by Abi Ketner
“Genesis,” the man replies, cocking his head toward Cole. “Your girl’s hurt, and Genesis is refusing to let me help her.”
“You’re not a doctor,” Genesis spits. “Just a worthless medic.”
“Call me whatever you want.”
“Genesis,” Cole growls. “Medics are first responders with medical training. He’s an asset.”
“I don’t trust him,” she snaps. “Especially with Lexi.”
“Why?” Cole asks.
“I used to run with Genesis,” the man responds. “Until one day I disagreed with her decision, and next thing I know, she’s gone.”
“Is that so?” Genesis asks, bitterness dripping off her tongue. “I recall a very different story, James.”
“Genesis, move, or I’ll remove you myself,” Cole demands. “James, go see her.”
I try to shift positions, but pain branches into every limb, and I end up clenching my teeth around a scream. Cole’s at my side immediately, with James peeking over his shoulder. Genesis quickly pushes James away. Soon, Bill and Bruno enter the room, their eyes darting from Genesis to James, and back.
Cole’s concerned face hovers over me. My vision blurs, and my skin crawls with fire. I gasp for air. “What’s the matter?” Cole asks.
“I’m in so much pain.”
“How about some alcohol?” Bill says. “It’s sure to ease her pain.”
“Alcohol will thin her blood, only causing her to bleed more,” James admonishes.
“Okay then, smart fart, ” Bill replies. “Anyone got drugs on them? You know, the hard-core stuff?”
“Go through my bag,” James says impatiently. He holds it up, and Bill reaches for it.
“Don’t touch it,” Genesis says, stepping between the bag and Bill.
“Step aside,” Bruno warns her. He sounds calmer now than he did on the truck. “Don’t make me doubt your motives.”
“I’m trying to protect Lexi from him,” Genesis growls. She sizes up Bruno, then backs away when Bruno doesn’t flinch and allows James to pass. He fumbles with the bag, opening it as quickly as he can to prove he’s not lying.
“There’s only medical supplies in here, things you guys certainly don’t have,” he explains.
“What’s in it for you?” Bruno asks. His expression’s guarded, his arms crossed over his chest. “Everything comes with a price these days. So, tell me, what is it you want in return?”
“This is my job—it’s what I do,” James says. “She’s injured, and I certainly can’t help her if you won’t let me try. I’m not your enemy, man.” He sounds irritated that Bruno would even ask. “If it makes you feel better, hold your gun to my head. Depending on how bad it is … she could bleed out while we sit here arguing.”
“Do what you need to do,” Cole commands James.
“Absolutely not,” Genesis says. “No way. You don’t know him.”
“Back off, Genesis,” Cole says in his demanding tone. Everyone goes quiet. “She’s mine, not yours. This time, I’m in charge. Don’t cross me.”
A few black spots dot my vision, but not enough that it blocks me from seeing James, who kneels by my side. Genesis bares her teeth at Cole before leaving the room in a huff. Bruno follows her out, his hand gripping her shoulder to make her stop. They disappear beyond the door.
James’s face is hidden by a giant black beard covering the majority of it. He has soft brown eyes that hold a gentleness uncommon for the Hole. Why Genesis was so adamant about keeping him away, I don’t understand, but Cole seems to think he’s trustworthy. Or he’s just that desperate.
“Would you mind if I take a look?” James asks. He sits back, waiting for Cole to respond. After Cole nods, James pulls back the bandage covering my wound, gulps, and turns his head away.
“How deep do you think it is?” Cole asks.
James exhales through his nose, and then his cold fingers dig around my stomach. I instinctively twist in the opposite direction, causing myself even more agony. James doesn’t respond right away. He concentrates, his lips pursing.
“It’s hard to say. Maybe three, four, five inches. That’s assuming the knife wasn’t longer than five inches.”
“Well, that’s not exactly comforting.” I crack a smile, but it hurts so much that I find myself groaning uncontrollably.
“I know, I’m sorry. But if he pushed the blade any deeper, he probably would have sliced your liver in two.” James covers me back up while avoiding my stare. “And if that were the case, you’d be dead already.”
“Again, not comforting,” Cole says.
Bill’s face turns pale as he watches James work. “You can use my alcohol if you need a cleaner.”
“Forget the bleeding, if it helps I’ll drink it,” I say in a hoarse voice. Bill grins and holds it out, but Cole pushes his hand away.
“Lexi, I’ve got something better,” James says, rummaging through his bag. “Trust me. Sinners kill for this stuff.”
“What? How’d you score that?” Bill pockets his bottle and crosses his arms. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he shoots a glare at James that makes me think he’s not as interested in what James is doing for me as he is in James’s past. “You some kind of drug dealer?”
“Let’s just say … I help injured people, and they find a way to pay me back,” James replies without looking up. He’s taken some things I recognize from his bag: gauze, iodine, tape, needles, and, thank the Lord, it looks like a morphine bottle.
Morphine Alyssa could’ve used so badly before she died in the hospital.
James places sutures on the ground before shaking his head and putting them back into the bag. “A stab wound shouldn’t be sutured because there’s no way of knowing what else has entered her body.”
“Hot damn, like what?” Bill asks.
“Bacteria, tetanus … Things like that.”
“My word,” Bill breathes. “Here, quick, pour alcohol into the wound and kill those nasty buggers.”
“Phil,” James says warningly. “Would you please allow me to do my job?”
“It’s Bill,” he grumbles. Then he leans over James’s shoulder and inspects his supplies. “So whatcha got for Lusty?”
“Morphine.”
“Perfect,” I sigh.
“It should help,” James says with a smile that moves his beard slightly.
“Can you give it to me?” I ask. “Like, now? Right now?”
“Are you sure, Lexi?” Bill asks. He tilts his head, and Cole gives him a funny look.
“Something wrong, Bill?” he asks.
“No, just worried she’ll run out and then need it later,” Bill says. He puts his hands in his pockets, like he’s about to go for a stroll.
“You’re driving me nuts.” Cole shakes his head and turns back to James. “Give her what she needs.”
James draws the morphine into the syringe before cleaning my arm with an alcohol swab. Seeing the needle doesn’t faze me, since, you know, I was just stabbed with a knife. It takes a few long, agonizing minutes for the warmth of the medication to spread. It doesn’t numb the pain, but it dulls the burning, just enough that I’m not loopy.
“You’ll get another dose when I’m finished,” James says. “It’s crucial for you stay awake for this part.” He slowly takes away the pressure dressing or whatever the others placed on my wound to slow the bleeding. I inhale sharply, waiting for the pain as the air hits my raw, torn flesh.
“Barking spiders,” Bill says. “What in hell’s name is hanging out of her?” He leans over James, and his face scrunches up, his eyes widening like they’ve just seen something appalling. “It’s … like sausage,” he chokes out before gagging.
“What’s wrong with you?” James snips. “If you can’t handle it or keep your comments to yourself, I suggest you leave.”
“No can do. I’m staying right here, because I don’t trust you.” Bill plants himself in the doorway, even as his face turns a shade of green.
Judging fro
m the morose expressions on the faces around me, my wound’s worse than they thought and won’t be easily fixed. “Let me see,” I say desperately. But James shakes his head.
“No you don’t, trust me on this,” he tells me. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I said I want to see it,” I repeat.
Cole sees my determination and relents. He helps me sit up as far as my body will allow.
My eyes widen in horror. I’m almost positive part of my intestine’s popping through the gash, which is about six inches long and two inches wide. This wasn’t a simple puncture. Oh no, that guard dragged the blade right through me.
It’s going to take considerable time for this to heal, and time is the one thing we don’t have. I don’t need Sutton to tell me I’m a wide-open book for infection, and unless there’s antibiotic in James’s bag, it’s only a matter of time before bacteria begins snaking its way through my body. Nausea circles my stomach, and anxiety ripples through my soul.
“First things first,” I say to James. “Before you attempt to push that stuff back into my body, I beg you, please clean it the best you possibly can.”
“I’m going with iodine, and, fortunately for you, I have a bottle of amoxicillin,” James says, all business. “It isn’t the best antibiotic out there, but something’s better than nothing.”
Bill’s mouth drops open as if he’s ready to protest. I’d like to ask James how in the world he got hold of these drugs, but, unlike Bill, I’m beyond caring. Cole doesn’t seem to care either, so long as it helps me.
Cole hands me a canteen, and I down the first pill. I hold my breath as James saturates my gut with iodine. At this point, only a small amount of blood trickles from the edges, making its way down my side. Cole holds my hands and tells me how much he loves me.
“I’m tough,” I tell him. “It’s going to take more than a stab to the gut to bring me down.”
“I know you are. It’s just painful seeing you this way.”
“Cleaning’s done,” James says. He uses the gauze to soak up the blood, and even the pool that settled in my belly button. “I’m going to use this long Q-tip thing to push it back inside.”
“Do what you got to do,” I tell him. “I appreciate you helping me.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
Behind him, Bill openly expresses distrust, but I’m too tired to find out what’s eating him. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall while tightening my grip on Cole’s hand. His face sweats, but he never moves away from me, even as the iodine stains his pants and blood seeps through my wound.
“Since you can’t close it, what can you do?” Bill asks James.
“I’ll use the Steri-Strips,” he replies.
“Come again?”
“Steri-Strips.”
“Which are … ?”
“Picture really strong pieces of tape.”
“That’ll work?” Cole interrupts. “The strips, I mean.”
“It should. Steri-Strips should hold the skin together enough to keep everything from popping back out. I’m leaving about an inch open, so I can keep the area clean and watch for signs of infection. After the Steri-Strips are secure, I’ll apply a pressure dressing to manage any further bleeding. If there’s no sign of infection after a few days … I’ll put the stitches in.”
“Were my intestines cut?” I ask James.
“Not from what I can tell.” He works on sticking the strips on my skin, and I’m digging my nails into Cole’s hand. “But, unfortunately, I’m not able to see behind them.”
“Well, if you can’t shit, Lexi, we’ll have our answer,” Bill pipes up. He’s not smiling, though.
“Thanks, Bill. I’ll make sure to announce my first successful crap.”
James packs my wound with gauze and places a thicker pad covering everything. He takes the two-inch tape and applies pressure to anchors the dressing to my skin.
“There. All done,” he finally says. “Lexi, you need to take it easy and drink lots of water. You lost a fair amount of blood, and it’s going to take time for your body to adjust to the lost volume.”
“I’ll do my best. Let’s hope we’re in a safe area long enough for me to recuperate.”
“See, Love, I told you you’d be all right,” Cole says with a hesitant smile.
But what Cole doesn’t know is that I’m nowhere near being in the clear right now. So many things could go wrong. And if I do develop an infection, it wouldn’t take long for it to make its way into my blood system. And if I become septic, there’s nothing anyone can do to fix me out here.
“James,” I say, “how about some more of that morphine?”
“Sure. Double the dose and off to dreamland you’ll go for a little while,” James says. He gives me the morphine and then leaves the room. Bill watches me closely for a while, but his tiredness gives way as he slides down the door frame. He puts his head back and nods off.
Cole lies next to me on one side while Zeus nuzzles me on the other. He gives a whimper, and I gaze into his sad face.
“He knows you’re hurt,” Cole whispers.
“I’ve had worse,” I say. But, truthfully, not even being locked in that closet compares to the agony of my abdomen right now. “I’ll heal fast, and we’ll get Sutton.”
Cole presses his lips together, and I know what he’s thinking. “Lexi—”
“You guys,” I interrupt, “will not go without me.” My eyelids begin feeling heavy, and my words slur even as I try to express myself.
“We’ll talk about it later,” Cole says, but his gaze avoids mine, and I can’t find the strength to argue.
My tongue’s plastered to the roof of my mouth, and the taste reminds me of the thickened paste the orthodontist used for my teeth impressions. Gentle voices in the hallway grab my attention. There’s some laughter, and then more whispers. Zeus lies snuggled up to Cole, who’s asleep on the floor next to me. He must’ve moved during the night. One of Cole’s hands rests limply over my midsection, while the other’s wrapped around his gun. I grin at his relaxed expression, the prickly beard growing over his jawline, and the way his hair falls over his forehead. It’s amazing how mature he appears now.
“It’s excruciating, isn’t it?” a quiet voice says. It’s Genesis.
“What was his name?” Bruno asks.
“Drew,” she sighs. “It’s still hard to say his name.”
“How long ago?” Bruno whispers.
“Two years, one month … yesterday.” Their voices go quiet for a moment. “I took my revenge … Killed the guard who stole him from me.”
“Did that help?” Bruno asks gently.
“Nope.” She pauses. “I’m sorry about your wife.”
“Me too,” Bruno says. “And I’m sorry about Drew.”
“You know, maybe it’s a guy thing, but you seem to be handling it much better than me.”
“We’re different is all.” His voice cracks. “Grace is my strength. I keep fighting and living to honor her.” He exhales, long and slow. “She was so damn brave and stubborn. I told her to go home, but she refused; she was staying with me, with my friends, and did everything she could to help us. She was the most selfless person I’ve ever known.”
I agree, Bruno. And I miss her too.
“Cole and Lexi are the only family I got left. So, I’m focusing all my time and energy on making sure they’re okay.” His voice breaks, and I hear the shuffling of feet.
“It’s not your fault, you know,” she says. “Shit happens. Good people die.”
I freeze, knowing I’m probably not supposed to hear this conversation. For one, Genesis sounds soft, like there’s a whole other side of her. Her tone is gentle, not like the crude girl I know. In a way, it’s good to know Bruno has her to talk to right now, because he’s been bottling up so many emotions lately. I’m afraid if he doesn’t confront his grief, he’ll be a ticking time bomb.
“And James?” Bruno asks. Someone blows their nose.
“Ouch.”
“Yup,” she says bitterly. “I’m a lot of things, don’t get me wrong … a murderer, a survivor, a fighter … and stubborn. But I’m also loyal, and he’s not.” She pauses. “I will always doubt his motives. He wanted to help Lexi, and I didn’t believe him because all I could think about was how he didn’t want to help me back then.”
“Maybe it’s how he needed to grieve,” Bruno says. “Alone, I mean.”
“A few days, I would’ve understood,” she says. “But two years? No way.”
“Can you do me a favor?” Bruno says. “Wait till he helps Miss Lexi before you go off the rails.”
“She’s the only reason I haven’t kicked his ass,” Genesis replies with resignation. “Just whatever you do … don’t trust him. When times get tough, he’ll split.”
Cole’s eyelids flutter open, and I immediately focus on him, the conversation taking a backseat. He cracks a smile, and his hand caresses my collarbone. He kisses me gently on the forehead and sits up, stretching his arms.
Footsteps approach. Genesis peeks into our room, followed by Bruno. I don’t let on that I heard them talking.
“I thought I heard Sleeping Beauty awaken,” Bruno says.
“Thanks,” Cole says.
“Not you,” Bruno says with a laugh. “Her.”
Genesis rolls her eyes as Cole leans over to kiss my cheek. But his brows scrunch together, and his eyes widen.
“What?” I ask, part delirious and part tired. The pain’s been somewhat dulled by the morphine, but it still aches, and God forbid anyone bump me. He runs his hand down my arm.
“You’re clammy and … pale,” Cole says. “I don’t like it.” Worry passes through his eyes, but he buries it quickly. “I’m getting James.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Genesis says. “You guys go.” As Cole and Bruno leave, Genesis plops down beside me.
“If you’re looking for a rematch, I’m out of commission,” I say. She smiles. It makes her face look pretty. I’m starting to think there’s much more to her than the tough façade she puts up.
