Free Heart in Wire: A by a Thread Companion Novel by R. L. Griffin Page A

anything to say. He took a few bites of his meal, sat back, and began drinking.
    “El, I, for one, have missed you tremendously. Millie doesn’t get naked nearly enough when you aren’t here,” Billy announced.
    “I do, too,” Millie pouted. “Just not in the main room.” She looked at Patrick for confirmation.
    He grabbed her hand under the table. “I’m happy you only get naked for me.”
    “So this is Frito Pie, huh?” El asked.
    “Yep. Do you love it or what?” Billy inquired, his mouth full.
    “Um, not really. No offense, Mil.”
    “None taken. I think I’ll just drink,” Millie responded, tucking her bangs behind her ear.
    “I told you she wouldn’t like it,” Patrick hissed at Billy.
    “Yeah, I know. You know everything about her and I don’t,” Billy retorted, taking another massive bite, not thinking about what he was saying. “You can’t account for bad taste, El.”
    “You’re the one with bad taste, Billy.” She laughed. “Though if I was twelve, like I think you are on the inside, this would probably be awesome.”
    Patrick looked over at El, trying to figure out what to say to her. He hadn’t been in the same room with her since the hospital. “So you look like you’re doing good, El. You feeling okay?”
    “Well, feeling okay kinda shifts for me on a daily basis right now,” she answered honestly.
    “Tell us how you’re doing,” Millie implored.
    Patrick knew Millie was really worried about her. El had been holed up in George’s house, trying not to get hounded by the media, and the FBI wouldn’t let her do her job. Millie wanted things to be back to normal, but Patrick knew they’d never get back to the way things were. His feelings for her bumped against his nerves like a live wire, making it very hard for him to be around her. Millie wanted them to be friends, El hated him, and he loved her more than ever.
    “I’m making it, which I’m told is all I can expect right now.”
    “You still doing physical therapy?” Patrick asked.
    “Yep. I started lifting weights again. I’m going to be glad when I don’t have to wait for doctors and therapists to tell me what I can and can’t do.” She took a sip of her drink and looked over the rim at him, her green eyes wide and cautious.
    “Have they told you what the impact of your injuries will be in the long term?” Billy asked.
    “Sort of…they don’t know everything. I may need more surgeries.”
    His jaw tensed even though he knew that might be a possibility. She’d almost died and was still trying to recover. He wanted to take her pain from her. He looked down at his hand, holding Millie’s. Liar. He was a fucking liar, to everyone.
    She continued to explain her injuries to them, not looking up at their shocked faces. “I’m in pain all the time. It went from pretty significant, constant pain to a dull pain, also constant. The pain has lessened, yes, but it never leaves.”
    Patrick knew that feeling, a pain that never leaves. His pain was in his heart and it was her fault.
    “Oh, that sucks, El,” Millie comforted.
    “Were they able to get the bullet?” Billy asked.
    “Billy!” Patrick chastised. Sometimes Billy acted like a twelve year old.
    “Bullet went through my back,” El answered.
    “For real?” Billy’s eyes grew wide. “Can I see?”
    “Sure.” El stood up after taking a gulp of her drink. She took her shirt off and turned around.
    Patrick’s face reddened at the scars all over El’s body, the bullet hole in the heart of her tattoo. How’s that for irony? When she moved to put her shirt back on, he was able to see the angry red lines in the form of cobwebs all over her chest and torso. It was all he could do not to choke and pull her to him. He willed his hands to stay where they were.
    It was quiet. Nobody knew what to say next.
    “Stella,” Patrick said in a low, hoarse voice.
    El’s green eyes were full of emotion and rose to meet his. “Yes?”
    “I’m so sorry, El,”