Page 186 of Savior
Dean reaches over his shoulder to grip the back of the t-shirt, pulling it up over his head and down his arms. They’re all scratched up, with some odd bruising and a few puncture wounds that look freshly scabbed over. He tosses the long-sleeved shirt back to Viking, who simply balls it up and puts it back down on the counter top.
“What happened to your shirt?” I ask.
“It got ripped.”
“How? Why? What the hell happened to you? One minute, you’re right behind me, following me home. Hours later, I’ve got prospects guarding the house and you show up like this. Looking like you were in another fight.”
“Let me see.” Cherry says, gently tapping Dean’s left arm. He reluctantly lifts it, revealing a five-inch gash in his side. “This is going to need stiches. Or staples. Which do you prefer?” she asks him.
“Jameson.” He mutters.
“Staples it is.” She sighs, wiping the wound down with the iodine as Dean attempts not to wince. “At least they’re quicker.”
Viking moves to the liquor cabinet, grabbing Dean a bottle of Jameson Whiskey. He breaks the seal, pouring him a shot as Cherry prepares the surgical staple gun.
“Alright, I’m ready.” She sighs as if she’s done this before too, and is tired of it.
Viking slides Dean the double shot. Dean leans back against the counter, his left elbow up on the marble, giving Cherry room to work as he stares at me, shooting the shot. I try not to wince with him, as he takes the staples in his side, one after the next, until Cherry is satisfied. She adds an ointment over the now closed wound and dresses it with bandaging.
“Thank you, Cherry.” Dean says. His eyes shift from me, to look at her. “Gonna need you to talk to Axel tonight. He’s back at the clubhouse waiting for you. Viking will give you a ride back.”
They stare at each other for a moment, able to communicate without further words. Dean brushes a strand of her bright red hair behind her ear as she nods, then turns from him to zip up the first aid kit. “I’ll just put this away and get going, then.” She says.
“I can do it, Cherry. Thank you for your help and for waiting with me.” I say. She grabs her purse from the kitchen counter where she left it earlier, and starts towards the door, stopping to hug me.
“You get used to this, I promise.” She whispers to me.
I hug her back, but don’t say anything else. I don’t want to get used to this. Dean needs to get his priorities straight.
“You can tell the prospects they’re free to go, too.” Dean says to Viking.
“You sure about that?” Viking quirks a brow at him.
“I’m sure.”
“Alright, bro.” he says, glancing at me as he moves toward the front door. “Good luck.” He opens the door, holding it for Cherry, and they leave together.
I watch as Dean gets up to pour himself another shot. It would be dead silent, if not for the sound of motorcycles roaring to life and riding off outside. Once they’re gone, however, I can hear him swallowing the shot of whiskey.
“What happened?” I ask again.
He pours himself another.
I move to the kitchen counter, yanking open the kit and grabbing the iodine and a swab, soaking it before I start to clean the odd wounds on his arms.
“I’d like to know why you disappeared, after everything that happened tonight with my family.”
“I didn’t.” he says. “I thought someone needed me.”
“I needed you.”
“I’m sorry… This won’t happen again.”
“Are you going to tell me what did happen?”
He nods slowly, then throws back the last shot. Shifting his stance now, he leans against the marble counter, palms down on the stone, head slightly hanging. “When you drove off, I got a text from someone… She needed my help.”
I cap the iodine and shove it back in the kit.
