Page 42 of Shame

“How much longer is he gonna be?” Spam shouts at a doctor walking by. The doctor raises his brow, pulling his attention from the file he’s looking through.

“Who are you looking for?” he asks gently, as if he isn’t afraid. But of course he is. Anyone in their right mind would be intimidated standing in a room full of us.

“Fucking Rhino, that’s who!” Spam says, throwing his arms up.

“I’ll check and let you know.” The doctor gives a small smile and keeps walking. Not sure he’ll come back, but I guess there’s a chance.

“Mother fucking bullshit,” Spam says under his breath, pacing.

It’s mostly quiet and I think maybe I fall asleep, until Coyote and Grizz get here and everyone gets all riled up. Our guys bombard them with questions, but Coyote raises a hand and they all shush. He comes right to me. Of course he does. I’m the fucking VP; why wouldn’t he?

“What’s going on here?” he asks.

“Just waiting on Rhino to get some stitches and we can get outta here. What about you?”

“Same shit,” he says. “They throw around some threats and when they see we ain’t budging, they give up and let us go.”

“Bullshit,” I mutter, closing my eyes again.

“Maybe you should go wash that blood off your face. You’re going to scare that pretty cop.”

I open my eyes, not sure who he’s talking to, until I see him smirking at me.

I need to wash the blood off my face?

I have a startling realization then, and jerk upright, pulling my phone out to check the time.

“Motherfucker,” I growl as I get to my feet. “I gotta go,” I say to Coyote, who is watching me carefully. “You good here?” I walk backwards, hoping like hell he says yes cause I’m going anyway.

“‘Course we’re good,” he says, and I can’t tell if he’s going to use this against me later or not. As I jog away from the crowd, I faintly hear someone shouting something about getting fifteen stitches, and bet it’s Rhino bragging, the idiot. I don’t have to time to worry about that. Not about him, not about his stupid stitches. Because I stood my girl up, and that shit ain’t cool.

I don’t have time to stop home and get the hose for her washer. I’ll have to fix that another day. Right now, there’s something much more important I need to fix. This time of night, my bike sounds like a train as I drive down the quiet roads. Deer scatter, running for their lives. Wouldn’t be surprised if I saw something bigger either. It’s common out here.

I pull into the driveway and hurry to the door. Raising my hand to knock, I pause, not wanting to wake her father.

Damnit. Stepping back and looking left and right, I decide to go around the house to where her bedroom is, hoping she’s in there. Hoping I even get the right room, first of all. I move across the porch but get a glimpse into the living room through the slightly parted curtains and see her asleep on the couch. Dressed all cute in a lilac sundress. I wait just a minute, watching her sleeping so peacefully before I go back to the door and knock. When she doesn’t answer, I do it again, this time slightly louder. I breathe a sigh of relief when I hear footsteps inside the house. There’s a pause, probably as she looks through the peephole, and then the door is unlocked and pulled open.

Her eyes are frantic, and I expect her to be mad at me, as she should be, but anger isn’t what comes out of her mouth.

“What happened to you? Are you okay? Why are you covered in blood?”

Fuck. I forgot to clean my damn face. I bet I look like a fucking monster.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I say, trying to rub at it, but I know it ain’t doing me any good.

Her tiny hands grab my wrists and tug me inside with more force than I thought she’d have. I mean, I kind of let her do it. No way her small body could really pull me like that, but still, it’s kinda sexy.

Cora drags me through the living room and kitchen, into the bathroom. She shoves the shower curtain aside and points at theedge of the tub. Wanting me to sit, I guess. Not the best place for that, but the toilet seat is a definite no, as the sink is across from it and there ain’t enough space for us. Hell, I can hardly fit over there myself.

She digs around in the medicine cabinet, muttering to herself. The faucet is turned on for a moment and then shut off. I can’t see her, since the wall of the shower is between us. Well, I can see her ass from here, and it’s real nice. When she takes a step back, I jerk back, not wanting to get caught staring and lose my balance, falling into the wall, my ass slipping into the tub.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” she says, rushing to me. “Are you dizzy? Can you see okay?” She’s in my face, worried as hell, spewing all kinds of questions at me ‘cause she thinks I lost my balance over my injury. She’s so fucking cute. I right myself, sitting up straight again.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I promise.”

Her lips purse and she nods, then grabs everything she gathered and tosses it on the top of the wicker hamper against the wall beside us. Taking the wet cloth, she wipes at my face, her other hand gently holding my chin in place. My eyes fall closed, and I let out a sigh because this feels damn fucking good. I’ve never had someone take care of me before and I didn’t think I’d like it so much. Her hands on me, taking care of me. Not that I need it or anything, but it’s nice. Real fucking nice. She pats the towel along my forehead, my eyebrows, down the right side of my face. She stops just to rinse it and then goes back to doing it again.

“Does this hurt?” she asks as she brushes some hair back.

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