Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Played doctor plenty in my time, love, but, no. I just know a thing or two.”
“I could take you to a hospital,” I offered. “But you’re going to get questioned there.”
“No. I mean, if I have to, okay. But I don’t want to.”
I moved out of the way so Spike could take my place.
“Mind if I get a look at that hand first?” he asked.
Carmen slowly moved her protective hand away and held the bad one out.
Something was broken.
It was swollen and bruised to high hell.
I could practically hear her thoughts as she looked down at it, a little whimper escaping her: she needed her hands to work; what was going to happen to her business if she couldn’t do any of the cleaning?
“Alright. I’m gonna press a little, but feel free to cuss me out if I hurt you,” Spike said. He was gentle, though, as he pressed and prodded at the top of her hand. “Okay. Your turn now. I need you to try to move each finger individually,” Spike instructed, then watched Carmen’s efforts. “I know. I suck,” he said when she finished and her lower lip wobbled. “But one more thing. Can you try to make a fist for me? Don’t force it if it really hurts, but do the best you can.”
Carmen narrowed her eyes at him, then slowly curled her hand. “Yeah,” Spike said as he watched her fist. “Looking like you broke the second and third metacarpals.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“See how they go slightly the wrong way? That’s a break.”
“You’re sure?”
“Broke mine more than a few times?”
“How?” Carmen asked.
“By slamming my fists into hard things. Mostly people’s jaws too many times. I’m basically a broken hand expert, so I can tell you that it’s gonna be a sucky four to eight weeks, but you just need to immobilize it.”
“With a cast?”
“Eh. I think we can get away with a good brace, if you promise to take it easy.”
“She will,” I assured him.
“I’ll go rummage around in the brace tote.”
“You have a brace tote?”
“A one-stop orthopedic shop,” Spike confirmed. “Sit tight for one minute, love.”
He got to his feet and nodded toward the basement door.
“One sec,” I said, touching the side of her head, then following Spike. “What’s up?”
“Got a feeling she’s bruised up in places she don’t want me to see. You know how to check her ribs?”
“Yeah. Broke and bruised mine, shit, three times. I know the signs.”
“Good. I’ll grab the brace, icepacks, and some pain meds and meet you in your room in twenty.”
“Thanks, man,” I said, slapping his shoulder before going back to Carmen.
“He’s nice.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “And it’s lucky he knows a thing or two about this kind of thing. Aside from the hand, what hurts the worst?”
“Everything hurts everywhere all at once.”
“From the fall onto your face?”
“Yeah, I think so. Each step hit me in a different spot.”
“How are your teeth?”
“They’re fine.”
“Didn’t bite your tongue?”
“No.”
“What about hitting your head?”
“My head hit one of the steps—the flat side, not the edge.”
“Any blurry vision, nausea, light sensitivity, dizziness?”
“No. My head hurts, but other than that, no.” She paused, watching my face. “It looks bad, doesn’t it?”
“You haven’t looked?”
“No. I was focused on trying to drive with one hand and not break down.”
“In that case… you look great. Never better. Not swollen or bruised at all.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“We’ll just… cover the mirrors until you don’t look so bad,” I offered.
That got a little laugh out of her.
“I’m sorry for barging in. I didn’t have your number to call you and ask if maybe this was related to you.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m glad you came here. Even if it didn’t have anything to do with me. You shouldn’t be alone after shit like that.”
“I don’t think I could have stayed there. I was relieved when Chip suggested I go to you. Just so I had an excuse to get out of the house.”
“You don’t need an excuse to come here.”
“I know things get… complicated here because of, like, your hierarchy or whatever.”
“Baby, trust me, a woman who was nearly kidnapped isn’t the craziest thing that has happened here.”
“I don’t know if you’re bullshitting me or not.”
“One day, a woman walked in here with a bomb strapped to her chest. So, yeah, trust me, this isn’t gonna get me in trouble.”
“A bomb? Seriously?”
“Yep. We got lucky that we have a few ex-military guys around here who could defuse it before anything tragic happened.”
“That’s insane.”
“The craziest part is that the woman and the guy who got her free are married and starting a family.”
“But what if this,” she said, gesturing at her face, “is my fault after all?”
“First of all, it’s never your fault when some asshole puts his hands on you. Second, who would be kidnapping you? Chicken Lady’s husband? Baseboard Guy? It makes more sense to assume this has to do with me. And third, trust me, Fallon doesn’t give a shit. He’s been through it all.”