So why did something inside me keep whispering they were the same?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Suture - thread of catgut or silk or wire used by surgeons to stitch tissues together.”
Dex
I didn’t really start to notice everything around me until I was sitting in the passenger side of the Roadster. The cold air outside acted like a wakeup call and really brought some clarity back into my head. I must have been completely out of it to agree to let her drive my car. I was about to tell her that I was the one who would be driving when she started yelling at me.
“What were you thinking?” Piper demanded as she put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb.
I calculated the odds I had of getting her to pull over and let me drive. I didn’t think they were very good and besides, I was comfortable.
“I didn’t like that guy’s attitude,” I said in response to her question. And my answer was actually true. Sure, I needed a reason to get her out of the diner, and sure, this would buy me some points for what I had planned, but when I saw him shove her, anger slammed through me.
“Well, I’m probably going to get fired,” she said, flat. “And you’re bleeding all over yourself and this car.”
I was such a hypocrite. Beating on a guy with a bad attitude directed at Piper when all the while I plotted her death. I didn’t have a right to be angry at anyone for what they did to her… yet I felt strangely territorial when it came to her. No one was allowed to hurt Piper. No one but me.
I was a world-class ass. I deserved an eternity of floating through an empty void.
For a moment I imagined what it might be like there. Maybe I should just cut my losses and let myself get recalled.
“Dex!” Piper demanded, worry in her tone.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“Hey! Stay with me. We’re almost there.” She flicked some switches in the dash and directed the heat vents toward me except they weren’t blowing heat yet and the air was icy cold.
“That’s freezing!” I complained.
“It will keep you awake.” She retorted. “And don’t be sorry. That guy had it coming. In the couple weeks he’s been at the diner he’s done nothing but torture us all.”
I didn’t say anything else as she pulled into the parking lot of the clinic where she interned. She got out and came around to open my door and I looked up at her. “What are we doing here?”
“You need stitches. He hit you with a frying pan.”
A frying pan. My plan worked a little too well. I knew there was a joke in this somewhere but I just couldn’t find one. This didn’t feel funny.
“Come on,” she said and I followed her into the side door of the clinic. She called out a greeting to one of the nurses who exclaimed over my bloody face and we were ushered into an empty exam room.
“We’re pretty backed up,” the nurse said, apparently this is a morning of accidents for everyone. “Unless you want to stitch him up?”
Piper shook her head. “My hand is too unsteady this morning. How about I get him cleaned up a bit then I will go out there and help out while you stitch him up?”
“Are you all right? You look pale.” The nurse said, reaching out to feel Piper’s forehead.
She smiled. “I’m fine, Jackie.”
“Well when I come back I want to hear about what happened,” she said, giving me a pointed look.
“It was the other guys fault,” I told her.
“It always is,” she said around a sigh then disappeared out of the room.
Piper began going through cabinets, pulling out supplies and creating a small pile on the rolling table beside her. Then she washed her hands, pulled on some plastic gloves and rolled her tray over beside me.
“Hold still. This might hurt,”
