Page 9 of Bones
When I didn’t answer, Trey’s eyes flicked to mine again. “What happened here?” he repeated.
“The mercs,” I muttered.
“This is a deep gash, and it bled a lot.” Trey gently wiped the rag down the side of my face where I could feel stiff dried blood coating my skin. “You’re fuckin’ covered in blood. They didn’t even try to patch you up?”
I fought the urge to snap something about how most people didn’t give a shit.
“Did they hit you with something?” Griz pressed.
“Obviously,” I muttered.
Griz raised an eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
“The fuck were they gonna do if you bled to death?” Trey asked, anger coating his voice again.
“Well I didn’t,” I said, hoping they got the message that I did not want to talk about this.
“How long were you in that safe?” Griz asked.
“I dunno.”
“Fuckin’ mercs,” Trey muttered.
Well, we could agree on that at least.
“Alright. Let me see your hands.” Trey tucked the bottle under his arm and held his hands out, palms up.
I hesitated before putting my hand in his. He gripped my hands, tilting them to catch the light of the headlight and leaning close to examine my shredded palms.
“Shit,” he murmured. “You did a number on these. You better take another drink ’cause I’m gonna have to clean these cuts out.”
He glanced back up at my face. In the growing dark, I could ignore the other bodies moving just out of sight. Even Griz seemed to fade away from where he stood at my shoulder. Trey’s hands tightened on mine as his eyes shone with something like regret.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and I knew he wasn’t talking about the cuts on my palms. “We had no idea the weapon was a person. We never would’ve done it if we’d known.”
I jerked my hands away, feeling cold.
“I can clean these myself,” I snapped, averting my gaze.
For the first time, he didn’t argue. He just handed me the bottle of alcohol. I gulped down another mouthful and then gritted my teeth and poured the alcohol over the slices, relishing the burning pain. As I set the bottle down, my eyes smarting, Trey moved in again, wrapping my hand in a clean bandage before I could protest. Then he paused for a moment, pushing my sleeve up to look at the welts on my wrists.
“Gods, those ties were tight,” he muttered, continuing the bandage up my wrist. As he pushed my sleeve up further to tie it off, dark bruises came into view, and that muscle in his jaw started flexing again.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Griz examined the bruises on my arm too.
“No.”
The two of them exchanged a look, but Trey just grabbed the bottle and held his hand out. “I’ll do your other hand.”
I gave him my other hand, swearing through my teeth as he poured the alcohol over the exposed wounds.
By the time he finished, the camp had been set up. Jax had cooked something in a small fire and the smell made my mouth water. Trey cleaned up the supplies and Griz brought me over to the fire, gripping my arm a little more gently. He gestured for me to sit and then took a seat on my left as I glanced around. Across the fire from me sat the woman from before. I met her gaze to find her still glaring at me with hatred. I dropped my eyes, feeling my heart rate pick up. Did I know her? Had I met her before? I wracked my brain but came up empty.
Griz handed me a tin plate with some steaming meat and potatoes on it. I fumbled to grip it with my bandaged hands, and then nearly dropped the whole thing when the woman across the fire erupted.
“So that’s it?” she snarled, leaping to her feet and stabbing a finger in my direction. “We’re just gonna stitch her up and feed her like nothing happened?”
“Sit down, Lana,” Griz snapped.
