Page 24 of Stables

I shake my head while pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. “Nope. Should I?”

Pushing the slip of plastic back towards Wade, I pick up the Simmons chart and flip through it.

Glass in a head wound.

Hard to feel bad for him.

“That’s Judge Simmons’ kid,” Wade says in a hushed tone. “Every charge on him gets dropped.” Wade clicks his tongue against his teeth with a grimace. “And there’s a line of them that never saw the light of day.”

Fuck. Of course.

My jaw ticks. “So then…he walks?”

Wade’s lips thin. “Probably by tomorrow afternoon.”

All I can muster is a grunt as I brush past him and throw the curtain open.

Blood mats the dark hair I saw in the picture, but it’s shorter now.

The smirk is the same.

“Well, Mr. Simmons, it looks like you saw the bad side of a bottle today?” I drop his papers on the end of the stretcher and step closer. “Let’s take a look at that scalp.”

“The asshole just got a lucky shot.” He winces when I peel some of the matted clots apart. Pieces of broken brown glass stick up in slivers around a jagged slash.

Unfortunately, it isn’t very deep or serious.

I don’t miss the bruises on his knuckles. “Looks like you got him back?” Rolling out the suture set, I pump up the rolling stool to get a good seat.

“Huh?” He tries to turn to watch me.

“Your hands. Please don’t move.” Or do, and let me make this hurt. I’d be okay with that.

He picks up his handcuffed arm and flexes his fingers, showing off the scuffs across the back. “Nah, I did that yesterday.”

My fist tightens around the tweezers as rage boils within me.

He had a beautiful woman and an adorable baby, and these are the choices he makes?

Filth.

Would anyone notice if I stabbed the instrument into the top of his skull?

Probably.

“You got in a fight two days in a row?” I don’t go gentle pulling a wedged shard. In fact, I may have let it dig just a bit before removing it.

His feet point and buck, but he doesn’t cry out.

I guess I’ll have to try harder.

“No, I did this against my truck. I got ran off from my woman by some crazy bitch with a gun.” The cuffs clink when I jerk a sharp edge into the skin.

“Yours, huh?” My pitch drops.

A pinch hits me low in the gut.

Paisley and Char with their big blue eyes flicker in my mind.

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