Page 102 of Borden 3

The front door beside the kitchen opened, cutting us off. A man stood at the threshold, sighing irritably. “Hurry along now.”

I heard groaning, followed by shuffling feet. A huge figure followed after the man, limping between steps. My heart caught in my throat as I jumped to my feet, racing to Hector. I ignored my own pains because his were far more serious. His face was covered in blood. He held his arm tightly to his chest as he slowly and stiffly entered the small log home.

“Hector,” I whispered, coming up to him.

“Em,” he murmured, his face relaxing when he looked at me. “You alright, sweetheart?”

I nodded. I raised my hands to his face, brushing away the hair. “You’re hurt.”

Nobody stopped me from touching him. Theo lingered nearby, watching the entire thing. His men, three of them, walked in the room, situating themselves around it. I took Hector’s arm and slowly guided him into the living room.

“Is your arm broken?” I whispered.

“I don’t know,” he replied.

“Did they do this?”

His lips formed a frown. “No.”

Was Theo telling me the truth then? That he had actually saved me? I considered that as I helped take a seat in the armchair by the fireplace. He stared down at the puzzle pieces by his feet with confusion. His brown eyes shot to mine in question. I simply offered a quick nod that told him: Yes, there’s a child here. Yes, I’m confused too.

“I could have been more mindful,” Hector whispered to me now, looking guilty. “We shouldn’t have gone to Shaunie’s in the first place. I fucked up.”

I shook my head. “It’s not a way to live, Hector, having to worry about such things.”

“It was never this bad, is all,” he said. “Never this bad.”

I held his hand tightly, squeezing it reassuringly. That seemed to only make him sadder. Theo offered his men food from the fridge. I looked up, watching as they made plates full of cold sausages and roast potatoes. They chomped down on the food with such urgency, like they’d been without for a while.

“Take some back for Mal,” Theo uttered quietly. “Make sure the guys are stocked up. None of this scrap shit anymore.”

They nodded in return, thanking him. He turned to look at me. I looked away just in time, returning my attention to Hector’s bloodied face. I ran my fingers over his cheeks, searching for the source of blood. I found a gash on his forehead.

“Gotta clean you up,” I told him.

He began to argue but I was already moving. The men paused eating as I entered the kitchen, checking the drawers. I sidestepped Theo, who stared peculiarly at me.

“I need rags,” I said. “And an antiseptic cleanser.”

I paused to look at him, waiting. The men waited, too, with bated breath. What were they worried about? That he’d flip the fuck out on me? If I wasn’t his captive, then I should be free to have this shit.

Theo simply knocked at the cupboard door under the sink. “In here.”

He moved aside as I dropped down to the ground to open it. I found a medicine bag and bandages. Just before I got up, Theo bent down, placing a small silver bowl beside me. I looked up at him in surprise, but he had already turned away, making a plate of food for himself.

I filled the bowl up with warm water before returning to Hector. To my surprise, one of the men had placed a wooden kitchen chair next to Hector’s armchair. Glancing at the bearded man, I simply nodded my thanks and took a seat.

“Can you take your jacket off?” I asked Hector.

Hector grunted, stretching an arm out. I immediately worked on his jacket, slowly peeling it off him. His white tee was soaked in blood. I winced at the sight. “Hector, were you stabbed?”

“Something got stuck in me. Just once.”

It was in his shoulder. Thankfully it wasn’t deep, and the blood had dried, but holy shit, he was in a bad way. I peeled the white shirt off next. His muscled torso was heavily bruised, some of the bruises darker than the tattoos he donned. I wiped at his face first, cleaning out the gash on his forehead. He shut his eyes, his lips pressed tightly as he swallowed down his pain. Vaguely, I was aware of Theo’s presence drawing close.

“You’re in rough shape, Hector,” I said softly.

“You should see the other guy,” Theo cut in, amused. “Fucker needs more than a bandaid.”