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Chapter 9

Tom pushed up on his hands as soon as they were free, lifting his torso off the bench, and gasped in relief. “My chest,” he panted. “Just a little…achy. From the…pressure. ‘M fine.”

There was that word again, fine, and Gabe was going to scream in remembered terror mixed up with what was going on now. Too much, too intense, and Tom obviously was notfine.

Gabe leaned in and looked; there was a hard press-crease from where Tom had been trying to stay off the edge of the bench and failing miserably. That area was swollen and red and even under Gabe’s most gentle touch, Tom hissed and flinched involuntarily. The skin was brutally hot to the touch, like a flash fever. “You’re not okay,” Gabe insisted. “Red. Red, Tom, I’m calling this.”

Tom’s face twisted, displaying disappointment and disgust. “I wanted it to be good for you.”