Page 45 of Bones
I didn’t thank him, but that tight knot in my chest eased a little.
“What’re these for?”
I looked up to see him holding the rusted scissors I'd stashed under the mattress. A lot of help they'd been up in the loft.
I shrugged, feeling dumb. “Just in case.”
“Here.”
He clambered down the ladder and then bent and fiddled with his boot. When he stood he held out a small holstered knife.
“Take this. It’s small, but it’s real sharp. It should fit in your boot. Sorry, I shoulda thought to make sure you had somethin’ for protection.”
I took it, surprised he trusted me with a weapon, small or not. I flicked it open, and I could practically hear Wolf's growl of approval. It was small but sturdy. As I studied it, I noticed my hand. Every single one of my fingernails had dark red blood under them. I remembered raking my nails down Pike's face and fought a sudden wave of nausea.
“Does anything else hurt besides your head?” Trey asked as he threw my blankets back over the mattress.
My whole body ached, but I knew how to ignore it. I tried to push away the flashes of memory that kept trying to invade my head and shoved the knife in my pocket.
"No," I lied, hoping he'd stop fussing. I headed to the sink, turned the water on, and tried to scrub the blood out from under my nails.
“You want to lay down and rest for a bit?”
“No,” I repeated. I couldn’t get all the blood out from under my nails. I lathered my hands again, hating how they shook.
Trey approached and my entire body tensed.
“What are you doing?” he asked, and gods, I was not going to fucking cry.
“Trying to get the blood off,” I said through my teeth.
“Bones, your hands are clean.”
“It’s under my nails,” I snapped.
He peered back down at my hands, realization dawning on his face. “I see. Here, hold on.” He rummaged through the drawers until he found a small scalpel. He held his hand out, palm up. “Can I see your hand?”
My skin crawled at the thought of being touched, but even I had to admit my hands shook too hard for me to try and scrape the blood out myself. Reluctantly I placed my hand in his, and he curled his warm fingers around it, holding mine still. I watched as he scraped the blood out from under my nails, rinsing the scalpel in the sink as he went. I tried to breathe evenly, fighting back the tears that ached in my throat at the strange overwhelming intimacy of the act. He let go as soon as he finished and I retreated. His eyes followed me, but he just disinfected the scalpel for me and hung it up to dry.
“How about you sit for a minute?” he said as he dried his hands.
“No.”
He frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but at that moment the door opened and Griz came striding in. He stopped in his tracks and swore when his eyes landed on my face.
“Lana?” Trey asked.
“Exile,” Griz answered. “All three of ’em.”
I leaned against the exam table and focused on breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. Griz opened and clenched his fists at his side as he studied me.
“I should’ve killed him,” Trey repeated in a low voice.
“Trust me, he wasn’t in great shape,” Griz said with a grim smile.
The door opened again, and a woman stepped in, holding her bloodied arm against her chest. She stopped at the sight of me, her eyes darting between me and Griz and Trey.
“Is…is this a bad time?” she asked.
