Page 18 of London Has Fallen
“Suit yourself then asshole, I hope you die in that seat.” With no other choice but to risk my pride I stop her from fleeing out the open door for a second time.
“Can you stitch me up?” Asking her for help hurts more than the beating and Costa slicing me open. She smiles wide and bats her lashes at me as she slams the door closed.
“Now, why didn’t you just say that? Of course, I would be more than happy to drag a needle through your skin and stitch you up, after all, I couldn’t have our new headmaster dying before the semester even begins.” Dread washes over me, this bitch is fucking nuts and I have just asked her to help patch up my wounds. I’m starting to regret asking her when she skips–yes, she fucking skips across my office and hums the tune to “London Bridge Is Falling Down”.
London
After adding another log to the fire and snagging the lamp from the corner of his desk, I helped the bastard lay flat on the bear skin rug in front of the fireplace. I set the lamp up beside him before climbing to my feet and dashing down the hall to the nurses office where I gather everything I’ll need to stitch him and patch him up. When I enter his office again I freeze at the sight of him sitting up shirtless, frowning as I take in the wounds on his chest. He’s covered in blood but one of them is so deep it’s clear whoever did that wanted to inflict as much pain as possible. It’s sloppy fucking work if you ask me and a disgrace to the art of torturing a man!
At the sound of my approach he lifts tired pain-filled eyes to me and lays flat on his back. He tries to hide the agony he is in behind a mask but I see it in his eyes. He’s pale and sweating, bruises mar his body and he’s got a good one beginning to sprout along his jaw. He watches me intently as I set the supplies down beside him before rushing out again to grab a bucket and some water so I can clean his wounds, when I return his eyes are closed and he appears to be sleeping but I know better.
There is no way he would trust me enough to pass out.
I’m proven right when I kneel down beside him and his eyes snap open. I ignore him as I set about my task of cleaning the cuts. He grunts and hisses but doesn’t protest. I cover his wounds in Iodine before I thread the needle, I look down at him to find his gaze already on me.
“This changes nothing,” he says.
Rolling my eyes I return to my task finally getting the thread through the needle as I answer, “Of course, dear. Tomorrow we can go back to planning to kill each other and then all will be right in the world.” The frustrated look on his face makes me laugh. The only reason I am helping this fucker instead of celebrating his death is because I want to know about the trials, well that and the fact if anyone is going to be killing him, it will be me!
“Do you know what you’re doing?” The way he is eyeing the needle as I pour the Iodine over it has me smiling.
“Don’t look so shocked, I hear where you come from, women know nothing aside from domestic duties. Lucky for you I’m not one of those women.”
“You kill me, the rules of sanctum are enacted and you will forfeit the trials and die.” I pause and give him my full attention.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean, pretty boy?” He takes on a serious edge as he stares up at me.
“You really have no fucking clue what is about to happen, do you?” Rather than answer his question I set about doing the first stitch, he grunts but there is nothing I can do about it, no morphine or any type of drugs like that are kept on school grounds. When I reach the fourth stitch he finally gives up gnawing on his bottom lip and cries out, a warmth washes over me at the sound. “Can you at least try to act like you’re not enjoying this?” he breathes out in pain, his body is beginning to tremble and if he isn’t careful he’ll probably go into shock and begin seizing.
“Now, why on earth would I do such a thing like that?” I say in my best southern drawl.
“You seriously are fucking crazy!” I make sure to dig the needle in a tiny–fine, a lot deeper relishing in the scream that rips from him. “Fuck!”
“Stop being a baby, it’s not that bad,” I admonish. He opens his mouth to shout at me but then his eyes roll back into his head and he passes the fuck out. Now, I do debate waiting till he wakes up again to finish the job just so he can feel everything I am doing to him but then, my thirst for knowledge of the trials has me rushing through the stitches and trying to finish the job before he wakes. I’m just tying off the last stitch when he finally begins to stir, I wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand before grabbing the gauze and tape to cover the large cut, I only needed to stitch one of them. As I’m applying the gauze, I notice other scars, some are faint but others are raised and look red an angry.
What the fuck happened to him?
“Finished checking me out?” His voice is thick with pain but I don’t call him on it, instead I grab his shoulders and help him to sit up. I frown at the sight of more scars covering his back, unlike the front these are… thick and raised, some looking really old while others look recent. I don’t realize I have reached out and begun tracing them until he stiffens and jerks forward, forcing me to drop my hand. Neither of us says a word as I climb to my feet ready to get the fuck out of here. “Meet me here at six tomorrow morning and I’ll tell you about the first trial before school starts.”
“How do I know you won’t bullshit me?” He snorts then cringes in pain.
“You’re a real fucking lady, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “I was raised to be true to who I am, can you say the same thing about yourself?” I don’t know why the fuck I said that but something about Artemis and the way he carries himself has me believing that he is hiding who he truly is.
“Some of us don’t have that luxury.” I don’t offer to help him as he slowly climbs to his feet. When he finally stands before me, I have to crane my neck to meet his gaze, the bastard loves this advantage he has over me. “Be warned, London, there is a trial that you will not want to face. No matter how tough you think you are, it will break you.” I snort and shake my head as I place my hands on my hips.
“Why, because I’m a girl?” I mock in a high pitched tone.
“No, because you have a soul and this trial will rob you of that.” I search his gaze trying to find a sign of deceit but see none.
“Whatever you say, pretty boy, see you in the A.M.,” I call out as I stalk out of his office, making sure to swing my hips a little extra. I stop in the doorway and peer over my shoulder at him, then scoff when I find his gaze glued to my ass. “Fucking males always eye fucking us women.”
He chuckles lightly and slowly lifts his head to meet my gaze. “I may hate you but I’m still a man and any man with eyes would be watching that ass and picturing it bouncing up and down on his cock.”
“Hmmm.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?” he asks.