Chapter Twenty-Three
Fuck, Phoebe,” his voice pulled me back into the moment. As I drew my eyes away from his rear, Phoebe darted up toward her enclosure. “I didn’t see her,” he explained. “I must’ve hit her by accident or—”
We didn’t have time for this. “Laken.” The poison acted fast, and we needed to act faster, but my words were disintegrating. Standing there, silent and panicked, I pointed to his ass with a trembling finger.
Within seconds, we rushed inside. I grabbed the first aid kit and antidote from the lockbox, the small vial with a metal lid chilling against my skin as I hauled ass to the bathroom where Laken waited.
I wasn’t aware of my surroundings or where I ran, I simply ran to him.
As if I’d been the wounded one, my vision blurred, my stomach knotted.
Feeling faint and nauseous, I grabbed the frame of the door and lowered myself onto the ground.
Eye to eye with three porcupine quills in an ass cheek.
“You got the antidote and the needle?” Laken leaned over the sink, keeping his weight on his other leg.
“Yes,” I cried, or questioned, or sort of whimpered. “Oh my Gods.” My heart recoiled into my chest.
“Reece, you have to take them out so the antidote can get in. Okay?”
“Mm-hmm.” Biting my lips, I nodded, tears lining my eyes.
Lifting my hands, I searched for the best angle to rip them out of his butt.
But despite my hands moving around as if performing a spell, I couldn’t find a good opening.
My chest stung. Oh my Gods. Oh my Gods. What the fuck do I do? “Uuuhh… uummmm, you see—I…”
Laken’s head snapped up from where it hung. “Reece.”
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to do this. What if I hurt you? What if I hit another quill and poison pours into your butt blood? What if I hurt you worse than you already are and—”
“Reece.” His tone turned deep and stern, the challenge in it shutting down my nerves. “My girl, I need you to do this.” Judging from his reflection in the mirror, he stayed calm and relaxed—waiting patiently for my shit to gather.
“What if I hurt your ass?”
“You aren’t going to hurt this ass.”
“I could! I remember you got stung by a bee when we were fifteen and your ass was very sensitive!”
“Reece, my ass has changed. This isn’t the same ass.”
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “Has it… seen some shit?”
Laken’s head dropped down. “Reece, now!”
Right. “Okay, okay, okay…” My teeth clenched so hard I thought they’d break off. I released another shriek.
“Reece!”
“Fuck! Okay!” I exhaled one more time and yanked blindly.
I mean, I watched but I didn’t debate the angles or pain or length.
Oh my Gods, I thought as I plucked, these bitches are longer than average.
“Alright, alright, take the pants off.” To give the antidote, I needed his bare ass.
Luckily, little to no shame remained between us and Laken dropped the pants to his ankles with a little shaky shake.
“How much do I give you?”
“Ten milliliters.”
“Ten milliliters altogether or ten milliliters for each quill?”
“Ten milliliters altogether.”
Holding the vial in my hands, I steadied the needle and pulled back the plunger. It was a good thing I didn’t go to school to be a healer, I thought. I sank it into the liquid, tipped the bottle bottoms up, and dragged the antidote into the needle.
I glanced up as little drips of blood flowed over the curve of his ass, the dark red contrasting with his pearly-white skin. Maybe he should’ve tanned nude. But more blood came out, and I couldn’t feel my skin or my limbs, I couldn’t—“Shit.”
“What?” His head snapped up.
“You’re bleeding.”
“How bad?”
“Like… three whole drops.”
“Gods, Reece.” His tone deepened with worry, and I knew I’d vomit soon. “You might as well put me out of my misery, you and your poisonous porcupine. Write my eulogy, will you?”
Ass.
I can do this, I told myself mindlessly.
If I could conquer fire-spitting chickens from hell and a trickster raccoon (which were all to be determined), then I could save Laken’s life (also to be determined).
Wiping the blood with an extra gauze, I sank the needle into his skin and pushed the plunger.
After covering it with more gauze and a gaudy amount of medical tape, I collapsed back onto the floor and leaned against the wall, wiping the sweat from my hairline. I could finally breathe, assuming I’d done everything correctly and Laken didn’t fall to his death.
Laken buttoned his pants back. Staring at me from where he stood, he shook his head. “Are you alright?”
I shrugged. “I think I’ll make it.” And despite not wanting to rise from the floor, I helped him to the bed where he dropped onto his stomach.
I lay next to him, brushing the hair from his clammy face—I knew he’d been nervous.
The fly-aways framing his face were dampened with sweat.
“You know, I don’t claim to be a healer or anything but—”
The bed vibrated with his laugh. “Gods, I sure hope not.”
“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad,” I argued.
Laken answered with a muffled grunt and his eyes fluttered shut.
Feathered lashes fanned out, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous of them.
His arms folded under his head, his breath calming.
“Reece,” he started slowly and sleepily, “I’ll tell you everything about the last three years. I want to tell you every detail.”
“But,” he started, and my stomach coiled, “I need to know exactly what you want out of this. Because I know what I want, and I think I’ve made it pretty clear.” His words dripped like honey from his tongue.
For the first time in a while, I knew what I wanted. “I want this,” I insisted. “I want to give us a try, I want you.”
Laken’s eyes were closed, but his lips attempted a little grin with a smothered chuckle.
“That’s good,” he exhaled. “Otherwise, I’d be really embarrassed about this whole thing.
” Laken kept his eyes shut. “I got my girl back.” His voice sounded as quiet as a whispered wish, one of the last things he held on to before falling asleep.
He got his girl back.
And I couldn’t think of anything better.