Chapter 218: First Aid
- RORY -
The first thing I do when I shut the bathroom door is turn around and flatten against it. I’m alone. I’m safe. All of that just happened—the nightmare, the intruder, the shadow, the chase. And Luci happened. All of Luci.
But now we’re here. I found him. He’s with me. I’m safe. Raya and Dex are safe.
I look down at my hand again that’s pink and puffy around the black stitches and feel that sinking regret in the pit of my stomach for something so stupid I inflicted on myself. My head drops back against the door and eyes close, the mess of nerves everywhere finally the only thing I have to concentrate on. It feels like my whole body is jumping under its skin. Even my eyelids seem to have little live wires running through them that make it hard to just keep them closed.
I release a deep breath, realizing my breaths are only beginning to become less shallow. The fight or flight response is still on alert, prepared for more that it needs to face.
I don’t want anymore. I’ve had enough of this for a good long while now.
When thoughts start encroaching about what this could mean for the beautiful, romantic escape that Dex and Raya planned and so very much deserve, I have to push myself off the door and shut my mind off to it. The worry is just another layer of anxiety. I don’t want anything to ruin this for them.
Maybe Luciano’s guys will find the person responsible. Maybe Raya won’t absolutely freak out when she sees that I have a Frankenstein hand in the morning. Maybe we can just rewind and make this whole night not happen.
I groan and shake my head. Please make the worries stop.
The shower feels good when I finally get into it. It’s awkward, though. I have to try keeping my hand out of the water. Dr. Burt didn’t say anything about showers, but I’m assuming it’s not good to get the stitches wet.
It’s not like I need to wash my hair or anything. All I really want to do is rinse the blood off and feel the comfort of the warmth against my skin. It washes against those little jumping nerves, soothing them. Reminding my muscles what it means to relax.
Finally, after I’ve made the bathroom my own little shelter full of dense, lovely steam, I get out and dry off and put my underwear and bra back on. Then I look at Luciano’s shirt and can’t help but laugh a little.
I’m shocked he doesn’t sleep naked. It totally fits his personality. This t-shirt on the other hand, despite the fact that it’s a ’luxury-touch’ t-shirt, is not like him at all. But then again there are a lot of things surprising about him.
I’m grateful anyway. It does look a lot more comfortable than one of the nice shirts he wears.
With the loose pile of my folded dress and Luci’s knife in my hands, I finally open the bedroom door.
"Feel better, dolcezza?" Luci asks.
He’s sitting on the bed, staring at his phone and typing away. When he finally looks up, his dark eyes do that deep, overflowing thing again that makes me question everything I know about him. They draw down over me, and then he clears his throat, eyebrows pinching when his attention drops back to the phone.
"Yeah. What did you find out?" I ask, tossing the dress in the hamper in the corner of the room and setting the knife on the bedside table. As much as I would like to think it’s going to protect me, I’ve already proven how great I am at using it.
Luci looks at the knife and picks it up, turning it over in his hand. "You did still have it. Where was it?"
"In the dress. Clipped here." I show him where, lifting my arm.
"Good girl."
The praise shouldn’t flood me with warmth, especially with the way he says it. But it does, and my toes curl against the floor. I wince when one of them shoots with pain, lifting it after to take a look.
Now that the adrenaline has left, little scrapes and bruises are starting to flicker to my attention. They’re minor, but I sure managed to create a lot of them.
Luciano gets up from the bed and takes something from the closet, returning with a first aid kit.
"That’s seriously not necessary. I’m fine," I say in protest.
He ignores me and tugs me to the bed.
"Put your legs up, and I’ll take a look."
He takes out alcohol and some bandaids while I get situated sitting on top of the covers with my legs straight out in front of me. God, this is mortifying. His shirt at least reaches to my knees so I’m not flashing him my underwear.
The first dab of alcohol makes me jerk away.
"What?" Luci asks, raising his hands like he’s innocent.
"It stings. Sorry."
He smirks but says nothing more, getting back to work with soft little strokes while I bite my lip and try not to squirm at the sensation that alternates between burning and tickling. Maybe he’s really just doing this to torture me.
"Sonny and Dom haven’t found anything yet," he tells me, still concentrating on my feet. "But they’re still looking. Like I told them, the only way off this part of the peninsula is hiking deep into the forest or taking a boat. So it’s just a matter of time. At least we can be sure that whoever it is will be far away from the cabinas by now."
"We can?"
"Yeah." His gaze flicks back up. "At least for tonight. I don’t think they want to risk messing with me."
"Assuming they know who you are, of course."
"If they went after you, they do. It’s not like it was just some random local crouched and waiting in your room of all places," he says.
"Why? What makes you so sure?" I ask, watching the way he focuses on his task instead of looking at me. His lips are pursed together. Eyes narrowed. Hands careful.
"I just know. It’s a gift, I guess. Call it intuition. Maybe from doing what I do for so long. Plus, like you said - Costa Rica is a very safe country." Then he gives me another one of those teasing smirks. Thankfully I keep my toes from curling this time.
