Page 66 of Sin Deep
He nodded. “Yes, thank you, Kelvin. He got stitches today. It looks like we’ve overdone it a bit.”
“The knot is perfect.” Kelvin left them and he took Harley’s wrists.
“What haven’t you told me?” He asked softly, making quick but gentle work of removing the rope.
“I’m sure they just pulled. I’ll find a bathroom and rinse it out and tighten the bandage.”
“No, you will not. We are going home.” He reached a hand down to help Harley to his feet.
“What? I didn’t even finish my margarita…”
Winter pointed to the growing stain on those jeans. Stubborn was one thing, foolish was another.
“We go home before you end up in the ER. Can you get up?”
“Of course.” But by the time Harley was up, he was pale under the tan. “I think you’re right about the drink. Can we go?”
“Mhm.” Winter tucked an arm around the boy to give him something to lean on and sat Harley against a bar stool so he could call a car. “Deacon, can I get a towel please?” He was concerned Harley had torn the stitches open, but he’d settle for home first and then call for help if they needed it.
“Of course.” Deacon looked down, and his eyes went wide. “Let me get you a car. One minute, Sir.”
“Yes, thank you.” He put his phone away and let Deacon handle it. “Clint doesn’t like blood, you know. We’ll hear from him tomorrow.”
One of Harley’s eyebrows winged up. “I didn’t bleed on his floor. I didn’t know I was bleeding. I’ll totally wait outside.”
Winter snorted. “I’m sorry, petit. That was mostly a joke. We’ll probably hear from him, but only to see how you are doing.”
Deacon gave him a towel and set out a glass of water. “In case you’re thirsty, Harley. Does it hurt? What did you do?”
“He had an accident at work and has stitches.”
“Oh, man. That sucks. Take it easy, okay?”
“Thank you. I will. I’m sure it just pulled some, you know?” Harley shrugged one shoulder. “Shit timing on my part.”
“There’s never a good time to get hurt, petit. Let’s go out and look for our car.” The ones that Deacon called came quickly; they were usually on retainer with the club.
“Yeah. Still. I want to have a good weekend with you.”
“We will have a wonderful weekend. We’ll be together.” He led Harley outside and straight into the waiting car.
He hated the way Harley was bleeding, and it seemed to take forever for them to get to his building and up the stairs.
“Let’s get to the bathroom, petit, and get your shirt off. How are you feeling? You look so pale. Be truthful, please. Just tell me everything.” He tried to keep calm, but he wasn’t the stoic type. He was worried about his boy.
“A little tender. I want to get cleaned up and maybe fix this evening. It’s been a rough day.”
“We’re home. We can make some tea and put on a movie, or read some of your book, or just snuggle on the couch.” Once they made it to the bathroom, he helped Harley get undressed, removing his shirt and bloody jeans.
The bandage was soaked, and when he removed it, finding a line of stitches along the muscled thigh. A couple were popped, the blood moving sluggishly.
He frowned. He wasn’t sure what to do. It looked bad, but he wasn’t thrilled with a papercut so, maybe he wasn’t the best judge. “That doesn’t look good to me, Harley. Perhaps I will call for someone to come repair your stitches.”
Harley winced and shook his head. “It’s just sore. I don’t think I want it touched a lot more…”
“Will it stop bleeding?” He found his sad little first aid kit. It wasn’t much, but it did have gauze and tape, some butterfly bandages, Neosporin.
“It has to. I don’t want to leak no more.” Harley swallowed hard, like he was taking in a frog.
