Chapter 8 #2
The thought left her reeling and a little dizzy and wondering why on earth she’d stayed. Yeah, she liked the town. The people. Her bosses. But now that it was time to face the fury, the fear was there, clawing its way through her body to remind her of how quickly bad things happen.
Gage returned, and she fought to still her trembling. She watched as he quickly opened the first aid kit to find what he needed amongst the contents.
“This is going to sting like crazy, but we’ve got to get those cleaned up.”
She needed a moment. Time to get out of her head and away from the image of her mother’s car beneath that massive old tree in the storm. “I should take a quick shower first. Let me do that before you,” she waved a hand, “do that.”
Her voice shook, but she couldn’t help it. She was spiraling down a dark and twisted memory lane, and her brain was making comparisons whether warranted or not.
Gage seemed to want to get the scrapes cleaned up, but there was no point if she then went to shower and had to redo everything. “Just a quick one to get the dirt and sweat off.”
And time to lock the memories back in their box to open another day. Or maybe never.
Gage inhaled but nodded. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Okay. But use the guest bath down the hall. Meet back here when you’re done or I’ll come looking for you to make sure these get taken care of. You don’t want them getting infected.”
“I can go downstairs. It’s no problem.”
“Sloane, no offense, but you don’t look like you’re up for taking the stairs right now.”
He had a point. She couldn’t see herself, but she became more aware of her quivering response with every second that passed.
Gage tilted his head toward the hallway. “Bathroom’s the second door on the left. You head that way while I grab you a change of clothes.”
She stared at him, smart enough to recognize the stubborn set of his jaw that said she wasn’t going to change his mind.
And since he was right and she really didn’t feel like traipsing down and back up the stairs, given the way her body ached, she got to her unsteady feet and tried to hide her grimace and the limp that came when she put her weight on her injured leg and ankle.
Gage grasped her elbow and helped her as they made their way down the hallway. He left her outside the bathroom and continued on, and she’d barely made it inside when he returned with a folded T-shirt and pair of draw-string gym shorts.
She nodded her thanks and accepted the towels he retrieved from the closet, then watched as he flipped the faucet to warm and left, closing the door behind him with a murmured, “Be careful.”
Her body screamed as she undressed, but the hot water felt divine on her chilled skin. Still, the sting of the cuts took away any pleasure.
She quickly and carefully bathed, gasping as she removed quite a few leaves and bits of grass and muddied, sandy smudges from where she’d face-planted into the ground. The water tinged with red and stayed that way for a while.
She twisted and grimaced at the long line of broken skin wrapping around her thigh. The cut wasn’t deep and didn’t need stitches, but the next few days were going to be painful until it scabbed over and healed.
Shower done, she forced herself out of the hot water and wrapped her hair in a towel while she stood in front of the mirror, taking a full assessment of her injuries.
Thankfully the towels Gage had given her were dark since she still bled on them, but other than more shallow scrapes and cuts, darkening bruises on both knees, her elbows and shoulder, chin and the cut on her lip, she was whole.
Had the force of the limb hit sooner, it would have struck her higher on her body, her back and head, and she could have wound up concussed or worse.
The image of her mother’s car blasted through her mind again, and Sloane stood gripping the edge of the quartz countertop until her knuckles popped.
The memory was almost like…like the past tried to warn her of impending danger? Was that possible?
Her body shook as she got dressed, and she pulled the T-shirt to her nose to inhale because she couldn’t help herself. It smelled freshly washed but also like Gage, and right now, the scent comforted her.
She took a few more breaths, focusing on her breathing to try to calm the hurricane raging within her.
When she couldn’t put off exiting the bathroom any longer, she held the towel around her leg as she walked to make sure she didn’t drip blood on the floor and made her way back to the kitchen.
Gage was already there, looking impatient as he swung to face her. “Aww, Merida. You look like you lost a fight.”
She huffed out a laugh. “I think I did. The tree limb definitely won.” And then some, she mused.
“Sit down. Let’s get you cleaned up. Here,” he said, setting a bottle of pain reliever on the counter. “Take two of those. Should help.”
A glass of water appeared just as she settled atop the stool where he’d positioned her earlier. She held the towel in place with a squeeze of her thighs and downed the pills, hoping they’d kick in sooner rather than later.
Since the cut ran up the back of her leg and wrapped to the front from where the limb and branches had wind-whipped around her, she shifted on the stool to give him better access.
Embarrassment brought a hot flush to her face, but she was smart enough to know she couldn’t take care of the wound by herself, and she didn’t want it to get infected.
Not only could that mean missing work and the money she’d make, but it could mean a hefty doctor’s bill she couldn’t afford.
Best to do this now and do it well, regardless of the fact it meant Gage’s—her boss’s—hands on her.
She would do the same for him if he had been injured so…
Pills swallowed, she unwrapped the towel and braced herself for the sting.
She’d cleaned the wounds as best she could, considering she couldn’t see them well, but Gage wasn’t satisfied.
He grimaced along with her as he dabbed at the cut on the back of her thigh, making soothing noises and even blowing on the skin during the worst of it.
“I’m sorry. I know it hurts,” he murmured.
“It’s fine.”
“I’m almost done.”
He wasn’t, but she knew he tried to make her feel better. The entirety of the cut ran from the back of her calf all the way up and around to her inner mid-thigh. And she knew she had to bring up the cuts and scrapes on her back as well since she couldn’t reach them.
At least they’re not on your rear, she thought. Score some points for the protection of her shorts.
A soft huff left her, drawing his attention from his task.
“I’ve got some butterfly bandages I’ll put on the worst of this. I don’t think it’ll scar, but you’ll probably have war wounds for a while.”
“And a story to tell,” she said, her thoughts once again traveling to the past. “Guess I really have earned that decal.”
Gage’s lips quirked at the corners, and she found herself staring at them, suddenly wondering what it would be like to feel them pressed against hers.
The thought should have shocked her, but it didn’t.
The thing she hated most about her life on the road was her lack of roots and relationships.
Of being able to stay anywhere long enough to establish more than a peripheral friendship, much less more.
She missed hugs and hand holding. Cuddles.
And since she wasn’t the casual type of girl, she wouldn’t allow herself to settle for crumbs and brief hookups that didn’t last long enough to even fit the term “situationship.”
Once Gage had painstakingly cleaned the cuts and bandaged them up, she cleared her throat. “There are…a few on my back as well. If you wouldn’t mind taking a look.”
He scowled at the news. “You should’ve said something earlier. How bad are they? Let me see.”
Her heart tugged at the sight and sound of his concern. He hated that she’d been hurt, and it showed in every scowl and frown and the pinched V of his eyebrows.
Where was that concern from her family? Her own flesh and blood? Why didn’t they care that their actions risked everything? Put them all in danger? Why would they chance it?
“Hey? You okay?”
She must have worn her thoughts on her face, and she fought to hide them by pasting on a weak smile.
“Fine. Just tired and want this done.” She swung around on the stool and tugged up the lower half of the borrowed T-shirt, leaning forward against the countertop and resting her head against her forearm.
“Ah, Merida. You took a beating out there. I’m so sorry.”
“They’re not bad. I just can’t reach them.”
She felt his fingertips gently brush along the scrapes above her hips at the base of her spine where her T-shirt had apparently blown up and revealed her skin as she went down under the limbs.
She waited, and seconds later, felt the sting of the antiseptic and the dab of soothing ointment before the press of bandages. Thanks to her, they’d pretty much exhausted his stash of them. “I’ll have to replace your first aid supplies.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
Yeah, he was growly about her doing something like that when she’d been hurt helping him, and it warmed her heart all over again. Gage wasn’t nearly as uptight as she’d first thought. He was just…tightly locked, like he tried to hold back to keep from feeling too much?
An alert went off on both their phones, warning them to possible tornadoes and waterspouts in the upcoming hours. She swallowed hard. “It’s getting real now.”
Gage carefully tugged her T-shirt back down once he finished and turned her on the stool, his hands remaining along the edges of the seat, touching her. Warming her.
“Nearly getting taken out by a tree wasn’t real enough for you?”
A pained huff left her before she forced herself to shrug. “It was a limb,” she said, reminding herself of that fact too. “And waterspouts? Like in Sharknado?”
The smile that curled his lips also curled her toes, and she sucked in a breath. Dang, the man was far too good-looking for his own good.
“I promise I’ll protect you from any flying sharks. Tilt your head back a bit more. Let me see that chin.”
He leaned closer, and once again she was treated to the heady scent of whatever soap or cologne he preferred. A spicy, woodsy, fresh-clean scent that muddled her wits and had her wondering what the day-old scruff on his face would feel like against her cheek. Her neck.
She hissed softly as he dabbed gently at the cut, and as she lifted heavy lashes, she thought she saw something in his eyes that made her believe she wasn’t the only one wondering. The cut on her lip was next.
“Okay. You’re all done,” he said a minute later, clearing his throat as he took a step back and put some distance between them.
She flicked her tongue out and regretted it when she tasted the antiseptic. “Well…thanks for fixing me up, doc. I should…I should get out of here and leave you to it.”
“It’s going to be a long night. And while you don’t seem to have a concussion, you got knocked down hard. Why don’t you stay up here so I can keep an eye on you?”