Page 55 of Six
Gavin had no idea what that might look like so took Violetta’s word for it. “What about Devil and Nora and their families? And why doesn’t Nora have a nickname?”
“Have you ever met a ‘Nora’ that wasn’t badass?”
He didn’t know a lot of Noras, but now that Violetta mentioned it…he shook his head.
“Exactly. She didn’t need a nickname. But as to her family, she’s the only daughter and has three brothers. I’m sure Franklin gave you the file on her?”
He nodded. It didn’t contain the interesting details about who she was as a person—her personality, her character—but it did include a summary of her family, one of the wealthiest importer/exporter families in the Middle East.
“And as for Devil,” Violetta continued, “she has one brother. Her family and mine are not dissimilar in that both her parents are involved in running the family empire, but that’s about where the similarities end. Her family is, well, we would call them cold. They look out for one another, but mostly out of duty. And emotions are weakness and to be avoided at all times. I’m glad she has me, Cyn, and Nora to help breathe a little humanity into her life.”
He didn’t know Devil—or any of them—well, but it wasn’t hard to see what Violetta referred to. In the few hours he’d spent with Devil, she’d been cool, assessing, and not one to put her opinions or thoughts out for public consumption without careful consideration.
“I know she mostly engages in research rather than practicing medicine. Is she going to be able to handle this?” As he asked the question, he lifted the sweatshirt up to see if the wound was still bleeding. The flow had slowed significantly, especially since he’d been sitting in the car and not moving or stressing it, but it was still oozing. Violetta glared at him, and he considered—too late—that he shouldn’t have mentioned his wound again.
“Nora will be the one to clean and examine it. I know she’s a vet, but her bedside manner is a lot better than Devil’s. We only rely on Devil when it’s a last resort. So long as the knife didn’t go through any tendons or damage anything other than skin and muscle, Nora should be able to handle it.”
He glanced at his leg one more time before pressing the sweatshirt back down. He was 99 percent sure there wasn’t any significant damage. It hurt like hell, especially after their mile-long trek through the woods, but if tendons or cartilage had been involved, they wouldn’t even have made that mile.
“What’s your favorite color?” he asked. According to the map, they were fifteen minutes from her house. Why not pass the time with idle chitchat? They might need to strategize about what they were going to do next in terms of helping Heather file the lawsuit, but his mind wasn’t quite up to that at the moment.
She flashed him a look, then returned her attention to the road. “I like red, but it doesn’t look great on me, not unless it’s a deep red. If not that, then anything in the yellow palette.”
“Yellow?” That wasn’t a color people usually mentioned when talking about favorites.
“I like bright yellows for home accents, deep yellows for clothing, and sunny yellows for plants. It’s a cheery color.”
Now that he thought about it, most of the flowers in her front yard were yellow. Not all, but most.
“What about you?” she asked as she took the exit for Cos Cob.
“Blue. I know it’s kind of a generic color, but like your opinion of yellow, I feel that way about blue. There’s blue for every mood.”
She nodded. “What about favorite food?”
“Anything I don’t cook. You?”
She chuckled. “Anything Sylvia makes for me.”
“Sylvia?”
“Javier’s mom, the woman who cooks for me.”
They played twenty questions for the remaining ten minutes of the ride. In that time, he learned she preferred Italian red wines to French (not a surprise), fiction over nonfiction, summer over winter, and sunrise over sunset. Although that last one had pretty much been a tie.
When they pulled into her drive, Nora, Devil, Cyn, and Joe were all waiting for them. Violetta didn’t bother pulling into her garage and instead came to a stop less than five feet from the steps leading up to her front porch. By the time he got his door open and one leg out, she was standing beside him, holding out a hand to help.
He looked at her, then to the four people watching them. Joe had his arms crossed and a grin tugging at his lips. Cyn’s eyebrows were raised while Devil stood with her hands on her hips. Nora was the only one who appeared to be focusing on him and his injury rather than watching Violetta fuss over him.
“Come,” Nora said, directing them inside. “We’ve set everything up in the downstairs bathroom.”
Gavin followed Nora with Violetta at his side. He didn’t really need the help, but having her arm wrapped around his waist wasn’t an experience he was going to deny himself.
“We need to get you out of your jeans,” Nora said, then held up a hand to stop the commentary forming on his lips. “No jokes, not right now. Six is on edge enough, and we all need to do as she says if we don’t want to have to sleep with one eye open tonight.”
“I’m not on edge,” Violetta snapped. Wisely, he and Nora remained silent as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. He didn’t bother to smother the hiss of breath that escaped his lungs when the denim slid over the cut. And despite his belief that the injury wasn’t too serious, he was grateful for the chair Nora had set up as he sank onto it. Kneeling before him, Violetta removed his boots, then tugged his jeans the rest of the way off, leaving him in his boxer briefs and shirt.
Violetta stood back as Nora inspected the wound. Blood had dried in streaks down his leg and was smeared all over his thigh. Gently, Nora examined the cut, no doubt to gauge its depth, then spoke. “I need to clean it up before I can tell how deep it is or if it needs stitches.”
