Page 6 of Ace

Wow.A gentleman biker.I doubted I’d get this much consideration if I’d gone to the emergency room.More likely, some overworked nurse would have told me to suck it up and get over myself.

Taking my shirt off proved to be more difficult than I’d anticipated.Raising my left arm past my shoulder hurt like hell, pulling the wound on my side tight.After a few unsuccessful attempts, I realized this was not a one-woman job.

“Ace?”

“Yeah.You done?”

“Um.No.I think you’ll have to cut it off me.I can’t raise my arm high enough and there’s not enough stretch in it for me to just pull it over my head.Plus, it’s sticking to all that blood.Pulling it off is going to hurt even more than it already does.”

He peeked over the top of the towel.“You sure you want to do that?”

“It’s not like I’m going to be wearing this shirt out to dinner any time soon.”

“Right.I’ll go find something to cut it with.”

The towel came down, and Ace headed toward the kitchen.

“So.”Joker took a seat beside me.“You and Ace aren’t an item?”

I shook my head.“No.”

“I’m currently single as well.”He grinned suggestively.

“Knock it off.”Ace returned, a wicked-looking knife in his hand.“She’s not here looking for a hookup.”

Joker’s eyes twinkled, and he smirked knowingly.“Thought so.”He eyed up the knife.“I realize you’re trying to impress her and all, but a pair of scissors would have worked just as well.”

“Don’t have any.”Ace shrugged.“The knife is sharp enough.”

“I’m sure it is.Be careful,” said Joker, serious now.“She’s lost enough blood already.”

“She’ll be okay, though?She doesn’t need a transfusion or anything?”

“Relax.It’s not as bad as it looks.Since we’re cutting the shirt, anyway, just chop off the side so I can dress the wound.That way we won’t have to worry about you being flashed with her titties.”

The glare Ace directed at the medic would have made me laugh if I wasn’t in so much pain.My antics in trying to get the shirt off had started the wound bleeding again and woke up every nerve along the gash.I gritted my teeth.“Can we just get on with it?”

Ace knelt down beside me.“Try to hold still and let me know if I’m hurting you.”

He used that knife like he’d been born with it, slicing the side of my shirt off without applying any pressure to the throbbing bullet wound.That probably should have scared me, but I was just grateful he managed it.

“Get me a pail of warm water, and some towels.”Joker rolled his sleeves up, his attention focused on my mangled side.“Rags if you have them.Bloodstains are murder to get out of fabric.”He winked at me.“Get it?Murder?”

“And now you know why we call him Joker.”Ace shook his head and headed down the hallway.“Despite all evidence to the contrary, he thinks he’s funny.”

“I’m going to give you a shot to freeze the area before I start.It should kick in pretty quick.”Now all business, Joker opened the leather satchel and pulled out a needle and a bottle of liquid.“I’m used to dealing with a bunch of gnarly old bikers.I’ll try to be gentle.”

I’m not sure what was in that bottle, but within minutes my side was numb.He worked fast, cleaning the wound and applying some type of ointment on it before adding a few butterfly bandages in the worst areas, then covering it all with a loose layer of gauze.

“That should do for now.”He shot a satisfied look at Ace.“The biggest worry is infection, so I’m going to give her a shot of antibiotics just to be safe.”He turned his attention back to me, administering the dose so smoothly I barely felt it.“I’ll check the wound again tomorrow to make sure it’s starting to heal.Gunshot wounds can be tricky.”

He pulled out another bottle from his bag of tricks; this one containing pills.“These are for pain.Take one every six hours, four hours if it gets really bad, but no more than that.The antibiotic shot I gave you is good for twenty-four hours.We’ll decide if you need another one when we see how well you heal.”

He snapped the bag shut and turned to Ace.“You bringing her over to the clubhouse?”

“Damn right.Safest place for her.”

They were talking over my head, deciding my future as if I weren’t sitting right there.“Excuse me, but do I get a say in this?”

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