Page 44 of Bones
“I shoulda killed ’em,” he said in a low, harsh voice.
“Lana?” Mac asked.
“With Griz by the gate.” Trey met his gaze.
Mac nodded. “I’ll deal with it.”
“Lana?” I asked as Mac slammed the door on his way out.
Trey’s eyes studied my battered face, but he didn’t meet my eyes. “She volunteered for guard duty.”
I read between the lines, my stomach dropping.
“I’m sorry,” Trey said, his voice rough. “She said she wanted to make things right. I thought I could trust her.”
Clearly, you've never lost a brother,I wanted to say, but I didn’t.
“What’ll happen to her?” I asked, remembering what Sam had said about their code.
“If she’s lucky, exile.”
I didn’t care what happened to Lana, but I couldn’t help the dredge of memories his words brought up. Lucky? Exile was far from merciful. I started shuffling toward my supplies, trying to ignore the way the room tilted.
"The fuck are you doing?" Trey demanded. He stepped forward but then paused again.
“Gonna stitch up my head,” I muttered.
I made it one more step before he blocked the way, but he didn’t touch me.
“Sit your ass down,” he said, pointing at the chair.
“I can?—”
“Please, Bones.” His voice cracked with emotion. “Please let me do it.”
The sharp pain in his voice killed any fight I had left.
“Fine.” I got myself up on the chair.
He went to the sink, scrubbing his hands, before gathering up the supplies. When he moved back beside me, he lifted a clean wet rag. “You ready?” he asked.
I nodded, dropping the bloodied rag I held to my head and he began to dab the blood off. I had a brief moment of deja vu, remembering him doing this exact same thing in the light of the rover headlight.
“I’m sorry,” he said again in that rough voice. “I shoulda been here.”
I stared at the wall and didn’t answer. I didn’t know why he cared so much. I wasn’t his responsibility. When he finished cleaning the blood, he threaded the needle with steady hands. Against my better judgment, I flicked my gaze up to his face just as he glanced at me. I wasn’t sure what shone in those brown eyes, but it made me feel wobbly inside. I looked away, clenching my fists hard enough for my nails to bite into my palms.
Trey rested one hand on the side of my head, holding me still as he started to stitch me up. It hurt but I welcomed it. Anything to chase away that stupid feeling in my gut. I counted the stitches he made out of habit.
After he tied the final stitch off, he scrubbed off his hands and then climbed up the ladder. I slid off the chair, watching as he threw my mattress and blanket down from the loft.
“What are you doing?”
“You shouldn’t climb up and down the ladder when you’re hurt,” he said, jumping down and dragging the mattress into the empty corner.
I looked up at the loft, my one piece of safety, and frowned. Trey caught my expression.
“I volunteered for guard duty.” He gave me a crooked grin as he climbed the ladder again. “If anybody comes through that door and even looks at you funny, I’ll shoot ’em.”
