Page 57 of Intent to Kill
“I was just sitting there… they were the ones rude enough to stare,” Mercedes said. “Is it because of Dorian?”
“That, maybe. But rich little white girls make my patients uncomfortable,” Brooke said.
“Sure, fair shot,” Mercedes said, grinning as she bowed her head.
Brooke pulled up a stool and sat in front of Mercedes to examine her. “What can I do for you?”
She tussled the collar of her white dress shirt down her arm, revealing a deep cut on her shoulder. It was packed with tissues that had filled with blood in a poor attempt to keep the wound closed. “I think I need stitches.”
Wheeling back to the bench, Brooke put on blue latex gloves and grabbed some cotton pads. Settling back in front of Mercedes, she safely removed the tissues from the wound and winced. Must’ve looked pretty gross. Mercedes had only stuffed it once to keep it from pooling, but she imagined it had to be caked in dried blood by now.
“You do need stitches.” She dabbed the cotton pads in antiseptic wash and prodded at the edges. Discarding the waste in the bin, she went back to the bench, returning with a horrid-looking needle and kit. “What happened to you? Dorian?”
“Nah,” Mercedes said. “Got into a little fist fight, scratched myself up on some broken glass.”
Brooke spun to face her, looking concerned. “And what are you doing in a fight? Aren’t you supposed to be First Lady material now?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Brooke gave no warning before she spread a cold cream over Mercedes’s arm, which made her shoulder tingle until eventually she could feel nothing, only watching as the needle and stitches pierced her skin.
“And are you bringing my brother into this? God knows, you never do anything without him.”
“Don’t worry about Paul,” Mercedes said. She winced as Brooke pulled the needle again.
“M, if my brother–”
“Paul won’t get hurt. You know I’d never let that happen.”
Brooke studied Mercedes’s face like it held the answers to life. Surely she didn’t need any more proof that Mercedes wouldn’t let anything happen to Paul. She’d proven that enough times to earn the benefit of the doubt.
“Tell him I said hello,” Brooke whispered, her pain-filled eyes drifting to the floor.
“He keeps his distance to protect you.”
“I know,” Brooke said.
Mercedes tried to apologize with her eyes, knowing the actual words wouldn’t do much. After all, it was the mess that she and Adam had created, which meant Brooke had to hide. Brooke and Paul hadn’t seen each other in years. Maybe if they could pull this off, then all the hiding could stop. “Maybe it won’t be too long until you see him again.”
“What? Why?” Brooke said, narrowing her eyes. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing, I’m just saying it might not be long.” Mercedes smiled, one that she couldn’t contain, so she turned her face away to keep it hidden. But that just gave it away even more.
“He’s come back, hasn’t he?”
“What?”
“I can see it in your face.”
“You couldn’t possibly tell that from just my face,” Mercedes scoffed.
“Don’t try to lie to me.” Brooke dabbed the blood away from Mercedes’s arm and continued stitching. “Your silence tells me everything I need to know.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about, I swear,” Mercedes said, jumping at the pull of the suture.
“I don’t want to see a repeat of last time,” Brooke said, concentrating on the stitches like she couldn’t bear to look at her.
“Neither do we,” Mercedes whispered. “This time it’s different. If we get it right, you can see Paul whenever you want.”
