Page 95 of Payback
“Um, me?” I asked, stepping around him, my hands still stained with his blood, and regarding him with a mixture of shock and disbelief.
“I can’t see it,” he explained.
“There’s a thing called a mirror.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that I can’t properly clean it. You need to do it.”
“Why am I doing this? Why is this even necessary? Jared!” I yelled.
He gripped the back of the chair, using it for support to help himself stand. He looked unsteady on his feet, and I reached out to help him. After a moment to regain his composure, he pushed me away and left the bathroom. I was about to follow him when other pressing matters demanded my attention. I quickly tidied up before relieving myself and removing the plug. Then I found something else to wear and went in search of Jared.
His struggles with balance created a fair amount of noise, leading me to his room. I heard him inside the bathroom and watched as he swallowed a few pills before leaning against the sink.
“You know, this might be a completely insane idea, but have you ever noticed that big white building with the word ‘HOSPITAL’ written on it?” I asked, noticing him turn his head, his expression far from appreciative of my sarcasm.
“I’m familiar with the building,” he replied, his tone edged with annoyance.
“Did it ever occur to you, while you were bleeding all over the place and on your way here, to think, ‘maybe I should go to the hospital’? Did that thought ever cross your mind? Instead, you asked someone who’s never stitched up a person before to patch you up.”
“I can do without the sarcasm,” he snapped.
“Yeah, well, I could do without experiencing what it feels like to pierce human skin with a needle,” I retorted.
He sighed and shook his head. “What do you want, Alison?”
“I don’t know. A drink to calm my nerves and maybe the damn truth!” I shouted.
“You can have the drink.”
He pushed past me once again, heading to his closet to change. I followed him, observing his struggle to remove his pants. He had to sit down and do it very slowly to avoid causing further harm.
“You’re cut in the front too!” I exclaimed when I noticed a small cut on his arm.
“It’s a flesh wound. It’s fine.”
“Fine?” I questioned in disbelief.
“Can you just hand me those pants and that shirt?” he asked, pointing to two pieces of clothing.
“No!”
“Alison, do as I tell you!”
“Not until I get the truth!” I yelled.
“Well, you can’t fucking have it! Now give me the damn clothes!” he growled.
I crossed my arms, maintaining my stubborn stance. However, all he had to do was raise an eyebrow and challenge me silently, causing me to feel uncertain. I begrudgingly moved toward the clothes he had pointed to.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered as I reluctantly followed his demand.
Returning to him, I handed him the clothes. It was a rather pitiable sight to see him struggling to put on pants again, and when it came to his shirt, he couldn’t manage it.
“Alison!” he called out once more.
“For fuck’s sake!” I exclaimed.
“My arm,” he reminded me.
