Page 107 of Long Gone

“A friend who will keep this to herself,” he said in a tone that made it clear he wouldn’t be telling me much else.

I let it drop because putting one step in front of the other required all of my focus.

We walked through the front door and into the warm house. I barely paid attention to the cozy furnishings as Malcolm hauled me through a living room and into a kitchen.

The woman had her back turned to us, washing her hands at the kitchen sink, but she said, “The table’s cleaned off. Help her lie down.”

Sure enough, a long wooden table was situated at the end of the kitchen, chairs pulled away and scattered to the side. Nothing was on the table save for a stack of towels. The overhead lights were on, flooding the room with light, but there was also a desk lamp on the end.

The thought of lying down sent a wave of panic through me. “No,” I said. “I want to sit up.”

The woman whirled around to face us. She was younger than I’d expected. Probably mid to late twenties. Her mouth puckered as she took in the metal sticking out below my collar bone. “Fine, we’ll try it your way. For now.”

Malcolm led me to a chair closer to the table and helped me ease onto it. When my butt connected with the wooden seat, a fresh wave of pain swept through my body.

The woman walked over with a tray of medical equipment. She set it on the table next to my chair and stared into my face. Surprise filled her eyes.

“What’s Harper Adams doing in my kitchen, Skeeter?” she asked in a harsh tone.

Skeeter. Carter had told me that’s what people called him back in Fenton County. Was this woman from Fenton County too?

“She’s here to get fixed up, Delaney.”

Delaney didn’t look happy, but she turned her attention to the metal sticking out of my chest. “How’d this happen?”

“Gunshots through a metal door,” I said. “I was standing too close.”

She lifted her gaze to Malcolm. When he didn’t counter my claim, she slowly lifted a hand to my chest. “This might hurt.” Her fingers began to prod the area around the shard, and I cried out.

“It’s deep,” she said, still prodding, “but I don’t think it’s hit anything critical.”

“Why’d it bleed so much?” Malcolm asked.

“Might’ve nicked a small artery or vein,” she said. “But it looks like it’s slowed down. Probably gonna start back up when I pull it out.” She looked up at him, her face tight. “There’s a small chance we’ll need to cauterize it.”

“How do you plan to do that?” I asked, my heart rate spiking.

“Not how I’d prefer,” she said, then picked up a handful of gauze. “Skeeter, hold her back in the chair so she doesn’t move.”

Before I could protest, he was behind my chair, gripping my upper arms and pinning me as Delaney grabbed the shard and yanked it out.

Fire radiated from my collar bone and spread out, making me see dots. I released a long string of curses under my breath.

Delaney quickly placed the gauze on my wound and pressed hard to stop the bleeding. The pain stole my breath, and my instinct was to shove her away. But Malcolm held me firmly, even as black dots in my vision seemed to grow larger and my peripheral vision faded. I was on the verge of passing out, but I couldn’t let that happen. I needed to know everything that happened in this room.

“You’re still conscious,” Delaney said with a smirk. “That’s a good sign.”

I wanted to tell her to get the hell away from me, but I also wanted her to fix this. Still, I had to wonder if it was a good idea letting someone who obviously didn’t want me here have my life in her hands.

After she’d applied pressure for nearly a minute, she removed the gauze and examined the wound. “It’s pretty damn deep, but I think she’ll be okay.” She grabbed some fresh gauze and pressed it to my chest. “Obviously, she’s gonna need stitches.” She looked over my head at Malcolm. “Put on some gloves and keep pressure on her wound while I get the lidocaine.”

He let go of my arms and took the gloves she held out with her free hand. He quickly slipped them on, then took over pressing as she reached for a needle attached to a syringe and a small bottle.

Malcolm squatted in front of me, giving me a blank look. “Did you see the guys who broke in?”

“Not that closely.”

“Define not that closely.”