her right pant leg. He dabbed the cut with the towel, then set about cleaning the wound before reaching for the bandages.

 

“I doona think you broke the kneecap, but it’s bruised for sure. That combined with the cut will make walking fun.” Elias glanced up as he taped the bandage over her knee. “I was worried you might have sprained your ankle last night, but that swelling is gone. How does it feel?”

 

“Sore but manageable.”

 

“Any other injuries?”

 

She kept her breathing light and shallow. “Ribs.”

 

“Ah,” he said and flattened his lips. “With the way you hit your SUV’s grill, I’m no’ surprised.”

 

“You have a rather spectacular bruise yourself.”

 

He chuckled. “I’m fairly certain I have at least one cracked rib.”

 

“And you carried me?”

 

“You weigh nothing.”

 

“That isn’t the point.”

 

He ignored her as he rose to his knees and checked the butterfly bandage at her hairline. “It’s exactly the point. If it had been too painful, I wouldna have done it. That looks good. Now,” he said as he sat back on his haunches again, “anything else hurt?”

 

Did he mean besides her ego? “I’m good, thanks.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

 

 

 

 

Elias was waiting when Bronwyn exited the bathroom. He had left her to brush her teeth and hair. She held herself stiffly, alerting him to her discomfort. He almost offered to carry her back to the parlor but suspected she would refuse.

 

“As you can see, I’m getting around myself. You can leave now.”

 

He had agreed to just that. He didn’t want to walk out of the house for several reasons, but he decided not to use any of them as excuses. His need to aid Bronwyn was too great to ignore, and in order to do that, he needed her to trust him. The only way to gain that was to keep his word.

 

He met her gaze and saw the argument waiting on her lips. “Aye. Let me get my shoes.”

 

Surprise flickered across her face.

 

Elias walked past her toward the parlor room, glancing at the newel as he did. She had brought up the blood magic, and he hadn’t pursued it. Now, he wished he had. Timing was everything, though, and he’d had to pick and choose what he pushed her on. Making sure her injuries were seen to had been more important. Next time—and there would be a next time—he would get the answers he sought.

 

He grabbed his boots and sat in the chair to put them on when the unmistakable sound of a vehicle rolling over gravel made him jerk his head up.

 

“Who did you call?” Bronwyn demanded from just inside the door. It clicked softly closed behind her, accentuating her question.

 

Elias stood, his gaze on the windows. “No one. I lost my mobile during the skirmish, and I didna want to leave the house last night in case I couldna get back in.” He chanced a look at her to see Bronwyn’s eyes wide, her fear tangible.

 

“The…bodies,” she whispered, stricken.

 

He frowned as he walked to her. “What bodies?”

 

“Sydney and his people who came for me.”

 

So that was the bastard’s name. “Rest easy, lass. I didna kill them.”

 

Her brows snapped together in shock. “You didn’t?”

 

“Nay, I didna.”

 

“Oh.” She sagged against the door. “Then they’ll return.”

 

Which was one of the reasons he wanted to stay. “I take it you’re no’ expecting anyone?”

 

“No one comes here.”

 

He walked to one of the windows and peered out. The minute he spotted the Range Rover in British racing green, he grinned. Then he remembered Bronwyn. He turned to her, trying to figure out what to say so she would allow the Knights inside. “It’s my friends. They must have tried to get in touch with me. When they couldna, they likely traced my mobile here. They’re good people.”

 

“I’m just supposed to take your word for that? I don’t even know you.”

 

“We can help—if you let us.”

 

She shook her head and stepped away, but he saw how she held onto the wall and limped, favoring her right knee. “You promised to go. I need you to do that and take your friends with you.”

 

A knock sounded on the door.

 

Elias noted the determined glint in her eyes. Bronwyn wouldn’t change her mind, but that didn’t mean he’d give up protecting her. Danger came at her from all sides, and she either didn’t know or didn’t care. He remembered the young girl from years ago who had been tripped. The sadness, anger, and embarrassment she couldn’t hide when he helped her to her feet.

 

Bronwyn was older now, and those emotions were carefully hidden, but not so well that he didn’t recognize them. Everyone had abandoned her. He wouldn’t do that.

 

The knock turned into banging.

 

“You might want to get that,” he told her. “I’ll grab my shoes.”

 

Elias’s strides ate up the distance to the fireplace. He shoved his feet into the boots and was already on his way back to the front when he heard the door open.