Page 31 of Axe-ing for Trouble
Lumbersnack:
As long as you’re resting…
Trouble:
Resting is boring. I just watched a YouTube video about how to build a birdhouse. Do you have a circular saw?
Lumbersnack:
No power tools. You only have one good arm.
Trouble:
Ripley says you’re no fun.
Lumbersnack:
Ripley’s been saying that for years. I’m used to it.
Chapter9
Mila
Isqueezed my eyes closed, teeth gritted against the pain. Willa had come over to check my healing and was now measuring the range of motion in my shoulder.
She’d busted in here not long after Jude had left for work, looking all sweet and concerned. It was all an act. She was an evil, evil woman who was putting me through actual torture.
It was luck that I was here when she pulled up. I’d lingered to drink another cup of delicious coffee while putting together a plan for the day. If I’d pushed myself out the door immediately like I’d intended, there was no way she wouldn’t have called Jude.
I’d found a mountain bike in the garage while inspecting the property yesterday and figured I’d ride to the state park to retrace my steps, praying I’d find my phone. I’d found a pair of gloves that fit me, as well as a headlamp and extra batteries in the oddly organized junk drawer in Jude’s kitchen.
So far, I’d decided that every morning, after Jude left, I’d search for a few hours. And I wouldn’t stop until I found the damn thing.
Maybe I didn’t know how I’d ride a mountain bike with one arm, but that was a small detail. I wouldn’t let it stop me.
But the good doctor had shown up and fucked up all my plans.
I winced as she pushed my arm higher. Her hands were deceptively strong, pushing and kneading while she felt around my tendons.
“I’ve kept the sling on,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Good.” She lowered my arm gently. “It’s time to start moving it. Getting the blood flowing is important.”
With a step back, she dug around in her large bag. When she straightened, she held up a small tube.
“I’ll roll BioFreeze into some of the accessory muscles and massage it in. That’ll get the blood around the injury moving and help with the swelling.”
As she began, the menthol smell hit my nostrils and made my eyes water.
“So,” she said, digging into my neck with those skilled hands. “Do you mind telling me how on earth you ended up working undercover at a biker bar and trying to take down a drug trafficking operation on your own?”
I closed my eyes, relishing the pain that came with the way she worked my muscles. “When you say it like that, it sounds insane.”
“Nah, when I say it like that, it sounds brave but reckless.” She pushed her fingertips into my bicep.
I closed my eyes, willing, unsuccessfully, my twitching muscles to relax. Despite the debilitating pain, I’d remained in denial about just how badly I’d been hurt. This, though, was proving I had a long way to go until I was healed.
“My brother,” I said, wincing as she moved to a new spot. “When he was attacked, something inside me broke. I became fixated on bringing his attacker to justice. In the process of trying to identify that person, I discovered the breadth of what was going on. I have the skills to track down information, gather data, and build a case, so why wouldn’t I put them to use? It’s what I’ve done since I was a second grader investigating missing Halloween candy.”
