Page 88 of The Woman in the Warehouse

“Promised her I’d tell her when I found you,” I said, reaching up with my free hand to wipe some of the tears off of her cheek. “Saved the girl,” I said, feeling so fucking tired. “Not a bad way to go.”

“You’re not going anywhere, you asshole,” she snapped, pressing more of her weight into my shoulder, making the pain soar again, jolting me more fully awake. “Do you hear me? You’re not going to fucking die over a stupid little bullet in the shoulder trying to save me.”

“You saved me a few times.”

“It’s not a contest,” she said as footsteps thundered back down the stairs.

Matej set a plastic container down on the floor beside me, and Miko reached inside for gloves.

“Sal is on his way,” Miko said, tone calm as if this was just a casual conversation, not an emergency situation. “‘Till then, you got me. And your pretty nurse here,” he said, actually fucking winking at Saylor. “How’s your stomach, babe?” he asked her.

“I can handle it,” she said as Miko nudged her out of the way to yank my shirt open, spreading the material wide so he could look at the wound. “Eh, think you’ve had worse,” he said, shrugging. “Just aren’t gonna be able to lift your arm up for a while. Lucky you got someone to cater to you,” he said as Saylor paled as she looked at the wound.

“I was supposed to be taking care of you,” I said, reaching out to place my hand on her thigh, giving it a squeeze.

To that, she rolled her eyes at me. “I’m fine.”

“Face says different,” I said, wincing as Miko poked at the wound before reaching back into the kit for something.

“I’ve taken harder hits in the ring,” she lied. “Oh, this is gonna suck,” she said, wincing, just a second before the cold liquid burned like fire over and into my wound, making me let out a string of curses that would get me a stern punishment from the preacher in the shame box the next time I went to church.

“One way to keep ya awake, huh?” Miko asked, tone calm. “Sal wants me to pack this to hold you over until he gets here,” he explained. “Can’t imagine that’s gonna feel good either. But, hey, pain means you’re alive, right?”

I might have wished a bit for death as he packed shit into the front and back of the wound before they sat me up.

“Here,” Gio said, coming into the room with a bottle of booze. I didn’t even give a fuck what it was, I took it and gulped, feeling it burn down my throat, but knowing it would dull the edges of the pain.

“Okay. Okay. Let’s not add alcohol poisoning on top of everything else,” Saylor said, taking the bottle from me, but taking a quick swig out of it before setting it down.

“I’m gonna be alright,” I told her, even if the wound packing had made a sweat break out across my forehead and intensified the pain a solid threefold.

“Maybe we should move you out of the basement,” Elio suggested. “Kitchen is clean enough to eat off any surface,” he added.

“Think you can move?” Miko asked.

“Yeah,” I said, even if the idea made my stomach lurch.

Miko offered an arm and there was no room for pride as I let him help me off of the ground.

“Sorry about your floor, man,” I told Matej as I looked down at the bloodstain I left there.

It wasn’t until I was sitting on a kitchen chair that I realized Saylor hadn’t followed us up.

“Where’s—“ I started.

“Looking for something,” Matej said, shrugging. “Maybe she lost something in the fight.”

“Can someone make sure she’s not touching the bodies?” I asked, looking at the small crowd around me.

“Don’t worry about the bodies,” Matej said, shaking his head. “I will handle it. No one is going to find them.

“That’s an impressive girl you got,” Miko said. At my blank look, he shrugged. “Took out three of Jan’s guys even though she was outnumbered and knew she would pay for it. Then took out the one who tried to take you out.”

Shit.

That was a big body count.

Was that why she was down there still? Freaking out about it?

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