Page 7 of The Same Backward as Forward
I took a ragged breath and returned to Jackson’s question.What do I need?
“Gauze, cloths, cool water. Any and all pain medication you have.” I wracked my brain.What else?“If we were in a hospital, I’d start an IV—fluids first, then antibiotics.”
Jackson left the shack without a word, and just like that, I was alone with an unconscious Toby Hawthorne.
H-A-N-N-A-H.I could hear him spelling out my name in my memory.If you’re aHannawithout thehon the end, I don’t want to know.
It had been easier when I wasn’t thinking of the body on the floor as anything other than a patient, a collection of wounds, because the second I started thinking of him as someone I’d met, the second I thought about the bar, I flashed back to the way Kaylie had smiled that night.
Dance with me, you beautiful bitch.
I hadn’t. I hadn’t danced with her. I hadn’t walked her all the way home. I hadn’t made sure she didn’t go back out.Your loss, you glorious thing, you.
The door to the shack slammed open, and Jackson dropped a beat-up suitcase onto the floor.
“What’s this?” I asked, the words getting caught in my throat.
“I like to be prepared.” Jackson’s voice still sounded hoarse, and it occurred to me to wonder exactly how close to the fire on Hawthorne Island he’d gotten.
Smoke inhalation?It wasn’t like I had oxygen—for either of them.
Focus on what youcando, I thought. With shaking hands, I unzipped the suitcase Jackson had dumped on the floor. Inside, there was a mess of medical supplies. I spotted the arthritis cream I’d bought him, but that was just the tip of the totally chaotic and disorganized iceberg. In any other circumstance, the fact that therecluse had so many medical supplies would have made him look unhinged and paranoid, but even a broken clock was right twice a day.
I started sorting through the mess, pulling the supplies I needed.Gauze pads—three sizes, sterile. Bandages. Over-the-counter pain meds—acetaminophen and ibuprofen. Gauze rolls. Iodine wipes, alcohol wipes…
“Saline.” That surprised me enough that I said it out loud. Why would a recluse have a bag of saline—more than one, actually, with lines attached? I looked up at Jackson. “If I dig around in here, am I going to find a catheter and needle?”
“Like I said.” Jackson grunted. “I like to be prepared.”
He lived in a shack that probably could have qualified as abunker. Was I really all that surprised? “Do you know what to do with any of it?” I queried.
Jackson threw his hands up in the air. “Would I have dragged you out here if I did?”
The boy on the floor chose that moment to suck in a frantic breath—and moan.
“Have you given him anything for the pain?” I asked Jackson.
“I was too damn busy saving his life.”
I grabbed a bottle of pills and considered propping my patient up, but given the burns, I didn’t want to risk lifting his upper body. Instead, I cupped a hand behind his head, gently pulling it toward me.
“I’m going to open your mouth now,” I told Toby Hawthorne. I had no idea if he could hear me, no idea if Iwantedhim to be able to hear me. “I’m going to put pills in, one at a time.” I looked to Jackson. “Get me some water.” Unless and until I got some morphine, alternating large doses of the two over-the-counter medicines was my best bet.
I placed the first pill on Toby’s tongue. His breath was warm against my hand. I brought water to his lips, then did my best to help him drink. I closed his mouth, willing him to swallow.
And that was when he opened his eyes, so dark a green I could almost imagine them black. Those eyes locked on to mine. He should have been moaning, writhing, screaming, but he was silent. He swallowed the pill.
As I placed the next one in his mouth, all I could think was that his face wasn’t burned at all.
Chapter 6
Toby Hawthorne passed out again before I dressed his burns, before I sheared a patch of hair on the back of his head to his scalp and bandaged his wound, before I got the IV going.
We’re going to need more supplies.I didn’t say that to Jackson, in large part because I told myself that there was nowe. I’d done what I could. I’d doneno harm. And that was more than I could say for the patient I’d treated.
Kerosene.
I stood and walked slowly out of the shack. It was only once I’d opened the door that Jackson spoke behind me. “You coming back?”
