Page 57 of Obey

Fuck, I hope they don’t have some overinvested local police force who will decide to declare all this to the feds.

I bring Maddox to the building and help him up the few stairs.

“I can’t treat him in this condition. Take your shoes off, and I’ll show you the bathroom.” Sheryl grimaces. “I don’t know how much I can help, but I’ll try. And Jim, these two are probably starving. Tell Rebecca to whip something up for everybody.”

“You don’t have to go out of your way like that, Doctor,” Maddox protests, but he takes his shoes off as directed. He manages a smile. “I’m sure you can just hose us down out here, too. No need for us to dirty up your house.”

Jim snorts. “She’ll just have Nayeem here clean up after you, don’t worry.”

“I will,” I promise. “Hot shower for both of us, and I’ll do all the laundry and clean not just our dirt trail, I’ll clean your entire fucking house.”

I catch Sheryl suppressing a smile. “We’ll see.”

She leads us to the bathroom, and Maddox and I both try our hardest not to touch more than necessary.

“Only one, sorry,” Sheryl says. “Shampoo and soap are in there already. Use as much as you need. Towels in the closet over there.” She waits until I nod, then leaves, closing the door behind her.

I let out a sigh of relief. “Let’s get out of these clothes,” I say, directing Maddox to sit on the toilet seat.

He sits with a groan, fumbling with his shirt. He lets out a hiss of pain. “I don’t think my shirt is as flimsy as yours, and we probably shouldn’t rip it,” he says, trying to joke but not quite managing.

“We’ll buy you a new fucking shirt,” I say. I check underneath the sink and am gratified to find the first aid kit, which has a pair of scissors inside. I use those to cut Maddox’s sleeve open, exposing the wound.

“Yeah, but I’ll need to wear something out of here,” he argues, for all that it’s too late now. “Ugh. Don’t… Don’t touch it too much. It already hurts just thinking about you moving that bandage.”

The bullet’s been festering in there for at least a day now. I don’t even want to know what the wound looks like underneath the makeshift bandage.

I grunt, for all that we both know I’m going to have to do just that.

When I peel back the fabric covering it, I hiss out a breath as I take in the sight of the red, inflamed site of the wound. “Fuck,” I mutter.

Maddox looks down at the wound. “Wow,” he says. “I didn’t know something could get that infected that fast.”

I cut the shirt off him entirely, then go for his belt. “Get out of these clothes. You need to get clean now.”

“Five minutes aren’t really going to make that big of a difference,” he points out, but he lets me help him out of the rest of his clothes.

Once they’re in a heap around his feet, I turn on the water, waiting impatiently for it to get warm. The tub is going to be absolutely filthy by the time we’re done with it, but I’d meant what I said. I’ll clean any and everything I have to in return for the doctor’s help.

Thankfully the shower head is detachable, and Maddox can sit in the tub while I start hosing him down. He grabs my hand when I get near his chest, though, and says, “You strip down too. I’m not the only filthy person here.”

He’s right, but I’m impatient to help him. “Mads, you’re the injured one. I can wait.”

Maddox gives me a tired glare, though a tiny smile briefly flits across his lips. “It’s like in airplanes. Do your own oxygen mask first.”

He has a point, I guess, in that it’ll be hard for me to clean him if my hands are filthy. “Fine,” I growl, giving him the showerhead and stripping as quickly as I can. The mud pulls at my body hair, and I’m going to have either the softest or the driest skin when this is all through. Don’t people do mud treatments or something?

I dump my clothes on top of Maddox’s. I stop next to the tub. “How are we doing this?”

He laughs. “I have no fucking idea.”

It’s not really funny, but I can’t help but smile at him anyway, however briefly.

“I guess we’ll get to go out there in just towels. Assuming they have one big enough for your big, hairy ass,” he says, starting to laugh harder. His shoulders shake with it, but he doesn’t even seem to notice the pain.

I smile and shake my head. “I meant, am I getting in the tub with you? Since we both need a rinse.”

“I don’t know if you’ll fit in here with me,” Maddox says. “And we’re going to clog this drain with all this mud. Jesus.” He shakes his head, and he shifts to allow me space to get into the tub with him, only for his smile to vanish as he winces.

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