Page 48 of Collin: Episodes 7-9
“And my lungs. Worse when I breathe in.”
“We’re going to get your coat off you, see if that helps. And then we’re going to have to transport you.”
The next ten minutes were calm and tense but organized. He couldn’t see anything, but Mr. Moreau’s beating heart under his ear kept time, and Mr. Reevesworth’s authoritative voice floated to him now and again.
His master came over just as they were getting ready to help Collin to his feet. “I’ve called in private security. They’ll meet us at the hospital.”
“Good. Any progress on the attacker?” Mr. Moreau asked.
“Damian’s running her name and contacting our PIs. We should know more soon.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Don’t be, Collin.” Mr. Reevesworth’s hand touched Collin’s bare arm.
“You need to be seen, too, sir,” Adam said.
“Why?” Mr. Reevesworth sounded truly at a loss.
“Your hand is red, sir.”
Collin flinched. “Sir?”
“It’s nothing, Collin.”
“You should still get it looked at,” Adam said.
“I’ll go with Collin. They can look at me after they’ve seen to him.”
Two hours later, Collin’s eyes were open. His vision was slightly blurry, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the eye drops they were dosing him with or from damage.
Mr. Moreau had stepped out to take a call, but Mr. Reevesworth was sitting beside him, holding Collin with his left hand. His right hand was wrapped in gauze. While Collin had caught almost all of the deluge, Mr. Reevesworth’s hand had soaked up a lot of the oil when he had reached out to pull Collin back. Mr. Moreau had been wearing his winter gloves and then used his shirt to wipe Collin off, minimizing how much he’d interacted with the liquid directly.
Fortunately, for Mr. Moreau and Collin, neither of them had a latent allergy to the essential oils that had made up the criminal baptism. Mr. Reevesworth, however, was evidently allergic to tea tree oil. His skin had broken out in an angry rash around his thumb and first finger and up to his wrist and across his lower palm.
Collin looked at the gauze. “I’m sorry.”
Mr. Reevesworth sighed. “I’m the one who should be sorry. We shouldn’t have walked.”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference. She was waiting at the door, not on the sidewalk.”
Mr. Reevesworth slumped in his chair. “You’re right.”
Collin smiled and reached out, brushing Mr. Reevesworth’s hair back from his temple with his fingertips. “You couldn’t have stopped this, sir.”
“I could have left you at home.”
“And then you’d be entirely covered in that rash that’s on your hand.”
“But you got hurt.”
Collin shook his head and smiled at his master. “You heard what they said. My lungs are going to be fine. I didn’t swallow any, and only a little got in my nose and my eyes. I’ll be out of here by morning. The burning in my chest is going away already.”
Mr. Reevesworth’s shoulders slumped even more. “She was aiming for me.”
Collin pushed the blanket off the back of the bed and put his feet on the floor. He moved smoothly into straddling Mr. Reevesworth’s lap, pulling the blanket over both of them like a cloak. This felt right. This was the nicest thing to happen since they had left the restaurant. He stroked his master’s arm, up the arch of the man’s neck, and into his scalp, then pressed their foreheads together.
“I’m glad I protected you, master.”
