Page 40 of His Favorite Color is Blood
Grim smirked and rose from his chair. “You need to be very gentle with him.”
Frank lowered the bed for Misha, and soon enough, Misha lay down, watching his own stump with a frown. His poor body had gone through so much suffering already, but yet again, it would have to be cut open. His breath quickened at the sight of the scalpel glinting in the cool light, and he clenched his eyes shut, fantasizing that he was somewhere else, somewhere safe.
“Are you just as afraid of needles?” asked Frank. “I’d like to use local anesthesia.”
Misha squeezed his fists. “I don’t like needles, but I don’t like pain either. I’d rather not feel the cutting.”
Grim sat on the bed behind Misha and pulled him back against his wide, steady chest. Half of Misha’s fear subsided, as if swept away by magic. Misha needed to have the chip out, but with nausea rising in his chest, he was grateful for all the support he could get. The needle was sharp and went in easily as Misha held his breath. It was only when Frank started injecting the stump that the pain became stronger.
“Have you two known each other long?” asked Frank. Misha knew it was meant as a distraction, but he was grateful nevertheless.
“Three weeks maybe. It’s just been … a rough time.” Misha’s muscle in the stump tensed at both the touch and the needle sinking in again, but if Grim trusted the doctor, Misha would as well, even though having a stranger touch him like this made another layer of fear cling to his heart.
Frank massaged the stump as numbness spread through Misha’s flesh, and Misha wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not. With the stump numb, it felt almost as if it was ceasing to exist, as if the leg he could still feel down there was completely gone.
“I’d rather not look, if that’s okay,” Misha said and curled his shoulders in front of Grim. But the image still wouldn’t go away. Zero, cutting into him without mercy and feeding on his screams.
Grim tightened his hold around Misha, tucking Misha’s head underneath his chin. “It’ll be all right,” he whispered. “I’m looking on, so nothing will happen to you,” he promised as Misha shuddered at the ghost of a touch at his limb.
“Thank you.” Misha took a deep breath, melting into the warmth of Grim’s embrace. For once, there was someone looking out for him.
He tried to numb his brain as his stump was opened. It didn’t hurt, but he could sense the pressure, and his body was becoming rigid with the anticipation of shock and pain. Something clanged against metal, and Frank said, “It’s out.”
The relief was so immense, as if he just got a tumor cut out. He leaned his head back against Grim, and his muscles went lax. The doctor seemed to be casual about Grim’s sexuality, so Misha wasn’t bothered to hide their closeness. He didn’t open his eyes though until the gash in his leg was repaired with stitches and bandaged.
“You know the drill, Grim,” said Frank, pouring clean water over the bloodied piece of plastic before tucking it into a small pouch. “I’ll give him a prescription for antibiotics in your name, just in case.”
Grim nodded and helped Misha into the wheelchair, extra careful with the bandaged stump. It was almost as if he were afraid to touch it for once.
Misha thanked the doctor again, and he could hardly believe how lucky he was to have crashed into Grim’s life. Who else would ever have the patience with him? Who would have fought three armed men to keep him safe? Any other man would just leave him be and save himself the hassle, but not Grim.
They exchanged a few pleasantries, but Grim was adamant about not staying in town even for the night. Frank said his goodbyes with a promise to dispose of the chip, and they were off, driving farther away from the horrors of Misha’s existence. Wherever it was they were going, as long as it was with Grim, he’d feel safe.
In the truck, Misha slept off the insomnia of the previous night. With the chip gone, his body deflated, and Grim’s presence was reassuring enough for him to doze off as soon as Grim tucked him in with the seatbelt. But when Grim’s voice penetrated his dreams, it was like being taken from one pair of warm arms into ones that were even stronger.
“Birdie, we’re here.”
Misha blinked a few times and looked up into Grim’s eyes. “Oh … oh!” He yawned, happy to see greenery again. “Where are we? What time is it?”
Grim smirked and brushed his fingers over Misha’s forehead. “You said you want to see my home,” he said, slipping out of the cab.
Excitement exploded in Misha’s chest at the thought of seeing where Grim spent his downtime, and he pushed the door open. “But there’s no one here, right?”
Grim walked up to Misha and pulled him out of the truck, as steady as ever. “No. The nearest neighbors live in town. It is just me here ... at least when I stay over,” he said, turning around with Misha in his arms.
Between the trees stood a small house with grey walls and thick steel bars in the windows and in front of the door. The sun shone between the leaves, painting the plaster and roof with bright light that only added to the serene picture.
Grim nudged Misha with his chin. “What do you think?” he asked with an eagerness to his voice.
Misha wrapped his arms around Grim’s neck and his legs around Grim’s waist. “Looks … safe.” He snorted and looked around the tall trees to the dark rubble where a bigger house must have stood a few hundred yards away.
“It’s very safe. It has a panic room, and oxygen tanks inside, in case someone wanted to burn me down,” said Grim, carrying Misha toward the house. He reached into his pocket, for a moment holding Misha up with one arm, and pulled out a set of keys.
Misha hugged him tighter, loving the reassuring amount of strength Grim had. “Has anyone ever tracked you down here?” He could swear Grim actually squeezed his ass, but he didn’t mind.
“No way. People don’t know I live here. And I’m here too rarely to be suspicious. Besides, there’s no neighbors since the other house burned down,” he said, unlocking the bars and then the heavy door itself.
“Was it arson?” Misha gave Grim a kiss on the ear, overwhelmed by how quickly his feelings for Grim were developing. Was it the intensity of what they did together? Or was it the fact that he was the first man Misha chose?
