Willow
MY STOMACH LURCHES. "I–I CAN'T."
"You can." His voice is ragged but certain. "You can do this."
Something in the way he says it makes me want to weep. He believes I can help him. He believes in me. "Top shelf," Dominik says. "Antiseptic. Gauze. Needle and thread in the tin box."
I move quickly to follow his instructions, my hands shaking as I pull the supplies down. When I drop to my knees beside the cot, the weight of what I'm about to do settles over me like a stone.
Kneeling beside him, my fingers brush his skin. Part of me wants to shrink from him, from this. I was just running away from him. The last thing I should be doing is sticking around to help my own captor. But he's not just my captor anymore. He's… he's Dominik.
I thought he didn't care about me. But he just risked his life to save me.
