Page 109 of Long Gone

When she finished, she ripped off her gloves and tossed them into the plastic suture tray. “My debt is paid, Malcolm. Don’t come to me again.”

He didn’t agree or disagree.

I took a swig from my water, finishing it off. I wanted to get out of here.

“Keep your sutures clean and dry. They’ll be ready to come out in a week.” She shot Malcolm a dark look. “I won’t be the one removing them.”

“Thank you,” I said, getting up, but a wave of dizziness nearly made me fall over. I grabbed the back of the chair.

She picked up the tray and carried it to her trash can. “You lost a lot of blood,” she said, keeping her back to me. “Be sure to keep drinking water.”

I’d already thanked her, so I limped to the front door, gasping when the cold night air hit my bare stomach and chest. Malcolm didn’t follow me out, so I walked around the back of the car, headed toward the driver’s door. I only hoped he’d left the keys in the car.

I reached for the car door as Malcolm called out, “You gonna drive in nothing but your bra?”

“I’m also wearing jeans. And besides, I rode here this way. I can ride home this way.” I pulled on the door handle, and it wouldn’t open. Dammit. Once again, I hadn’t thought something through. He had the keys, and the door was locked.

He descended the steps toward the car. “You really think going home is a good idea? You want to stay in the place you just got shot at?”

“They shot at the door, not me, and I sincerely doubt they’ll come back.”

He walked up next to me. “The door to your apartment is ruined.”

“Then I’ll stay in my mom’s house. She’s not there, so she won’t know.”

Malcolm pulled my keys out of his pocket. “I’m driving. You lost a lot of blood, and I don’t want you passing out and killing us both after I went to all that trouble to get you stitched up.”

I wanted to argue with him, but I had to admit passing out was a possibility. I walked around the front of the car to the passenger door. The car beeped as Malcolm unlocked it. I grabbed the handle and pulled the door open, feeling a tug and a sharp pain. I stopped and let the pain pass before I got into the car.

We were silent for the first few minutes of the drive. The numbing medication was still working, but there was a deeper ache in my chest. I again wondered why Malcolm had Delaney in his back pocket. People involved in organized crime often had their own doctors to patch up injuries that would draw too many questions in an ER.

Was this proof he was up to no good here? Maybe he hadn’t left his life of crime behind after all. Then again, I supposed I already had plenty of evidence of that. Murdering two men in cold blood was about as criminal as you could get.

“So do you have Delaney on speed dial or did you have to search up her contact info?” I asked sarcastically.

He was slow to answer, but then he glanced at me with a grin. “Jealous?”

“Jealous?” I asked with a laugh. “Hardly. I’m trying to find out how deep you are in criminal activity and if it’s too late to cut ties with you.”

He laughed. “Sorry to disappoint. Delaney’s a customer at the tavern, and she owed me a favor. That’s all.”

Maybe that was true, but I suspected it wasn’t a legal favor.

He pulled into the driveway of my parents’ home. The door to my apartment was gaping open.

“I need to get the doorway to my apartment boarded up until I can get the door replaced,” I said as Malcolm turned off the engine.

“Deal with it tomorrow.” He opened his door and got out.

I opened my car door, and to my surprise, Malcolm appeared at the opening and offered a hand to help me out. I almost refused, but I was exhausted and sore, and I decided it wouldn’t be the worst thing to accept his help.

I took his hand with my left hand, feeling the rough calluses on his palm. He easily pulled me up, then released my hand. After he shut the door, he stayed by my side as we walked to the back door.

After he opened the door, I was greeted with the bloody mess we’d left on the kitchen table. My stomach sank at the sight.

“Clean it tomorrow,” Malcolm said gruffly. “You need to go to bed.”

“Good idea,” I said. “We’ll talk about what to do next in the morning.”

---