8 Chapter 8

“I am so sorry about last night,” he said.

Jesse blinked and sat up, but his body swayed like supporting his own weight was too much of an effort, and he relaxed against the pillows once again. Gideon braced himself for a withering look of disappointment, or a lecture, or, God, an apology. He imagined Jesse fumbling all over himself, trying to explain that it was his own very existence that was the problem, not anything Gideon did.

But he merely whispered, “I’m not.”

Gideon froze. “What’re you talking about? I almost killedyou, Jess. That’s not…that isn’t…” His impotent frustration choked the words off in his throat. Some days he shouldn’t bother getting up.

“Can I have some water?” Jesse rasped. “My throat is a little sore.”