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Two minutes later, I’ve managed to bandage his wounds to stem any additional bleeding. It’s tapered off and should stop altogether soon.
Finally, I hold up the syringes and tubing I pulled out for the transfusion. “I don’t know how to do this, but I think he needs blood.”
“I’ve done this part. Leave it to me.”
I’m horrified. “How often does he turn up in this shape?”
Ethan gets quiet again. “The first time, I was fourteen, right after my mother finally decided I was too much like Dad and dropped me on his doorstep for good. Probably the best thing she ever did, honestly. But it was late one night when my uncle Ridge barged through the front door, carrying my dad, who looked all kinds of fucked up. Ridge came equipped with tubing and blood packs he swiped from a bank, but he had me help Dad. It’s happened a couple times since. Not often…but it’s always rough.”
What is Ransom? And what am I getting myself into?
Now isn’t the time for questions.
“What do we need to do?”
Ethan hooks his foot around the leg of a rolling stool and drags it under my ass. “Sit. Close your eyes. Leave this to me.”
With a bob of my head, I do. I hear him working. The rubber tourniquet goes around my arm and squeezes. He swipes alcohol over the crook of my elbow. A minute later, the needle goes in my vein, first try. Almost no pain.
“There it is…” he murmurs.
“That’s it? You’re a pro.”
“Thanks. Never done this without help, but I guess there’s always a first time.”
Like me and stitches.
“Yeah.” I feel the blood traveling through my veins, exiting at the injection site. Ugh, this always gets me a little queasy. I need to talk to distract myself. And I need to say something to Ethan. “I’m sorry.”
“That you’re more into my dad than you were ever into me?”
I nod. “I couldn’t help it.”
“I know. And I’m sorry I got pissed at you. But I know it wasn’t one-sided. I saw the way Dad looked at you. I knew he wanted you in a way I didn’t. I mean, you’re hot, and if you had been willing, I would have gladly fucked you.” Ethan takes my chin in his grip, and I find myself staring into his hazel eyes. “But he wanted you. He burned for you. He fell for you.”
Those words make me go hot all over. “I fell for him, too.”
At my whisper, Ethan lets go. “Close your eyes again.”
I do. I need time to think.
“Something’s happened to you,” I blurt. “You’ve grown up in the last couple of months.”
He hesitates. “Let’s just say I’m finding my way.”
Then silence falls. Neither of us tries to fill it, which is a relief because I’m getting dizzy and I’m feeling the fact I skipped dinner.
Seconds later, Ethan removes the needle from my arm, sticks a cotton ball over the entry point, then finishes up with a quick bandage. When I open my eyes, he’s already done the same to his dad’s arm.
But Ransom’s color looks a hundred times better.
I glance up at him. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to. He’s my dad, remember? Just don’t break his heart, huh?”
More like the other way around, but if he lives, I’ll feel more than blessed.
“I never would.” But I think Ransom has already written off any potential future we might have together. “Are you going to take him home?”
If Ethan does, he might need help. I could stay and take care of Ransom until he rebounds. I’ll treasure the time we have together because he’ll probably ask me to leave again.
Ethan shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s smart. If whoever shot him knows his identity…”
They’ll only follow Ransom home. “Oh, that makes sense.”
“If I go back and act like nothing is wrong, it might deflect suspicion. And if things get hot, I’ll call one of my uncles. Plus, you have more medical knowledge and access to supplies.” Ethan gestures to the shelves behind him. “Got any ideas where to take Dad? You can’t stay here.”
He’s right. “My apartment, I guess.”
“Probably too obvious and not secure enough.” He pauses, thinks, then sighs. “Listen… I know of a place. It’s the party pad of a friend of a friend. He’s not in town right now, but he said I could use it whenever I want. It’s behind a gate, so it’s secluded and private. I’ll try to figure out who shot Dad and why. You stash him there until he’s well enough to defend himself.”
I have no idea how long that will take, but other than a quick animal check tomorrow afternoon, I’m not scheduled to work again until Wednesday. Hopefully, that’s long enough. “Okay.”
As I clean up the surgical room, Ethan stuffs his father back into his bloody T-shirt. Thankfully, it’s black, so the blood doesn’t show. I find spare towels in the storeroom, near the cleaning supplies, so my car won’t get blood-soaked.
