Page 59 of Fixate

Bayou grips my good shoulder. “Yeah, brother. We’ll figure something out. You get out of here. Is Maxxy still at the club?”

Somehow the thought of seeing her calms me. “Yeah, she’s here.”

“Good… go to her. Get her to take care of you tonight. She loves looking after you,” Bayou states.

Nodding, I start walking to the exit. “Appreciate it.”

Grudge opens the door. “We got your back, brother. Always do.” I step out into the bitter night air, and he closes the door behind me.

I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding as I shake my head, just thinking about what the fuck went down in there.

“What thehellhave you done?” I mumble to myself and take off for the clubhouse doors.

As I walk inside, City spots me first, Izzy sitting on his lap, and his eyes widen, taking in the blood. He lifts her off him and rushes over to me. “Is everyone okay?” he asks, striding beside me as I walk for my med kit.

“Charlotte was brainwashed. As soon as we started badmouthing Anton, a switch flicked inside her. She attacked me with a scalpel, hence the blood… but ahh, I had no choice. She was possessed.”

City nods, rubbing at his chin. “All right… the other guys cleaning it up?”

Nodding, I reach for my kit, then slump into the nearest seat. “Yeah… got a couple of stab wounds in my shoulder I need to patch up. It will be a little tricky, but I should be able to manage.”

City scrunches up his face. “Bullshit. I know what Charlotte meant to you, and I’m not letting you punish yourself. Izzy, get your fine little ass over here,” he yells to his Old Lady.

She walks quickly, her eyes lingering on my wounds. Instantly, she slides my cut over my shoulders and starts lifting my shirt over my head before I even have a second to say anything. “Let me see,” she offers.

I groan, letting her help because, if I am honest, this hurts more than I care to admit.

A slow trail of blood runs down my torso, and Izzy huffs. “Okay, I’m not great at suturing because, you know, I’m a physical therapist, not a surgeon, and it’s been a hell of a long time since I was taught how to do it—”

“I trust you, Iz,” I interrupt and continue, “It doesn’t need to be pretty.”

She pulls open the supply box, grabs the lidocaine, and I tap her hand, shaking my head. “Iz… I can’t… City, grab me some bourbon, will ya?”

Izzy stares at me with a horrified look on her face. “Hoodoo, you have to let me numb it, even if it’s just a little bit?”

“Na! You got this, Iz,” I tell her.

City hands me a half-empty bottle of Jim Beam Black Label. I swipe it from him, undo the lid, and take a long gulp. The amber liquid burns all the way down, igniting my insides and making me feel so fucking warm and tingly.

Exactly what I need right now.

She glances at City, and he nods at her encouragingly as she pulls on a pair of gloves, then removes an antiseptic wipe. “I can’t believe you’re doing this without numbing, Hoodoo. Are you sure?” she asks, wiping away the excess blood and cleaning the area.

“Izzy, I go through my daily life without meds. I went through my entire time in the hospital after being poisoned without pain meds… this isnothing.Go ahead.”

Her expression is pained. She hesitates but picks up the suturing kit anyway and cranes her neck to the side. “Okay, but if you flinch and punch me from the pain, you’re gonna have City to answer to.”

I snort out a laugh and take another long swig of the bourbon. “I’m ready. You got this, Iz.”

She inhales deeply, then exhales and leans forward with the needle and thread. I tense, waiting for the sharp pinch. “Okay, here we go,” she says more to herself than me. The needle slides into my skin, and I clench my eyes shut, fighting the intense burn that sears through me. I grit my teeth as she continues to sew my stab wounds. It hurts like a motherfucker, but I don’t let Izzy know that this is so fucking painful that I want to scream.

Breathing in and out through my nose like a wounded bull, I try to keep as still as possible while she slowly works on the three stab wounds. It feels like it takes fucking forever, but eventually, she ties off the last suture, cutting the nylon thread. “Okay, we’re all done. You really are a trooper, Hoodoo.”

“Don’t know about that.” I let out a sigh.

She wipes the wounds again with another antiseptic wipe to clean the area, then places a waterproof bandage over the top. “Sorry, it’s not perfect, but it should hold.”

I reach out, grabbing her shaking hand. “Hey… you did great. Thank you. I really appreciate it, Izzy.”

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