Page 157 of Five Brothers
My legs dangle over the side as he dabs a pad with some saline solution on the corner of my lip and cleans up my nose. The guys and kids are making a ruckus downstairs, and I can’t tell who’s being louder.
“So did you have fun?” I ask, swinging my legs as I look up at him.
He holds my face, dabbing ointment on the cut on my cheek. “You got the shit kicked out of you, and you’re smiling?”
“I’m still breathing.”
He meets my eyes, looking unamused before returning his attention to my face.
I can’t explain it. I’m injured, but I’m not in pain. All I can feel right now are his hands.
“You still feel nauseous?” he asks me.
I shake my head, drinking the rest of the juice.
“Who was it?” he demands.
I drop the juice pouch in the garbage can. “Just some girls.
Aracely and I took care of it.” And then I add, “Mostly Aracely.”
“Krisjen …”
“Did you have fun?” I press again and try to get him to look at me. “It was pretty amazing to see you stand up to Jerome. I don’t usually get to see you in action. I liked it.”
He goes still, breathing a little harder.
“Is he an old rival?” I say in a quiet voice.
He throws the bloody pads away and cracks an ice pack, activating it. “Saint versus Swamp isn’t anything new.”
He places the pack along my jaw and takes my hand, planting it there to hold it in place.
“He’ll want you more now,” he says, almost whispering. “Because he thinks you’re mine.”
My heart thuds hard.
“Maybe I should’ve fought back,” I tell him. “All Bay women are fighters, right?”
“My woman won’t need a steel jaw.” He puts away the supplies. “Just a steel stomach.”
I watch him as he avoids my gaze, doing everything he can not to look at me. God, I want to know her. The woman who will belong to him.
He peels off some thin strips of tape, bandaging the cut on my cheek. He’s pretty good at this. My parents would just pay someone to do it.
“Sometimes I wonder how much of your military training you’re willing to use to keep the Bay safe,” I think out loud, listing on my fingers. “You seem to know computers, mechanics, and you’re definitely skilled at strategy … What did you do in the Marines?”
“I was a combat medic.”
I laugh, feeling the sting as he puts the final piece of tape over my cut.Of course.I should’ve seen that coming.
“Did you ever see combat?”
He nods.
“Must’ve been hard.” I start to lean into his fingertips as they brush my skin, but I stop myself. “Especially seeing that aspect of it. But still … do you miss being out in the world?”
He swallows, turning away to get another piece of tape and then coming back to me. “The more I got a glimpse of how big the world is, the smaller I wanted mine to be,” he says. “I saw a lot, traveled … And I learned that the only things that brought me joy were the things that were familiar.”