Page 27 of Spider Demon's Kiss

“Someone did get you good,” he confirmed. “Remind me to go for the head next time I need to take someone out. I’m surprised you even made it here.”

After what felt like five stitches, he handed me a meal replacement drink and straw, closed my door and got into the passenger seat. To my relief, he didn’t ask me any questions. At least, not until I had gotten half of my drink down.

“You’re not planning on going home, are you?”

“Why not? I told you, I fell.”

“Into what? A bat?”

“It was a casserole dish, actually. My loving husband had just made me dinner.”

Lorenzo looked at me not knowing what to believe.

“You want to come up?” he asked unsure what else to say.

“I might need a minute before I can shift again. After that I’ll head home,” I told him embarrassed.

“Get out,” he said before switching seats with me and driving my car into his building’s underground parking lot.

Giving me another second before we got out of the car, I saw him texting someone.

“You’re gonna keep this shit between us, right?” I said in a way that let him know I was serious.

“What are you, insane? Of course,” he said continuing to text.

I let it go and eventually I could see straight for long enough to get out of the car and head to the elevator. Getting off on his floor, I saw a guy heading towards us in the hallway. Lorenzo was going to have to handle this because I couldn’t. I was the one covered in blood. I was in no position to threaten anyone into silence.

To my surprise, Lorenzo didn’t handle it. There was no need. The man didn’t look at either of us. What made it stranger was that Lorenzo didn’t look at him. It was like I was seeing someone who wasn’t there. He was, though. There was no doubt about that.

“Go clean up. I’ll bring you some clothes,” he told me as we entered his apartment.

With a reminder for which door was the bathroom, I headed in and slumped onto the basin. Looking up into the mirror, I wondered how I was still alive. My face was mostly blood. It looked like I had bathed in the shit.

How the fuck did I get myself into this? Was Kuroi really out to kill me? I couldn’t tell if he was doing a piss poor job of it or if he was toying with me.

And what did “How would you know?” mean? How did I know he was a crazy fuck? Because he threw a casserole dish at me. Or, was he suggesting something about what would happen if we had sex? How crazy good could fucking him be?

“I got these,” Lorenzo said bringing me back to the present.

I looked at the t-shirt and sweat pants in his hand. Was he kidding?

“It’s the only thing I have that would fit you.”

He was probably right. Not only was he shorter than my six foot four inches, he didn’t have my build.

“Sit down. I’ll do it,” he insisted when he saw that I was gripping onto the basin for dear life.

I slowly straightened my back and unbuttoned my shirt. When I took too long, he took over and pulled my shirt down past my shoulders. I looked away embarrassed that I couldn’t do this myself.

Even so, having Lorenzo clean me off felt familiar. Growing up, there were five of us, but it was more like there was me, and then there was Matteo, Giovanni, and Marco. Giovanni and Marco were too young to know any better, but Matteo used that to his advantage. The three of them would ambush me usually with Matteo hitting me in the head with one of the younger one’s toys.

Just because it was made for kids didn’t mean it couldn’t draw blood. When I wasn’t knocked unconscious, Matteo would immediately pay for it. But when I would gush like I did tonight, it was in everyone’s best interest that I be patched up as quickly as possible.

That was when Lorenzo stepped in. Lorenzo sewed his first butterfly stitch when he was ten. We all considered him neutral territory. It allowed him to get good at it. Because if Matteo drew blood, it was just a matter of time before I gave Matteo a limp for a month. It was amazing how that boy never learned his lesson. He has a thick head to this day.

All of that was before any of us could shift, of course. Once our wolves came out, we could heal most injuries by shifting. It was only on rare occasions that shifting wasn’t enough. When it wasn’t, Lorenzo would again take care us so Pa didn’t find out.

“I have Chinese if you’re still hungry,” he told me as he finished up.

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