Page 81 of Marx Girl


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“Stay there, Bridget,” Cameron snaps. “You get back in the chair, Ben,” he orders.

Ben squeezes my hand and goes back to his operating chair. I stay on the lounge. Cam lifts the scalpel again. “Oh, God,” I cry.

“Cover your eyes, Bridget, for fuck’s sake,” Cameron snaps.

I grab the cushion and hold it over my face as my heart begins to race.

Ben hisses.

I screw up my face. “Are you all right?” I mumble from behind my cushion.

I peek around the corner of it to see Cameron digging in the cut with tweezers with all his strength, and I slap the cushion back over my face. “Hurry up, Cameron. I can’t stand it anymore,” I cry.

“Shut. Up. Bridget,” Ben snaps.

The room falls silent. Ben inhales sharply. ”Got it,” Cameron announces proudly.

I flop back onto the lounge in relief. “Oh, thank God,” I whisper.

“You’re going to need a few stitches, mate,” Cam replies as he sticks his finger into the wound.

I sit up, my eyes suddenly wide again. “You’re going to stich him without anaesthetic?”

“It’s fine, Bridget.” Ben sighs. “Just do it, Cam.”

I lie back down.

I feel faint again. I throw the back of my forearm over my eyes. This isn’t good. I would make a terrible nurse.

“So, you two are going back to Australia now?” Cam asks. How he can just make a casual conversation as he plays with raw, bleeding human flesh is beyond me.

“No, we’re headed home to my place for a week or so,” Ben replies.

I peek over to see Cam concentrating as he pulls the thread through Ben’s skin with the tweezers, and I slap the cushion back over my eyes.

This is fucking hell. I’m wet with perspiration. How long is this torture going to last? “How on earth do you do this job, Cam?” I call.

He shrugs. “It comes naturally. I kind of always liked blood and guts. It fascinates me.”

I get a vision of him cutting through organs with a scalpel and feel myself go woozy again. “Can you not talk about guts please?” I stammer.

They both laugh.

Finally, I hear the words I’ve been waiting for.

“All done.”

Ben looks over to me, and laughs. “You’re green.”

“Really?” I sigh. “I feel kind of yellow at the moment.”

Cam smiles. “You’re that, too.” He passes a specimen jar to Ben with the microchip inside. The two of them eye it suspiciously

“It’s bigger than I thought.” Ben frowns.

“It was a tricky fucker to get out, that’s for sure,” Cam replies. “You will be a bit sore for a few days. I had to dig pretty deep.”

“Enough!” I cry. “I can’t deal with this anymore.”

Ben laughs as he stands and walks over to me. “You, Bridget Marx, are a bona fide wimp.”

“Happily,” I mutter under my breath. “You could not pay me enough to be a heart surgeon, Cameron.”

Cameron smiles cheekily. “Hearts are better. They pump as you cut them.”

My eyes widen in horror as I get a visual, and the guys both laugh out loud.

“Can we call a cab, please?” I ask. “I’m tired, and completely grossed out.”

“I’m on my way out. I’ll drop you at your hotel,” Cameron offers.

“You got a date?” I ask.

“I have to go into work for a while.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“No.” He smiles, and throws his arm around my shoulders as we walk up the hall.

“I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth.”

“But you totally love me, right?” He knocks our heads together as we walk.

“Speaking of love… when are you going to fall in love, Cam?” I mutter dryly.

He chuckles. “Ha. Love. Don’t be stupid. I’m here for a good time, not a long time. Love is my worst nightmare.”

“Didge?” Ben’s soft voice murmurs into the darkness.

I blink as I try to focus. I look around the room in a rush. “Huh? What?”

It’s dark, and the bathroom light shines into our room.

Ben is completely dressed, and our bags are by the door. My clothes are laid out on the end of the bed. “What’s going on?” I ask.

“Nothing, babe. Our flight leaves at 6:00 a.m.”

“Are you serious? I’m so tired, Ben. I need to sleep.”

“I know, angel. We need to go home.”

I lie still for a moment and try to focus my eyes. “I can hardly remember coming back here last night.” I sigh.

“You fell asleep in the car,” he murmurs as he flicks the kettle on for me. “I had to put you to bed like a child.”

“I’ve been traveling a lot. I can’t take it anymore. The thought of flying… ugh!” I put my hands over my eyes. “Can’t we just go tomorrow?” I plead.

“This was the only flight I could get us on, Didge.” He bends and kisses me softly on the lips. Then again and again. Eventually, I smile and throw my arms around his neck. “That’s more like it. Come back to bed,” I whisper.

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