Page 10 of Mob Princess

3

Bonnie

I presseda warm washcloth against Israel’s skin and he winced. It seemed that every time I touched him with anything nowadays, he winced. But, even more so now that he had stitches and some light bruising from the altercation in the kitchen earlier.

It already seemed like lightyears away. Like the intruder that had burst into this place happened days ago, or something. One sin was blurring into another, obscuring the passing of minutes and hours that clocked the days since I had turned my back on my own family. I didn’t know which way was up any longer. I didn’t know who to trust and who to rely on. What I did know, however, was this:

Hell raining down on us wouldn’t stop until either side was dead.

“Argh. Fuck, Bonnie. Come on,” Israel hissed.

I glared at him. “Hold. Still.”

“It hurts.”

“Of course, it hurts. It’s stitches. Now, stop moving.”

I pierced his skin with the sterilized needle and he jumped again, forcing me to start over. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and let out a hefty sigh, trying my best not to get frustrated with him. I mean, he had saved my life and all, and I wanted to respect him for that. But, this was getting a bit ridiculous. Even I tolerated pain better than he did, it seemed.

“Damn it,” he grumbled.

“Seriously, Israel, do I need to call the doctor again? He’ll have a numbing solution for you, I’m sure. And I’ll douse you in it if it’ll keep you fucking still.”

He scoffed “I don’t want anyone in this house right now except you and me. Which by the way, we need to talk, so tuck in that attitude of yours.”

I stuck his back again. “Yeah, I’m sure we do.”

He ripped away from me. “Ah!”

I reached for him. “Damn it, Israel. Suck it up for a second and—”

He peered over his shoulder at me. “Now, you’re doing it on purpose.”

“Well, if you would stop moving, it wouldn't hurt as much.”

“And if you want to survive this, I suggest you stop hurting me intentionally. Might give me the wrong idea.”

I snickered. “It’s your fault if you think I’m not on your side in all of this. I’ve abandoned the only family I’ve ever known because they’re trying to kill me right now.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t try to kill me once they stop.”

I stood up. “Yep. I’m calling you a doctor.”

He sighed. “Wait.”

I paused, still holding the needle in my hand. “What?”

He grunted as he shifted. “I’ll hold still. Just—just listen to me while you work. All right?”

I peeked over my shoulder. “You’ll hold very still?”

“As still as a weed in the dead of night.”

I blinked. “Fine.”

I made my way back to his side and knelt back down. With the needle firmly in my hands and his knees firmly planted into the hardwood flooring, he gripped the edges of the couch while I sewed the small puncture wound in his back. He was good at not moving, though his sweating had me a bit on edge.

“Are you sure you don’t need—”

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