Page 105 of Ruthless Creatures
“That’s right, I remember now. Are you a movie fan?”
His brows draw together. He seems lost in some bad memory, one I know he won’t divulge.
His voice low, he says, “I don’t sleep much. There’s always a movie on TV late at night.”
I get a glimpse of what his day-to-day life must be like. It isn’t pretty.
When I touch his cheek, he glances back at me, startled, pulled back from wherever he went.
“The next time you can’t sleep, call me, okay? We can watch a movie together.”
He searches my face with a look of longing in his eyes, like there’s nothing on earth that would make him happier than to watch the same film over the phone together when he’s away.
But again, he changes the subject, reaching over to pick up the bottle of peroxide.
“Cleaning first. Then stitching. Let’s get this over with so we can get back to the important stuff.”
He squeezes my butt when he says, “important stuff,” so there’s no misinterpreting his meaning. The man is the Energizer Bunny.
We’re both quiet as I gently clean the wound with a peroxide-soaked corner of the towel. There’s a small scrap of material from his shirt caught in the wound, crusted with blood. When I pull it free, he starts to bleed again, so I press down on the gash until the bleeding stops, then keep cleaning.
When I’m done with that, he hands me the needle.
Very seriously, he says, “Don’t be scared if I pass out when you first stick me.”
I’m horrified for a second, until I realize he’s joking.
Muttering under my breath, I get to work.
It’s not as gross as I anticipated. After the first few stitches, I’ve got the swing of it. I don’t take long to finish, and I’m pretty pleased with myself at the results.
“Do I just cut the end of the floss or what?”
“Tie a knot, then cut it.”
I follow his instructions with the knot, but have to get off his lap to go get the scissors in the junk drawer. Then I snip the end and stand back to admire my work.
Apparently, he doesn’t like me standing so far away. He pulls me back onto his lap, this time with both my legs hanging over one side so I’m curled against him, safe in the circle of his strong arms.
He kisses the top of my head. I sigh in contentment. Then I yawn.
His chuckle is a low rumble under my ear. “Am I boring you?”
I smile against his neck and tell him an outrageous lie. “So much. You’re the most boring man on earth. It’s as dull as watching paint dry when you’re around. Speaking of which, how long will you be around this time?”
Stroking a hand over my hair, he says, “At least through the New Year.”
Excited, I sit up and look at him. “Really? That long?”
Smoothing my hair away from my face with his hands, he smiles. “You’ll get sick of seeing me.”
I nod, as if this is a real concern. “Probably. A whole week with you…” I shudder. “Ugh.”
“I guess I’ll have to try to be more interesting.”
His eyes smoldering, he picks me up and carries me back to bed.
On the way there, I tell him about my visit from Chris. And even though I don’t want to because I’m afraid of what his reaction might be, I admit that Chris said he showed the sketch of his face to the FBI.
