Page 84 of Boxed In

When Valero didn’t say anymore, she donned a gown and mask and waited for the doctor to scrub his hands and put on gloves. Then they both stepped into a small operating room.

Luke had his eyes fixed on the door. As soon as he saw her with the box, he seemed to relax.

She hurried to his side and reached for his hand, holding tight as the doctor walked to the other end of the table. A drape made it impossible for her to see what was happening down there, and she was grateful for that because she didn’t want to watch the bullet being dug out.

But she saw the pain on Luke’s face as Valero worked.

Luke stayed absolutely silent, but the way he gripped her hand told her that the procedure hurt.

It seemed to take centuries, but finally she heard the doctor make a satisfied sound. Coming around to Luke’s other side, he held up the bullet in his gloved hand. “Here it is.”

“Thank you,” Olivia murmured, and Luke echoed the sentiment. His brow was covered with sweat, and his skin was gray, but the bullet was out.

“It’s going to take time for that to heal,” the doctor said.

“I can speed the process—with healing techniques I have learned,” the patient said, and she knew it was Zabastian talking.

The doctor answered with a little shrug.

He and the nurse transferred Luke to a gurney again and wheeled him into a smaller room. She stayed by his side, still clutching the box.

Finally, Luke was settled into a hospital bed. He lay still and pale against the pillow, with his eyes closed. When she sat down in the chair beside him, his eyes blinked open again and focused on her.

Frank came in and asked, “How do you feel?”

“Not so bad.”

“Oh sure,” Olivia muttered.

“Thank you for staying with me.”

“I’ll do what you need me to do.”

When she pressed her hand over Luke’s, he turned the hand over and knitted his fingers with hers. “Help me stay awake.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Help me.”

“Okay.”

“Tell me about your life.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I want to hear more about where you grew up,” he whispered. “You said in Catonsville?”

“Yes. In an old house with a big yard. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we had a lot of love. And all the neighborhood kids were always at my house. Sometimes we’d have six or seven of them for lunch. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and canned soup.”

“What did you play?” he murmured, and she wondered how long he could stay awake.

“We’d make forts on the porch, with a couple of sheets over two card tables. And in hot weather, we had a lemonade stand. And a wading pool in the backyard. We’d move it to a place in the yard where the ground had sunk in a little, so we’d have a deep spot in the pool.”

“Um.”

“And we’d squirt each other with the hose.”

He made a barely audible sound. “What did you do in winter?”

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