Witness in the Dark (Love Under Fire #1)(33)

At first, he’d been content to let her little act play out, but he’d soon realized he would never get to sleep if he didn’t check her over. He needed to make sure he hadn’t misinterpreted the level of her injuries. So he’d gone back out of her bedroom and relocked it.

She pulled open the door a crack and offered him an innocent smile. “What do you need?”

He walked away without answering, just gave her a stern look. He needed her out of that room and into the kitchen where the light was bright enough to see if she was spurting blood from her back like a whale.

Also, he didn’t trust himself in her bedroom. If she looked up at him again with the help-me eyes and the I-trust-you smile, he’d end up kissing her.

While he’d had an excuse for kissing her before—albeit a lame one and not technically an excuse—he had no reason to kiss her now.

No matter how much he might want to.

Thankfully, she opened the door followed him down the hall. On the island in the kitchen was a medical kit which he kept well-stocked at all times.

“Let me see your hand,” he demanded. He should have been nicer about it, but he couldn’t fathom why she hadn’t chewed him out, or so much as uttered a single complaint. What was wrong with her?

“It’s fine,” she said as he took a bag of ice from the freezer and handed it to her. She eyed the bag, not taking it.

“It’s for your shoulder. The one the rifle kicked the shit out of all day.”

Reluctantly, she raised the bag to her shoulder.

“First take off your shirt,” he ordered.

Her eyes went wide. “No! Why?” she asked when he just waited.

“So I can see the wound on your back. The one that’s gushing blood,” he said through clenched teeth.

Her eyes went even wider. “How did you—”

“It’s my job to protect you, Sam. I wouldn’t be doing a very good job if I saved you from Howe but let you fucking bleed to death.”

She swallowed. “No. I’ll be fine.”

God. Was she being modest? Or just stubborn? Modesty was overrated when one was about to expire from blood loss.

Sure, he had wondered on more than one occasion what she looked like naked. She was put together pretty well, and he was a man with a working dick and eyes. But he wasn’t trying to get her naked.

At least, not at the moment.

“Sam, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not trying anything here. I need to see how bad your injury is. Now take off the damn shirt.”

She huffed and pulled off the shirt. She peeked down at her pink lacy tank top and her cheeks turned an adorable, even darker shade of pink. She held the shirt in front of her chest as he moved around to her back.

“What the fuck?” He frowned down at the mess of tissues and electrical tape glued to her back.

She swiveled around on the chair and snapped, “What?”

“Your first aid skills could use some work.”

“You don’t have any bandages in the medicine cabinet.”

He rolled his eyes. “Right. Because a bandage would have made all the difference.” He pulled off the electrical tape, trying to be gentle. “I’m going to have to stitch this up.”

“Do you know how?” she demanded.

“Sure. I took a class. What’s this tattoo?” It had been under the makeshift bandage—some kind of winged creature, but now there was a huge gash taking out its head. “A dragon?” He squinted as he tried to make it out.

“Yeah. It was cool until I realized I was a cliché,” she said sardonically.

He chuckled. Even in pain, she had a sense of humor. “Well, the dragon has officially been slain.” He moved around her, took her hand, and examined it more closely. “This will be okay to just glue.”

Her jaw dropped. “Glue?”

“Yep. It might hurt a little when I clean it properly.”

“A little?” She bit her lip, looking more sexy than worried.

The sight made his dick stand up and take notice. “I’m giving you a shot for the pain and one to numb your back. I’ll take care of your hand while the shot takes effect.”

She paled a little when he picked up the hypodermic needle. It was small, but he knew from experience it was going to hurt like a bitch.

“Get ready. One, two—”

“Ouch! Son of a— You didn’t even say three.”

“You would have flinched if I had.”

“I would not.”

“Everyone flinches when you get to three. Everyone.”

He did his best not to stare at her breasts as he took her hand to clean it. She’d forgotten to hold up the shirt and it had slipped down precariously.

God help me.

After cleaning the cut thoroughly with three different substances, he pulled out a tube of normal, run-of-the-mill superglue. He pulled off the red cap and squeezed.

“Did you know superglue was originally invented for this very purpose?” He shared that stupid bit of trivia while he waved her hand in the air, wanting to distract himself as much as her.

“I was not aware. I can die happy now, knowing I’m schooled in all things superglue.”

“Actually, the goal is to make sure you don’t die, remember? Do you want me to write that down and hang it on the fridge so you don’t forget?”