Jamie reaches into his bag and takes out a portable light. “When I extract it, I’ll need you to shine that on the wound so I can find it.”
What is this? Medieval times? “Seriously? You’re going to be digging into his flesh while I stand over him holding a flashlight?”
“It’s how this is done, Bonny.”
“Can you hold the light or do I need to fetch one of the goons to come in here instead?”
“My bonny one is tough.” Sin squeezes my hand. “She’s got this.”
He wants me here with him. How can I say no? “I can do it.”
I’ve been with fellow agents when they’ve taken a bullet but this is an entirely new experience. I don’t want to watch what Jamie’s doing. Each time I attempt to look away, the light moves and he scolds me, so I’m forced to keep my eyes on Sin’s wound when he injects him with local using a long ass needle and again while stainless steel pliers dig into his shoulder. “Can you not give him something for pain?”
“I did. I injected him with lidocaine and gave him a shot of morphine. He’ll be fine.”
“He doesn’t look fine.” He’s clenching my hand so tight it hurts. “You need another drink?”
“I won’t turn it down.”
I fill his tumbler and he downs it in one gulp. “Thanks.”
He sighs as he lies back on the bed. “Let’s get this done.”
“Have one of those men come in and hold the light so I can talk to him.” I’m sure I won’t be able to distract him from all the pain but maybe I can help take his mind off it a little.
The skinny one comes in after Jamie calls for him. I take Sin’s hand and Jamie returns to his previous task. “I had to have a few IVs when I was a kid and this is what my dad did. He’d kneel at my bedside, hold my hand, and talk. His voice didn’t take away all the pain but it soothed me. There’s something special about hearing a father’s voice tell you everything is going to be okay. You can’t not believe he’s telling the truth,” I say.
“I got pneumonia when I was a child and had to go into the hospital. They gave me an IV for the antibiotics and I cried because it was painful. My father told me to suck it up and stop being a baby. I think I was five.”
Sin grimaces; I look over at Jamie. He’s digging deep.
“Breathe in slow … and deep.” He does and his chest expands. “Now, blow it out slowly. Close your eyes and concentrate on breathing. Push the pain out of your mind. You can do this.”
We repeat the process through four cycles—me talking him through—and Jamie finally announces, “Got it.”
Thank God!
“That fucker was in deep.” He holds the lead slug up to the light in his gloved hand. “I’m sorry, mate. I know that hurt like a son of a bitch. I didn’t have a needle long enough to get the local in that far. That’s why it hurt more than usual.”
He still needs to suture him so I pour another whisky. He takes it without hesitation. “This part won’t be bad since the skin is numb. The deep digging is what was killing me.”
I see a huge difference in his posture. It’s more relaxed.
He continues holding my hand, stroking his thumb back and forth across my palm on the underside where it’s hidden from Jamie. “How did shopping with my mum go today?”
Jamie stops and looks at us but doesn’t say a word before returning to his suture job.
“Surprisingly well. She helped me choose this bedding.” I want to tell him he’s wrong about her but now isn’t the time.
“The bedding that I’ve now ruined.”
“It can be replaced. You’re okay. That’s all that matters.”
He picks up one of the pillows next to his head. “I want you to buy this same set again, ruffled pillows and all.”
“You like it that much?”
“You like it so I like it.”
Jamie leaves after he’s finished caring for Sin and it’s the two of us. “We should get you out of these trousers.”
“Now, you’re talking.” He lifts his hips when I pull downward. “I believe you, Miss MacAllister, are trying to take advantage of a man while he’s on the poppy.”
“You wish.”
“Aye. That is an incredibly accurate statement.”
I wrestle his pants off and decide to leave him in his boxer briefs. The morphine is kicking in. I don’t feel like dressing a giant toddler.
His breathing becomes heavy and steady. He’s asleep.
I can’t believe I’ve come so far with Sin in such a short period. It was my plan to make it happen as quickly as possible. I wanted to get the job done and return home but I never dreamed it would occur in this short time. At this rate, I’ll be inside Thane’s home very soon. And my work here will be done.
I push Sin’s hair from his forehead. “I’m going to miss you when I’m gone. I truly will.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sinclair Breckenridge
Bleu hasn’t been happy with me in days. She thinks I should have stayed home to recuperate longer. I think differently.
We’re alike in so many ways but this isn’t one of them. I don’t know how to make her understand that this wound is nothing. It was a simple gunshot to my shoulder. I’ve been through so much worse.
“Mr. Breckenridge.” I look up to see my secretary standing at my desk. “Are you feeling all right ?”
“Of course.”
She looks puzzled. “I called your name three times before you responded.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
“You were looking right at me, sir.” I don’t think so. I’d remember looking straight at her while she said my name. “You don’t look like your usual self, Mr. Breckenridge. You’re pale.”
The truth is I don’t feel well. “I could be coming down with something. I think I’ll take the rest of the afternoon off.”
“Take it easy over the weekend,” Heather says. “You’ll be back to a hundred percent by Monday.”
Rest. That’s what I need. “I’ll do that. See you next week.”
I get into my car but the next coherent moment I have is when I realize Sterling is waiting for me to get out of the car. I can’t remember the drive home from work. “Are you all right, sir?” No. I’m not. Something isn’t right.