Page 20 of Hyde

While I’ve seen others handle wounds like this, I’ve never been in a position to care for anything other than scrapes and sprains.

How hard can this be?I think to myself before pouring the alcohol over it, adding the powder, and dabbing it nearly drybefore I add little dots of glue along the edge and press it together. Yeah, I’m not sure I did that right.

“You damn well better not die on me,” I mumble, as I secure a large bandage over my work and remove the gloves.

“I’ll try my best,” he whispers back.

My eyes fly up, meeting his dark gaze. Whether he wants me to or not, I don’t give a shit right now. I lean up and for the briefest of seconds, press my lips against his.

As chaste as it is, my heartbeat shoots into overdrive, and I’m pleased to feel Joe’s pulse pick up under my palm at the same time.

“Have you done that before?” he asks me in a low voice.

It takes me a moment to figure out he’s not talking about the kiss. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face when I shake my head.

“No, but since it just creased you, I figured I could handle it,” I tell him, pretty darn pleased with myself. “Now, do you think you can make it to bed? Because there’s no way I can lift you.”

“The couch will do for now,” he responds, looking down at his torso. “Can you look in the closets to see if there are any shirts that were left behind? I’ll get my bags later, but I need to check in with Flint. He sure as hell wasn’t expecting any heat to be on you clear across the country.”

Now it’s my turn, I think, as I start to stand but suddenly feeling faint at the memory of Parks’ crumbled body back at the airstrip. I’ve known him since I was a kid, but haven’t had a chance to think about his death.

“You don’t have your phone with you, do you?” he asks, looking at me thoughtfully as he braces himself to slowly stand up to offer me a hand. “Or any other device?”

I shake my head, not trusting my voice as I suddenly wish Dad was closer to us.

“Sorry, I’m alright,” I say after a second and turn to the closest closet, quickly finding a button-down, flannel shirt that will be easier for him to put on than a T-shirt.

“Can you rummage through the kitchen a bit? I don’t know if we’ll have reinforcements before the morning, so look for any unexpired food and beverages that were left behind.”

I simply nod, silently pulling myself back together, but go to seek out the bathroom before starting in on that task. Just as I pull my jeans down, I feel a pinch in my side and realize that I have a furrow an inch or so above the top of my waistband. It’s not nearly as bad as Joe’s so I just dab at it with a cloth.

Inspecting my clothes, I can only guess that my jacket had gotten caught up in my backpack and the bullet slid along the exposed flesh under my crop top. I quickly rinse the blood away, but shrug off the minor wound, walking back out to hear Joe talking to someone in low tones.

Looking through the kitchen, I start pulling out various cans and smile to myself, thinking of the cooking show where contestants have to shop for items in a grocery store and make amazing meals, sometimes only using canned goods.

Thankfully, I’ve had a great teacher.

“Leslee,” Joe says my name as I’m struggling with an old can opener. Looking over my shoulder, I see him wave his cell at me. “It’s Gunner, make it quick.”

I snort at him, Dad’s not exactly known for long, rambling phone conversations. Crossing the room, I’m glad Joe’s playing it safe because the last thing I need is him tearing his wound open.

“Angel?” The worry in Dad’s voice is palpable and I hit the speaker button so they can both hear me.

“I’m here, Daddio,” I answer, trying to put him at ease.

“We gotta keep this short. How bad is his wound?” Dad asks me and my eyes meet the haunted ones of the man I’ve loved my whole life.

“I’ve had deeper paper cuts,” I answer, getting a chuckle from both of them. “How’d they know where I’d be, Dad?”

“Prez and I are gonna turn over every stone, until we answer that question. Right now, the Virginia Chapter is sending reinforcements to the cabin. I need you to stay strong and alive. Your Mom and I love you, sweet angel.” Dad’s voice has dropped to a whisper.

“Tell Bree not to worry about Hyde, I’ll keep him alive until the others get here,” I answer, trying to keep my panic from rising. “I love you both. Even Xanderdoodle on occasion.”

Chapter 5

Hyde

From the moment I came to, I’ve been studying Leslee. There are occasionally glimpses of the child she was, but the woman before me is fascinating.

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