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“I don’t know. But I’ll take the fact it hasn’t as a good sign.” I winked, hoping to reassure her.
While the wind continued howling and pelting the metal roof with debris, I tore open the plastic totes and started gathering the things we needed. The woman nervously watched as I quickly spread several after-care blankets beneath the bondage table.
“What do you say we get under the table, where it’s safe, before I clean your wounds?”
“I say yes.” She nodded, anxiously eyeing the roof still being pummeled by hail and debris.
After scooting off the padded leather, she sucked in a hiss of pain, then bent and grabbed her ankle.
“Is it broken?” I asked.
“I don’t think so. I think I just twisted it.”
With a nod, I scooped her into my arms again. Savoring the current of energy humming through me I squatted, and carefully eased her onto the blankets.
“Sit back and relax as best you can. I’ll join you in a second.”
As if connected by some strange invisible thread, I felt her eyes on me while I lit several candles and placed them on the cement floor near the table. Clutching the first aid kit, I crawled in and joined her.
Starting with the cut on her head, I gently wiped away the blood. Thankfully, the gash was small and didn’t need stitches.
“I didn’t know I’d been rescued by a Boy Scout.” She softly chuckled.
“Trust me. I’m no Boy Scout,” I replied without expounding on all the reasons why.
Not only was she scared enough from narrowly escaping a certain death by Mother Nature’s wrath, but she was also huddled under a table in a former meat locker with a man she didn’t know.
“Thank you, by the way,” she softly said as I placed a small adhesive bandage over the cut on her forehead. “I’d be dead if you hadn’t carried me in here.”
“No need to thank me. I wasn’t about to leave you lying in that parking lot, darlin’,” I confessed, lifting her hand before softly cupping her palm in mine.
Heat rolled up my arm and down my spine. I knew then, if I ever got lucky enough to get the stunning beauty naked and under me, she’d sear the flesh off my bones.
“I really tore them up, didn’t I?” She grimaced, staring at her bloodied, tattered knuckles.
“Well, my momma always said, if you’re gonna do a job…do it right,” I drawled with a smirk.
“She sounds like a smart woman.”
“She was.” I nodded.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No. You’re fine. She’s been gone a long time.” Four years really wasn’t a long time, it just felt like it. As I clutched a bottle of peroxide, I peered into the woman’s pretty hazel eyes. “This is gonna sting.”
“I’d rather deal with the sting than an ugly infection.” She shrugged. “At least it’s not alcohol.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that to you.”
A tiny noise of discomfort rattled the back of her throat as I doused first her left hand, then the other, with peroxide.
Though we’d only been inside the shelter a matter of minutes, it seemed hours before the tornado moved on and the winds died down. The rain continued pelting the metal roof as I bandaged her hands before moving on to her bloodied knees.
The craggy gravel had left holes in her jeans. Unfortunately, they weren’t big enough for me to tell how much damage had been done to her skin, let alone give me enough room to properly clean her wounds. I bit back the demand she take them off and dug the pocketknife from my jeans.
“I need to cut your jeans a little bit so I can clean your knees,” I said apologetically.
“It’s okay. They’re ruined anyway. I have more in my suit—” she stopped mid-sentence, and winced. “What are the chances my car’s still outside?”
