Chapter 19 #2
During the drive, a throbbing pain had replaced the relief I’d felt in my shoulder. Adrenaline had well and truly worn off, and there was nothing to dull the toll the events of the night had taken on my body.
Coyote opened the car door for me. I tried not to let it bother me. I also tried not to limp too obviously as we made our way to the front door. I failed at both.
The minutes we spent waiting in the darkness seemed to stretch longer, my aches making me aware of every second that passed before the front door cracked open. It was just enough to see the shadowed face inside and a single dark eye that looked us up and down.
Bull sighed.
“Nice to see you too,” Coyote teased.
The door was pulled open just enough for us to get inside, then promptly closed and locked.
Bull wore only a loose pair of gray sweatpants and a chunky gold chain around his neck. His short dark hair curled up at all angles, and his dead-eyed expression told me he wasn’t at all pleased at being woken at almost four in the morning.
“What happened?” asked a deep, accented voice as Bull looked me up and down.
I looked away, and he huffed.
“Jesus, Snakey, what happened to you?” came an unexpected voice.
Pink knee-high socks padded down the stairs.
Cupid was also shirtless, wearing only tiny pink cherry-patterned booty shorts.
There were faint bruises over his torso, and small pink gems glinted off his navel and nipple piercings. His right hand was in a cast.
Brilliant. How many other people had to see me like this?
A wide grin spread across Coyote’s face. “Hey, Matty. Fancy seeing you here.”
Bull tensed beside us. “Not a word,” he grunted as Coyote beamed at him.
Then he turned and walked off through the unlit living room.
I struggled to keep up with him. Coyote stayed by my side but thankfully refrained from touching me.
The living room connected to a kitchen, and a door to the side opened into what seemed like an ordinary doctor’s examination room.
Bull stood by the door, using his body to block Coyote or Cupid from entering after me. “Go away.”
“Sure. I’ll just be out here, catching up with Matty,” Coyote chuckled.
Bull slammed the door closed in response.
“What happened?” he asked me again.
“I was mugged,” I lied.
He didn’t believe me and didn’t bother hiding that as he raised his brow at me. When I still refused to tell him the truth, he shook his head and said something under his breath in Hungarian that I assumed was a curse.
“Clothes off.”
“I only need you to look at my shoulder. It was dislocated.”
“Was?”
“Until Coyote put it back in place.”
He cursed again, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Clothes off.”
“I told you I—”
“Clothes off!” he snapped. “I maybe do not look it, but I am a doctor. And you are now my patient. So… Clothes. Off. Or get out. I help you my way or not at all.”
My face flamed, my blood boiled with humiliation.
Heat built behind my eyes. I was normally so good at keeping my walls up, my emotions to myself.
But my shield had been shattered to pieces tonight, and I didn’t have the strength to put it back together yet.
Bull could see it all, and I hated the way his eyes softened.
“I want to help you. Okay? Let me help you.” He tried a softer tone.
I hated it. I hated that I needed help. Most of all I hated that I wanted it.
Weak.
I let Bull assist me with getting my clothes off, and while he had an appalling bedside manner, he was surprisingly gentle.
He checked my shoulder, the scrapes and bruises, gave me some medication for the pain, then let me shower in the adjoining bathroom. I’d never in my life appreciated a shower as much as that one.
Once I was clean, he patched up all the scrapes and the small split in my hairline that was bleeding lazily, then gave me some clothes to wear from a drawer of others that all looked new and helped me with getting them on.
“I put yours in a bag?” he asked.
“No. Destroy them.”
He nodded, not asking any further questions. I was grateful for that.
“Wear for two weeks,” he instructed as he carefully positioned my left arm in a sling and secured it in place.
“Fine,” I responded, knowing I was ditching it the moment I left this place.
He huffed. And then we were done.
I’d expected Coyote would have left by now, but he was still waiting, sitting at the kitchen table with Cupid, who was now wearing a navy sweatshirt at least five sizes too big for him.
“You can rest in guest room,” Bull grumbled as he walked through the kitchen to the living room like he was in a rush to get somewhere.
“Matty isn’t staying in the guest room, then?” Coyote called after him.
Bull didn’t stop, continuing on his way until we could hear him stomping up the stairs.
“You shouldn’t tease people,” Cupid scolded, but then he winked. “I’m gonna go, umm… get the guest room ready.”
“I’m not staying,” I informed him.
“Well, I’m gonna go do… somethin’ else, then. Hope ya feel better real soon, Snakey.”
He didn’t wait for a reply before he was padding after Bull, his steps significantly quieter.
I sighed. The pain medication was taking effect, and tiredness was quickly weighing down on me.
Coyote cleared his throat as he stood. “Well, I should… go handle that thing. But I wanted to ask you… with your company doing fancy tech stuff and all that…” He dug around in his pocket until he retrieved a silver lighter and handed it to me. “Is it possible to put a tracker in that?”
I turned it over in my palm. It seemed like an ordinary lighter. “Why?”
“I just… It’s important. I can’t lose it again.”
I saw in his eyes that thing I’d been trying to shield from my own since he’d shown up to help me in the alley. No, since before then, in a private room with crimson walls and a man I’d never see again. Vulnerability.
“I’ll see what I can do.”