Page 13 of Dangerous Devotion

“Yeah, I’m here,” I take his hand. “You get hit in the leg?”

“Hurts like a mother,” he says, and his breathing is shallow.

I cut my eyes to Serena, and she’s all business. She’s cut the leg of his jeans open to clean the wound and get a look at it.

“They missed the femoral artery,” she says to me. “Probable nerve damage though.”

I nod like I know what that might mean. I can’t take my eyes off her hands. She’s swift and decisive. She has the bullet out without much probing around and makes tiny, neat stitches, closing the wound that was like a gaping mouth moments ago. She covers it with a bandage and tells me to turn him so she can give him an antibiotic shot in the hip. Then we sit him up for some ibuprofen and water. I tell him to smile and take a picture of him with my phone to send to his wife, proof he's alive and heading home.

“Thanks,” he grimaces while getting to his feet. I steady him, and Luke ducks under Louie’s left arm to help him walk.

“You’re welcome. You were an excellent patient. I wish everybody had the sense to pass out when it’s unpleasant,” she quips.

“I’d give you a good review online, but I don’t want word getting out. Best bullet wound repair in town,” he says and gives a wheezy laugh.

“I’ll keep that in mind if I need referrals,” she says. “Get some rest. Tell your wife to make sure you don’t get your leg wet in the shower for a couple days.”

“Sponge baths, hell yeah!” he says with a little more enthusiasm.

When Louie’s on his way home, I help Serena clear away the garbage and set things to rights.

“You were amazing,” I say.

“That was nothing. You should see me change a catheter bag.”

“I’ll pass,” I say. “I just wanted to say thank you. I’m gonna tell Phil about it.”

“Why does Philly the evil bookie give a shit that I stitched up some kid with a hurt leg?”

“Since it’s his fuckin’ kid you just stitched up,” I told her.

“You really think it’ll make any difference to him? Maybe he’ll tell the thugs to leave my dad’s face alone next time they beat the shit out of him as a special favor.” She sounds bitter and sad.

“No, I think he’ll take the usual medical fee off your dad’s tab.”

“Really. Since I’m a CNA we get maybe twenty bucks an hour. I figure this could save me about twelve dollars off my dad’s bill at that rate.”

“Doctor’s fee for a house call at after midnight, which this is, runs about five g’s.”

“You’re kidding.”

“That’s his only son. Better make it eight grand.”

“That’s half what my dad owes.”

“You think he’d rather have sixteen grand and a dead son? Louie, that smart-mouth boy you just sewed up is about to be a first-time father. Lynette’s due the first of September. What do you think it’s worth to Louie’s dad to see him hold that baby when it’s born?”

“Just because I was in the right place at the right time doesn’t mean I’m entitled to crazy amounts of money for thirty minutes of first aid,” she protests.

“I’m the boss around here, for one thing, and I’m offering you something you earned. Why are you arguing?” I ask, incredulous.

“If you make Philly forgive part of the debt, that’s not really me paying it back in full.”

“Is this a matter of pride for you? Look at it like you found a good coupon code online and you used it. I’m gonna go have a word with Philly, but you go ahead and wash up.”

“Tell Foz that I’ll be out in a minute.”

“He knows you’re in here with me. He’s not gonna dock your wages,” I say to her.

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