Page 111 of Bride of Choice

Rek snickered quietly to himself, though I could make out him picking his way closer to Bum-bum to eye his handiwork.

Bum-bum started to hum as he worked. The sound was hypnotic, giving me something to focus on besides the Frankenstein-ing of my leg.

Bum-bum had just announced, “Done,” and was cleaning things up when Tarnk found his way back to camp.

Feeling as wide awake as I did sleepy, I eyed the male as he made a beeline for not Kirch but Bum-bum. Holding out a bloodied arrow, his grumbling report’s tone in Lo denaii had apprehension filling me as I looked anywhere but my gruesomely stitched up leg.

With no healer with the kind of shit they kept stocked up back in the village on hand, it wasn’t a bad stitch job so much as plain ugly.

Without a word, Gopher nodded towards my purse. Handing it over to him, I watched him pull out the scarf stuffed in there. Tearing it into long strips, he handed my purse back and started wrapping strips around my leg.

Staring down at his handiwork, I murmured, “Thanks, Gogo boots.”

Scooting in closer, cupping a hand over my knee, dragging my attention away from my leg, he made a noise in his throat and the knuckles of his other hand gently brushed across my cheek.

He leaned in. I leaned in.

We were so close and yet so far. The divide was there, a heavy, tangible thing, thick and growing.

“Jo!” Doogie called out, grinning as he butted right in on our little magical moment.

Gopher pulled back and like that the spell was broken.

A yelp left me as Dorothy’s incorrigible son slapped me on the back and made to sit next to me at the fire.

“No worries. We find,” Dougie assured me, like I should know exactly what he’s talking about.

Bum-bum scooped up the severed head and horns across the camp fire, rumbling something to the others that had them rumbling in agreement.

Watching me stare after Bum-bum, he gave me a nudge. “Puts out. Warning,” Doogie said simply. Then again, to put it in better perspective for me, “No worries. We find other. Kill. No hunt Jo no mores.”

“My heroes,” I mumbled flatly, curling in on myself, wishing I could curl my leg towards me but not wanting to upset it.

One of them was still out there— the scarier of the two. A shiver made its way up my spine.

“No want Jo hurt,” Doogie settled on.

“Because then who would torture tease you?” A wry smile cracked my suddenly dry lips.

Doogie snorted but refused to dignify that with an answer. Spying the empty flask on the ground, he got a funny look on his face he quickly masked, and kindly asked, “Hungries?”

With a shrug, I admitted, “I could eat.”

“I go get,” he said quickly, perhaps a bit too much so.

Not thinking anything of it, I quickly ate the bread he came back with and held out to me.

I’d thought we were having a real bonding moment, like we’d pulled through some bullshit.

It wasn’t until my stomach suddenly started churning that I realized anything was up.

Douglas, you asshole.

Chapter 16

“You feeds her,” Berkr chastised as I lost my stomach and Gopher held my hair back. “Know no’ feeds her.”

Doogie tried to play it off, struggling to act casual, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Bettters out than in, no?” he finally settled on. Fucking asshole.

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