Page 249 of Property of Whiskey

“Not yet.”

“Yet?” She laughs and heads through the curtain.

I follow.

Twila barely reaches the bench before Cal appears.

“Sit.”

She does. I hate that.

Cal puts on gloves and leans closer. “Split lip.”

“Not bad.”

“I know.” He reaches toward her face.

I step forward. “I got it.”

Twila looks at me.

Every muscle across my shoulders locks. “I can clean a cut.”

Twila gives me a look. “He’s working.”

I hate that she’s right. Hate him being this close more.

Still, I step back.

He cleans the cut. “You still do this shit.”

Twila smiles without humor. “Still.”

“You’re gonna get hurt one day.”

I answer before I can stop myself. “She knows.”

Both of them look at me.

I lift one shoulder. “She ain’t stupid.”

Twila’s eyes stay on mine.

I straighten. “She don’t need me deciding it.”

Cal goes quiet. So does Twila.

I look at her instead of him. “I wanted to drag her ass outta that ring the second she started bleeding.”

Her mouth almost smiles. “Romantic.”

“Hated every fucking second. But it’s hers.”

Twila looks at me differently after that.

Cal hears it too. He closes his medic kit. “I’m done.”

“Thanks,” Twila says.