{NATHAN}
"Strip."
Her jaw tightens, muscles bulging by her temples. I had to help her move from the bedroom to the en-suite, and she already hated that. She can't stand needing anyone's help.
I get rid of my suit jacket, hanging it on the hook attached to the door, and unbutton the sleeves of my white shirt before rolling them up.
She's still standing when I open the bath tap and adjust the temperature.
"I said strip, Kayla."
"I'll strip when you leave the room," she snaps back. She attempts to make it harsh, but she sways, putting a hand on the wall so she doesn't fall.
There was probably no need to chain her to the bed. She's so weak she couldn't take two steps in a row.
Her eyes lose focus for a few seconds, and I wonder if she'll faint again.
The three men who beat her up yesterday damaged her more than I thought, and she's clearly got a bad concussion based on the number of times she's fainted.
That's honestly annoying.
