Page 13 of Left Behind

Lilah picked up his clothes, wrinkling her nose at the smell as she carried them to the utility room. She wasn’t going to wash them, but she would toss them in the dryer. She got a glimpse of herself as she passed by the mirror in the hall and rolled her eyes.

“I look like shit, which should work in my favor. I don’t want him getting interested again. It took too long to get rid of him the first time,” she muttered, and headed into her bedroom.

As soon as she heard the water turn off, she went into the bathroom with a handful of old towels.

“Dry off in the tub. I can wash the blood out easier than mop it up.”

Lonny did as he was told, feeling slightly emasculated as she eyed his nude body. He never had been buff, but he’d let his belly go to paunch and couldn’t even see his dick anymore.

“Step out easy,” Lilah said, and held his arm to steady him. “Now, wrap this towel around you and sit down on the toilet lid, and we’ll see to this knee.”

Lonny sat. The cut was bleeding. His knee was throbbing. His head was pounding. He was at the feeling-sorry-for-himself stage when she poured alcohol into the cut. He yelped.

“Holy shit, Lilah! That burned!”

“You need stitches,” she muttered.

“Well, that ain’t gonna happen,” he said, and then moaned when she doused the cut with alcohol again.

“It’s not going to heal without them. Every time you bend your knee, it’s going to bust open and bleed.”

“Well, can you at least bandage it up good enough that I can get home without bleeding out? I’ll get my Medicaid card from the house and go straight to the hospital there.”

She frowned. “Yes, that’ll work. I need one of those stretchy bandage things to hold the gauze pads in place, but I don’t have any. Wait a second. I have something that will work,” she said, and ran into her bedroom.

He heard her banging doors and drawers and then she was back.

“I haven’t worn these in years, but I thought I still had a pair,” she said, and dropped down on her knees and began tearing open packets of gauze pads until she had eight of them sandwiched together. “Straighten out your leg,” she said, and as soon as he did, she placed the pads on top of the cut and pulled a pair of pantyhose from the pocket of her robe. She folded the panty part, pressed it tightly over the gauze pads, and then began wrapping the legs around his knee in opposite directions, pulling tightly with each rotation, until she ended up with the feet on top and tied them as tightly as she could pull, then stood him up. “There. That’ll hold until you can get home.”

Lonny groaned again. “Got any over-the-counter pain meds?”

Lilah took a bottle from the medicine cabinet, shook three five-hundred-milligram capsules into his hand, and ran tap water into a glass and handed it to him.

He downed them in one gulp and emptied the glass.

“Just sit. And keep your leg as straight as you can. Good thing it’s your left knee. I’ll go see if your clothes are dry enough to put back on.”

Lonny stared at his wet underwear lying on the floor. No way was he putting those back on. He was going home commando.

Lilah returned a few minutes later and handed him his shirt.

“They’re still damp, but you can at least get them back on.”

“I don’t see as how it matters,” he muttered, as he pulled the shirt over his head. “It’s still raining like a big dog. I’m just gonna get wet all over again.”

“You can have my umbrella. And don’t bother bringing it back. Consider this a random moment in time that shall never be repeated,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Then she leaned over, helped him get his legs into the pants, then stood him up.

“Okay. You’re done. Your boots are by the door. Let’s get you shod and on your way.”

Lonny stiff-legged it through the house, leaned on her as he stomped his feet back into his boots, and picked up his car keys from the table where he’d dropped them when he’d dropped his drawers.

She walked him out onto the porch and handed him the umbrella.

“Looks like the rain is letting up some. Drive safe. There are all kinds of crazy people out there,” she said.

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