Page 5 of Phantom
“Ah, fuck.”
I whipped back around to see that Colin was attempting to shake his jacket off but was struggling. “Want some help?”
Colin sighed. “Please.”
I walked over, tucked my hands under the shoulders of his jacket, and slowly rolled it down. His arm and back muscles were firm under my hands, and I was curious about what lay beneath his shirt, but the way he grunted while I worked let me know that his torso was pretty damaged, too.
“So…” I started, finally getting his jacket off and tossing it onto the desk. “How’s Caid?” There was a quick flash of shock before it disappeared behind another twisted expression of pain when Colin tucked a finger into his mouth to remove his right glove. I grabbed his hand and pulled it down. “I’ll do this. You answer my question.”
“He’s overseas.” Colin kept his eyes trained on our hands as I worked the glove off. “His illness got worse, but there’s an experimental surgery that could save his life.”
“Wow. How long has he been gone?”
Colin didn’t answer right away. I couldn’t read his hesitation, but he eventually continued. “About two months.”
“You must miss him.” I freed the glove and set it on top of Colin’s jacket before turning to the left. This hand was wrapped in bandages that seemed to go even further up his arm, indicating it was in worse shape than the other. I was slower and more careful, but it didn’t stop Colin from clenching his jaw. “Sorry. Does it hurt?”
“I’m okay.” His left hand balled into a fist, suggesting otherwise. “And yes, I do miss him. We haven’t talked since he left.”
“Why?” Again, Colin’s answer didn’t come right out. It was almost like he was choosing what to say and what not to tell me. It was borderline insulting. I didn’t expect him to open up entirely after so many years apart, but I assumed that he came to me because he trusted me. “You know, before, you said it had been ten years since we last saw each other,” I changed the subject.
“I rounded,” he replied instantly, and I looked up to meet his gaze, which was already fixated on me. “It’s been fourteen. Guess I’m trying to act like it hasn’t been so long.”
“It’s easier for someone who hasn’t been around, I suppose,” I said. The glove reached a spot where my only choice was to yank it the rest of the way. “I’m sorry. This may hurt.”
“It’s fine.”
I snatched the glove quickly a la ripping the bandaid, and I felt the bandage pull with it, no doubt dragging some of Colin’s skin along. The dried blood had glued his hand and glove together, which was why pulling them apart was so painful. Why he even had a glove on, to begin with, was anyone’s guess.
His hand instantly started to bleed. I wasn’t prepared and raced from the room for the linen closet. The rattle of Lockjaw’s chain collar let me know that he’d jumped up in response to my rush. He padded down the hallway, but I grabbed the first towel my hand found in the linen closet next to the bathroom, then jumped over Lockjaw to get back into the room. Colin was cradling his hand in his jacket to prevent the blood from getting on the floor. I wrapped his hand in the towel and then set his jacket aside once again. If I tossed it in the washer before I went to bed, I could hopefully get the blood out.
“Sorry. I should have warned you about that,” Colin said.
“It’s fine. The doctor should be here any second.” I reached for the base of his shirt. “I’ll help with this, too.”
Colin backed away from me. “I can do it.”
I scoffed. “No, you can’t. You couldn’t even get your gloves off. Let me help.”
“It’s fine, Tess.”
“Will you stop being so damn stubborn?” I started to lift the shirt, and Colin jerked away from me so hard that he bumped into the desk and elicited a growl from Lockjaw, who was now standing in the doorway.
“I said, I got it!” Colin barked.
I held up my hands in defeat. “Fine.”
The front door cracked, and Lockjaw raced out to investigate. He did not bark, and a few seconds later, Dr. Marteau rounded the corner into the room.
“Hey, Val.” He looked at Colin. “Oh. Hello.” Colin didn’t respond. Dr. Marteau, an older gentleman with long brown hair and an outdated and greying soul patch, raised his eyebrows at me. “This is the case?”
“Yeah. He’s an old friend. Can you help?” I asked.
Dr. Marteau shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do.” He looked at Colin. “It’s probably best if you lose the shirt. Pants, too, so I can get a thorough look.”
Colin looked at him first, then at me. “Can you step out?”
“Yeah,” I said.
