Page 42 of All Your Pain

Wow, am I really that predictable?

“It’s only dangerous if you don’t know how to use it. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing, sweet girl.”

Sweet girl.My insides completely melt and I swear my heart just somersaulted in my chest.

No! No no no.

I’m not falling for it.

I’m crazy if I find comfort in that after just hearing about how he became an actual murderer.

I look away as I start to panic and he gently cups my cheek drawing me back to him. I’m sure my feelings are clear on my face so I practically launch myself at him. He groans as our mouths connect and I straddle his lap.

The distraction works too well as I feel myself starting to forget everything that’s not the feel of his mouth on mine.

We’re both fully clothed and it doesn’t feel right. I grab his shirt and start pulling it over his head. His eyes are burning bright blue as he looks at me. Then he undresses me before unzipping his own pants and I feel his cock nudging at my entrance. As my hands glide over his shoulders they touch something warm and sticky.

“What the…,” I say looking at my hand. “You’re bleeding.” I get off his lap and turn another light on so I can look at his back. There’s a nasty looking cut on his shoulder blade.

“Ignore it, come sit on my lap and finish what you started.”

“No. We have to get this cleaned up. You might need a doctor.”

I head to the bathroom to wet a clean washcloth with some warm water and bring it back to wipe the wound. Dean’s still sat on the bed staring at me with wide eyes as I start to clean him.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re hurt. I’m helping,” I say like it’s obvious. “This will probably sting but I guess you’re used to that by now.” I look at his other old wounds and wonder if he’s ever had anyone that’s not a doctor tend to any of them. I quite like the thought of being the first.

He doesn’t say anything or even move as I wipe the blood away. I can’t tell how deep of a cut it is but it looks clean and the bleeding's slow.

“What do I do next?”

“What?” He clears his throat and blinks like he’s coming back to reality.

I hope it didn’t hurt too much. You’d think after everything he’s done to me I’d want him to hurt just as much. He clearly already has though and the thought of him going through any more pain makes my heart ache.

“I think it’s clean, but it looks like it needs more than a bandage.”

“Oh, right, I’ve got stuff in the bathroom.” He gets up and walks away from me. I follow him and watch as he looks at the cut in the bathroom mirror. He stretches it open with his fingers and says, “it’s not that deep but it’ll still need stitching up.” My own skin stings at the sight of him touching it like that. That’s really gotta hurt.

“How did you not notice a cut like that?”

“The fucker must have got me when he lunged at me.”

Oh right, hisjob.He talks about it like it isn’t ridiculously dangerous and he could get himself killed if it went wrong. He’d getmekilled if he didn’t come back one day.

He reaches up to the top of a tall cabinet and pulls down a first aid kit.

“How are you going to stitch it up?” I ask, watching him pull out a needle, thread and a small bottle of alcohol. I’m already squirming from just the idea of the needle breaking through his skin and then the thread getting pulled through it. I try not to gag.

“You’re going to do it.”

“I am not!”

“If you don’t then I’ll be gone all night visiting the doctor.”

Is not being alone really worth sticking a needle into him?Well, he is asking for it. Even if I end up hurting him that doesn't make me as bad as him.

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