He never moves his eyes from my neck. "What else." Once again his mouth opens and closes again and he repeats it over and over again. He pulls his hand away from my neck with a final sigh running it through his hair and ruffling it up more than it already is. His other hand sliding back down my arm to lock itself back around mine like it was when I woke up. "Are you in any pain?" he asks instead. Taking a deep intake of breathe I try to relax over his drastic change of conversation. It hurts to do so but I'm annoyed by what he just did. Annoyed that he pulled his hand away. He seems to sense it. "Lottie," he stretches out trying to get me to make eye contact with him again. "Look at me." His hand is light on my jaw with his fingers locked into my hair but he still forces my eyes to his. "Why were you living in the street?" "Ryder, that isn't fair." I cry. For some reason I didn't want him knowing anything about me living out there. If it told him that I would have to tell him why. "No, it isn't fair. It also isn't fair that you know one of my biggest secrets now but you're scared to tell me about yourself." He sighs, his hand coming back up to my cheek wiping away the tears again. "I can't." I whisper back to him, my breathing short. Once again Ryder pulls his hand away from my face and I miss it from the second it disappears. It's getting harder for me to breathe especially when Ryder pulls his other hand from mine and he starts to mess with something above my head. Shaking takes over my body and I can't stop it. I can't lose him. The memory I'm trying to keep from him is one of the darkest the plagues my mind. I don't want to see him have a bad reaction to it, just like he didn't want to see my reaction to him being a wolf. When his hands come back he has another tube, his fingers tickle my cheeks when he places it under my nose and hooking it behind my ears. It's helping with my breathing now, but I can still feel it getting stuck in my throat. There's another tube now. He can't know about me. "Better?" he asks trying to take my hand back in his. I pull it away from him though with a small nod of my head dropping my arm over my waist. "I'm sorry Lottie. What I have to tell you is hard to explain and right now I don't think you could handle it." He's right. The hand that he was holding clenches over my hip, tense and stiff from Ryder holding it for god knows how long and that his touch is gone. Looking away from him to stare at the curtains covering the bed I hear him sink back into the chair, not leaving me. "I was left in a stroller in Hyde park when I was a month old." I whisper as a statement, half hoping that he didn't hear me. Tingles rush through my body as Ryder's knuckles brush over the exposed skin of my hip. "Lottie, you don't have to tell me. I want to know, just when you're ready." Bitting my lip, I try to keep my arm where it is instead of going back to take his hand. Tears are still running down my cheeks and they taste salty on my lips, finally landing there because Ryder wasn't stoping them. Two things have been able to make me cry. My thoughts about me being homeless and what caused that to happen and anything emotional or hormonal Ryder causes me. I wish it would just stop. Ryder's fingers continue over the skin of my hip and up the small section of skin reviled to the bottom of the bandage. I haven't spoken in the last twenty minutes, but the silence was comfortable and I could feel myself falling back to sleep. The door opens but I don't turn to look at who enters. Whoever it is doesn't say anything but after a couple of seconds there is a growl. It's Ryder's growl. For some reasons I already have it embedded into my mind. Tingles move down my arm now I Ryder gently takes it in his, waiting for me to pull it away from him again. I don't and he just straightens it out my side and when he slips his hand back into mine and gives it a squeeze, I squeeze it back. Cold hands come down onto my arm and I flinch slightly. Four people have touched me since I have been here. Ryder has had the most contact with me and then it was Reynolds when he checked the cut, and then guy that pulled back from the fight, all of them had warm hands. So the cold hands that are on me now must be Doctor Riley's.