Page 38 of What I Should Have Done

My instincts kicked in. “Sit down,” I instructed. “I’ll be right back.”

“Mikey!” she hissed quietly as I slipped out of her cubicle and disappeared back into mine. Digging through my toiletries, I grabbed the small first aid kit I always carried with me because cuts and scrapes were rather common after a mission, and quickly whisked back into her shower stall.

She was seated on the edge of the bench, her hands kneading in her lap. Pushing aside her stuff, I swung a leg over like I was riding a horse and sat down, facing her left side. She gasped quietly, her lashes fluttering as she avoided looking at me.

“What are you so scared of?” I asked.

“What?” She sucked her lips between her teeth. “Nothing, obviously.”

I tipped my head and unzipped the little bag. “No? So, you refusing to look at me has nothing to do with being scared of seeing something you might like?” It was a bold statement, I knew that, so I quickly busied myself with digging through the kit for some butterfly bandages and disinfectant wipes.

A hysterical giggle escaped her lips and then she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Excuse me?”

“That’s it? I would’ve thought you’d come up with something a bit wittier than excuse me,” I teased and tore open the first alcohol wipe with my teeth.

“Well…you know what…this is…you’re wearing a towel and…I’m injured and you think a sex joke makes it better?”

“You’re the one that said sex jokes about Bernie and me were fair game.” I leaned forward and gently cupped her chin with my free hand. Goosebumps immediately rose on her skin. Such a visceral reaction to my touch. I stared at the pimples erupting all over her, and a shudder ran down my own spine. This was not good. Not good at all.

But so fucking good at the same time.

My breathing turned ragged. Unable to move or think, the distant plunk of water dripping slowly from a faucet somewhere in this small tent echoed loudly in my head. Heat poured into my core, and I swallowed stiffly, urging my fingers to get moving.

Finally, my other hand clutching the disinfectant wipe rose. “This might sting a little,” I gently warned, and she closed her eyes as I dabbed the damp cloth against the open wound on her cheek. Air hissed through her teeth, but she made no other sign that it hurt.

“What happened, Scottie?” I asked, peeling the backs off of a tiny butterfly bandage to help tape up her cut.

Her chin swayed in my hand. “Nothing. Just some guys caught me as I was leaving.”

“Hmmmm.” I leaned forward and squinted, carefully applying the first bandage. “So, why didn’t you radio for help? We’re a team.”

She pursed her lips and visibly rolled her eyes. “Are we? Because that’s the second time that Dom has perched me out of danger, where I’m only sort of effective.”

“Oh, come on, Scottie. You know that’s not what he’s doing.”

“Is it not?”

“No, Crow. The rest of us have been a team for, hell, seven years now?” I furrowed my brows and gently released her chin. Moving to her shoulder, I dabbed at her next cut and continued speaking. “We know how we work. Hell, those boys know me better than I know myself. I’ve literally seen every single one of them take a shit, okay?”

That earned a soft giggle. “So, what’s Dom doing, then?”

“Keeping you safe while trying to figure out how good you are. Can’t find out what you’re capable of if you’re dead.” I taped up her cut and then slid less than half an inch down her arm to her next wound.

“You should just go buy a fucking roll of Scotch Tape at this point if you’re planning on bandaging up every one of them,” she sassed.

I glanced up at her eyes and leaned back. “Alright, Scotch. I’ll stop, damn it. How about I go find some alcohol in Reyes’s tent and pour it all over your wounds instead?”

She grinned. “Fine, fine.”

As I returned to her wounds, her chest expanded slowly, and she tipped her head back. “I don’t know how I didn’t die, Mikey.” A whispered confession that I don’t think she intended on telling me just yet.

“I won’t let that happen,” I immediately said, keeping my voice low as anger roared hot in my belly. Shit, this was going to be a problem, I immediately knew that, but I couldn’t stop it, not at this moment. Rational thought had left the room.

“I don’t need you to protect me,” she snarled at me.

“Bullshit,” I calmly replied and pressed the pad to a small cut, cleaning things up around the wound.

“How dare you!” She spun her gaze toward me and shot an icy stare in my direction.

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