"Don't give me your pity." Those words came out before Solomon meant them to as well, but they were less surprising, if laced with frustration. It was bad enough working through his own emotions without having to deal with ridiculous sympathy from elsewhere. Let alone from Raine.

Especially from Raine.

She'd barely left the room, let alone the Hotel, for the last few days. It wasn't enough that he'd been so badly bedridden, amongst everything else--but having her hover and not even being able to tell her to go away, because he needed the help ... He'd needed her there just so he could bathe, for God's sake.

He couldn't stand being helpless. He didn't know how to be helpless. There'd never been anyone for him to be helpless at, and everything about it rubbed him wrongly in ways he couldn't even define.