Page 51 of Klutch's Kryptonite

“Easy!” Pee Wee growls.

“Sorry, Veep. Gotta see how deep it is.”

He takes a penlight from his pocket and shines it in her eyes. “Follow the light,” he instructs.

“How bad is it?” Pee Wee asks, moving closer.

He moves the light left then right, watching Kenny’s eyes. After a moment, he frowns. “She’s got a concussion.”

“No shit,” Kenny mutters.

“She’ll be fine. Just keep an eye on her for the next seventy-two hours.” Bravo tucks the light back into his pocket and turns to me. His eyes catalog my injuries. “And you?”

“I’m fine,” I lie.

His mouth quirks in what might be amusement. “Sure you are.” He steps closer, gently tilting my chin to examine my split lip. “This needs some glue.”

“Is that necessary?”

“I can put a stitch in if you’d rather,” he arches a brow.

Yeah, no. I don’t think so.

I shake my head. I hate needles. “Glue is fine.”

Bravo works quickly, cleaning the gash first. When he applies the medical adhesive, it burns like fire.

“Shit!” I hiss, recoiling.

“Sorry,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes says he’s not really. “But it’s better than stitches. Will heal faster too.”

I nod, trying not to cry. It’s not the pain— I’ve had worse. It’s everything else. My dad is dead. I was nearly raped. And Klutch... I’ve never seen him like that before. Even when he’s in that cage fighting. He attacked them both, and there’s not a doubt in my mind he wanted to do worse— that he would have done worse if I hadn’t stopped him. And now… he’s god knows where doing god knows what to those men because of me.

“Where’s Klutch?” I ask, finally voicing the question that’s been burning in my mind. “Is he... is he going to kill Frankie?”

Pee Wee and Bravo exchange a look that sends chills down my spine.

“No darlin’,” he says, unable to meet my eyes. He’s lying. “Don’t you worry ‘bout that.”

“But—”

“Club business isn’t for you to worry about, Sweetheart,” Bravo says just as cool as if he were telling me the weather. “Now,” he continues, lifting the edge of my torn shirt. “I need to check your ribs.”

He pushes on the purple coloring already formed on my side.

“Ow!” I squeeze my eyes shut. Son-of-a… That freaking hurts.

“The good news is that nothing is broken,” he pronounces after a thorough examination. “They are badly bruised though. You’re gonna be sore as hell for a while.”

I nod, tears welling in my eyes. That I believe.

“Do you want something for the pain?” Bravo asks, his voice softening as he notices my tears.

I shake my head. “I’m okay.”

It’s a lie, and we all know it, but he doesn’t call me on it.

“Alright. Rest up. Don’t move around too much.” He turns to Pee Wee. “I need to talk to you.”

---