Chapter 7 #2
I stared at the wall and didn’t respond.
My throat felt tight and useless. I didn’t know why he cared so much.
I wasn’t his responsibility. When he finished cleaning the blood, he threaded the needle with steady hands.
Against my better judgment, I flicked my gaze up to his face just as he glanced at me.
I wasn’t sure what shone in those brown eyes, but it made me feel unsteady, like the floor was shifting.
Heat crept up my neck, and I looked away, my nails biting into my palms.
Trey rested one hand on the side of my head, holding me still as he stitched me up. It hurt, but I welcomed it—anything to drown out the other feelings creeping in. I counted the number of stitches he made out of habit.
After he tied the final stitch off, he scrubbed his hands and then climbed up the ladder. I slid off the chair, watching as he threw my mattress and blanket down from the loft.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“You shouldn’t climb the ladder when you’re hurt,” he said, jumping down and dragging the mattress into the empty corner.
I looked up at the loft, my one place of safety, and frowned. Trey caught my expression.
“I volunteered for guard duty.” He gave me a crooked grin as he climbed the ladder again. “If anybody comes through that door and even looks at you funny, I’ll shoot ’em.”
I didn’t thank him, but that tight knot in my chest eased a little.
“What’re these for?”
I looked up to see him holding the rusted scissors I’d stashed under the mattress. A lot of help they’d been up in the loft.
I shrugged, feeling dumb. “Just in case.”
“Here.”
He clambered down the ladder and then bent and fiddled with his boot. When he stood, he held out a small holstered knife.
“Take this. It’s small, but it’s real sharp. It should fit in your boot. Sorry, I shoulda thought to make sure you had somethin’ for protection.”
I took it, surprised he trusted me with a weapon, small or not.
I flicked it open, and I could practically hear Wolf’s grunt of approval.
It was well-made and sturdy. As I studied it, I noticed my hand.
Every single one of my fingernails had dark red blood under them.
I remembered raking my nails down Pike’s face and fought a sudden wave of nausea.
“Does anything else hurt besides your head?” Trey asked as he threw my blankets back over the mattress.
My whole body ached, but I knew how to ignore it. I shoved the knife in my pocket.
“No,” I lied, hoping he’d stop fussing. I turned on the sink faucet and scrubbed my hands.
“You want to lie down and rest for a bit?”
“No,” I repeated. I couldn’t get all the blood out from under my nails. I lathered my hands again, hating how they shook.
Trey approached and my entire body tensed.
“What are you doing?” he asked, and gods, I was not going to fucking cry.
“Trying to get the blood off,” I said through my teeth.
“Bones, your hands are clean.”
“It’s under my nails.” My voice came out too loud.
Realization dawned on his face. “I see. Here, hold on.” He rummaged through the drawers until he found a small scalpel. “Can I see your hand?”
My skin crawled at the thought of being touched, but even I had to admit my hands shook too hard for me to try and scrape the blood out myself.
Reluctantly, I placed my hand in his, and he curled his warm fingers around it, holding mine still.
I watched as he scraped the blood out from under my nails, rinsing the scalpel in the sink as he went.
I tried to breathe evenly, fighting back emotion at the strange, overwhelming intimacy of the act.
He let go as soon as he finished, and I retreated.
His eyes followed me, but he simply disinfected the scalpel for me and laid it down to dry.
“How about you sit for a minute?” he said as he dried his hands.
“No.”
He frowned and started to argue, but at that moment the door opened and Griz came striding in. He stopped in his tracks and swore when his eyes landed on my face.
“Lana?” Trey asked.
“Exile,” Griz answered. “All three of ’em.”
I leaned against the exam table and focused on breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. Griz adjusted the leather holster strap on his shoulder, slow and precise, as he studied me.
“I should’ve killed him,” Trey repeated in a low voice.
“Trust me, he wasn’t in great shape,” Griz said with a grim smile.
The door opened again, and a woman stepped in, holding her bloodied arm against her chest. She paused at the sight of me, her eyes darting between me and Griz and Trey.
“Is…is this a bad time?” she asked.
“No,” I said before Griz or Trey could say anything. “It’s fine. You need stitches?”
“I, uh, I think so,” the woman said. “Stupid knife slipped when I was cutting the soap.”
I washed my hands and my face for good measure, relishing the feel of the cold water on my swelling eye and cheek. When I turned around, the woman examined my face. I remembered Clarity mentioning the soapmaker, but I couldn’t remember her name.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“Looks worse than it is,” I tried to say lightly, but my voice sounded wooden even to my own ears. “Have a seat.” I gestured toward the exam chair as I got out my tools.
She frowned and glanced at Trey and Griz as she sat. “What happened?” she asked them.
“Lana paid two men to attack Bones,” Trey answered darkly.
She looked back at me, her eyes wide. “Because of Exo?”
“Yeah.” Trey sighed.
“Exile?” she asked, and he nodded.
I moved to her side and focused on disinfecting the gash in her arm, trying to ignore them. My hands still trembled, and I attempted to steady them by sheer force of will. Trying to stitch a wound with shaking hands was shitty for everyone involved.
“I’m sorry, Bones,” the woman said. “My name is Mist, by the way.”
I flicked my eyes to hers. She smiled, and I dropped my gaze again, wishing people would stop fucking talking to me.
For a few minutes, I thought I got my wish, working in silence.
I finally got her prepped and sat on the stool, bending over her arm with my needle ready.
I took a deep breath, relieved to see my hands were steadier.
“Is the lavender okay?” Mist asked. “The soap. I have different scents if you don’t like it.”
“Oh,” I said, “no, I…I like it.”
She beamed. “Oh good. I was—fuck.” She winced as I made the first stitch.
“Sorry,” I murmured.
“S’okay.” She took a steadying breath. “My own fault for not watching what I was fucking doing. I was gonna say I hoped a nice calming scent would be good for the med clinic. So I tracked down some wild lavender.”
The thoughtful act flooded me with emotion again. I stayed bent over her arm so I didn’t have to worry about my face. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’ll put it on my foraging list, then.”
“Where do you forage?” I asked, hoping I sounded normal and not like I was fishing for information.
“In the woods,” she said cheerfully. “Hawk takes me once a week.”
It took me a second to remember Hawk was the leader of the other Safeguard crew. I tucked that information away.
“The rainwater barrels still working?” Trey asked.
Mist grinned at him. “Like a charm.” She caught me glancing between them. “Trey helped me build a few rain barrels for making lye. Now I don’t have to trek down to the river and fill up buckets.”
I nodded like I understood, which I didn’t. They continued to chat, and I let their voices fade into a pleasant background noise. After I finished, she thanked me warmly and said goodbye to all of us. Trey took my supplies and began to sterilize them. Griz wiped down the table as I washed up.
“Bones, I really think you should rest a beat,” Trey said.
Before I could respond, the door opened again and a woman with a wailing baby entered.
Her gaze narrowed on my face, but she glanced at Trey and Griz and didn’t comment.
The baby was refusing to use one of his arms, screaming when I tried to examine it.
The woman sat him on my exam table holding him still while I wrapped my hands around his little arm.
He quieted as my powers healed the injury to his elbow.
When I let go, the baby waved, smiling at me through the tears still in his eyes.
The woman sniffled and picked him up, pressing a kiss to his head of short, dark curls.
“Thank you!” She stepped into my space and hugged me, and I stiffened. “Are you okay?” she whispered in my ear.
I nodded, feeling so fucking uncomfortable. She gave me a sharp look like she didn’t quite believe me as she pulled back.
“Can I bring Jet back tomorrow?” she asked louder, shifting the toddler on her hip. “To make sure everything looks good?”
I blinked. “Um, sure.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Thank you, Bones.”
She shot a sharp look at Trey and Griz as she left, and I realized she suspected that one of them had hurt me. The immediate urge to defend the two men surprised and annoyed me. I kept my mouth shut.
“There will be an announcement put up on the newsboard,” Trey said. “So people will know what happened.”
Great. That probably meant more people asking questions. My head seemed to pound in time with my heartbeat.
“Bones—” Trey started.
“Stop fussin’,” I snapped. Gods, I did not need to sit and rest. I needed to keep moving.
“I’m gonna check on Mac,” Griz announced. He gave me a stern look when I glanced at him. “Bones, you should at least sit for a minute.”
“I’m fine.”
Griz shook his head at me as he left. “Gods, you are stubborn as a mule.”
“I’m half tempted to give you a narc,” Trey muttered after the door shut.
Panic exploded in my chest. “No. I can’t have narcs.”
“Why not?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“They hurt me.”
Trey exhaled slowly and said nothing. I prayed to the gods he wouldn’t ask more questions. He didn’t look like he believed me. It wasn’t exactly a lie. I didn’t have any explanation for what happened when I was drugged, but hurt was the best word I could come up with.