Page 6 of Reaper Released

“Look, woman, I'm trying to help! You’ve lost some blood, you’re about to pass the fuck out, just steady yourself on the wall and let me fucking help, okay?”

Glancing over her shoulder and looking me dead in the eye, she says, “I don’t like… being… touched. Especially by people I don’t know!”

“Okay, bare minimum contact. Just support yourself on the wall, okay?” Looking back at the wall, she nods and takes a deep breath as I scrub and rinse her hair.

She sags against the wall. I grab her around her waist to hold her up, and she hisses out in pain.

“Sorry! You good?” Taking another deep breath, she shudders at my touch. Nodding, I grab a washcloth and scrub quickly at her skin to get most of the blood off. She still has the fabric tied around her waist and bicep, but the one on her leg she took off with her jeans. That one’s running with blood. I rinse her off.

“Let's get you out so I can look at the wounds.” She steps out of the shower and she drops onto the toilet.

“I can do it myself.” She gasps as she bends forward, resting her head between her knees. I step out of the bathroom and sling on some clean boxers. I take the med kit back into the bathroom, putting it onto the counter beside her. She sits up and reaches over, flipping the lid and grabbing out the suture kit. Grabbing the tequila from the counter, she pours it straight onto her leg.

She hisses out, “Shit, fuck!”

“That’s the first time I’ve been called a shit-fuck before I’ve even got my cock in.”

Glaring at me, she spits, “Real funny, big man!”

She rips at the suture kit with her teeth while wiping the wound with some gauze. She threads the needle and starts to stitch herself up, pinching the wound together on her thigh.

“Not the first time you’ve done this, huh?”

“Nope,” is all she says as she continues stitching, eighteen in total, neat as fuck. Then she rips the fabric off her left bicep and pours more tequila on it.

“Bullet?” I question.

“Just a graze,” she replies but continues to stitch it with approximately ten more stitches. It’s not just a graze, but I keep my mouth shut. Then there's a knock at the door, and it swings open.

“Steel?”

“In here, Barbie!” My voice echoes around the bathroom, and I think I see her shudder and her skin pebble. I look down at her as Barbie comes into the bathroom.

“Fuck, Ray!”

She looks up at him, softening. “I’m good, Barbie, thanks, don’t worry, okay?” She smiles at him, a kind smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Barbie slides the tray onto the counter and I frown at it.

“What the fuck is all this?”

He shrugs at me. “It’s what she likes.” She smiles at him again, reaching out for his hand, a genuine eye-creasing sunshine smile as he grips her hand for a second, nods and backs out of the room. I’d just asked him for a burger, like she said, but he’s brought in a chocolate shake, burger with cheese, lettuce and tomato, fries and onion rings.

What the fuck? He never cooks like this for us. He’s more a basic kind of guy. If you ask for a burger, you get a thin frozen burger and a bun, that’s it! This fucker looks homemade, juicy.

She clearly has the guys wrapped around her finger. I think back to how not one of them had looked to Ares for instruction. Thinking about it, I hadn’t either!

There’s a moan that breaks me from my thoughts, and my eyes shoot to meet hers as she moans around that fucking burger. Jesus, I’m screwed! After a few more bites, she swallows it down with the shake.

Then, taking a deep breath, she asks, “Are there some tweezers in there?” She points at the med kit.

Cocking my head at her, I ask, “What the fuck you need tweezers for?”

Pointing at her side which still has the fabric wrapped around it, “Bullet,” is all she says.

I shake my head. “We need Doc for that.” I grab my phone out of my pocket to see how long he will be, but she grabs onto my wrist. The contact burns, staring at where she holds me. It feels like the whole world just stops, stops spinning, stops everything. I look into her eyes, and they’re swirling grey, almost like a tornado. She gives me a pleading look, telling me that she doesn’t want anyone else to see her like this.

“It's just Doc! You know him, right?” She nods, taking a deep breath. She releases my wrist, and the whole world shifts and starts spinning again. I almost feel like I’m about to lose my balance. What the fuck is happening? I call Doc. “Bullet removal, my room, now!”

A few minutes later, he walks in. Leaving her in the bathroom, I go to meet him at the door. I explain that she doesn’t want to be touched, so he has to make it quick. I lay a towel on the bed and fetch her over, supporting her as I lay her down.

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