AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 23
Zoe gripped Spence’s arm tightly and held it against her body. If he’d said something, she would have told him she was afraid he was dizzy. Woozy, after a hard blow on the head.
The truth was, she needed him close. Needed to feel his heart beating so she was sure he was alive. He could have been killed in that dirty garage. Fortunately, the blow hadn’t been hard enough to knock him out. It had made Spence stumble. Made him slower than normal. But what if Ethan had shoved him harder? What if his head had hit that concrete bumper with even more force?
Spence might have been knocked out. He might be on the way to the hospital with a serious head injury.
Or worse.
She gripped his arm more tightly as the elevator slowed, then stopped. Still holding his arm, she guided him into her bathroom.
Memories struck her as soon as they stepped into the room. She and Spence, in the shower together. Doing way more than showering.
Spence going down on her, the warm water pouring over both of them. He’d made her legs wobble until she wasn’t sure they’d hold her up.
She couldn’t afford this trip down memory lane while Spence was in pain and bleeding. Bright spots of crimson blood dotted the white tile. She guided him to the bench next to the shower and eased him down.
He leaned against the tile wall and closed his eyes. All those sexy memories vanished, leaving her shaken. Scared. Trembling.
“Can you open your eyes, Spence?” she asked.
His eyelids fluttered open, his gray eyes fixed on her. Right now his gorgeous eyes were pewter, dull and colorless. His face was white, a stark contrast to the red painting the back of his shirt.
“Maybe we should go to the emergency room,” she said.
He shook his head once. Froze with the movement, then said, “I’ll be fine. I don’t have a concussion. Head wounds bleed like a mother, and I just need to be cleaned up. Have a bandage put on the wound. Take some ibuprofen, and I’ll be good to go.”
“You’re not a doctor, Spence,” she said. “How do you know you don’t have a concussion?”
“Because I’ve had one before. I know what a concussion feels like. This?” He shrugged. “I’ll have a headache for a while, but I’ll be fine.” He held her gaze. “Soak a washcloth in warm water.” His mouth curled into a tiny smile. “A dark-colored one. Put some soap on it, then wash the wound. Dry it and I’ll see how it looks.”
“I can do that.” Her hands shook so badly she wasn’t sure if she could do that, but she’d do her best. “I really think we need to go to the emergency room. Or at least an urgent care center.”
“Don’t need that,” Spence said as he leaned against the wall.
Stubborn man.
He was leaning against the wall, and she needed to be at his back. “You’ll need to sit on the toilet,” she said. “Turn around so I can see the wound and take care of it.”
That small smile appeared again. “I wondered when you’d figure that out.” He stood up slowly, then lowered himself onto the closed toilet. Rested his arms on the top of the tank, then lowered his forehead to his arms. “Have at it.”
The wound was a red gash on the back of his head. Blood had clotted in his hair and continued to ooze out of the wound, but it was a lazy drip drip drip instead of a gush. Blood soaked the top of his shirt and splattered on the bottom.
She’d never dealt with a wound like this, and she was afraid she’d hurt him. But she got a navy blue washcloth out of the linen closet and soaked it in warm water. Then she slid her arms around his back and unbuttoned his shirt. Eased it off his shoulders, and tossed it onto the floor.
She wanted to keep her arms around him, to reassure herself he was alive and well, but Spence needed her to take care of that wound.
So she draped a navy blue bath towel over his shoulders and grabbed the soaking washcloth. She wrung it out, then dabbed at the area of the gash. Pink water ran down onto the towel, and she rinsed off the washcloth and wiped at the area around the wound again.
By the time she was sure all the blood was out of his hair, the water in the sink was bright red. She pressed a dry towel to the back of Spence’s head and studied the area. She was pretty sure the wound had stopped bleeding. But she’d need to shave some of his head to apply a bandage.
“I’ve got good news and bad news,” she said. “Which do you want first?”
He turned his head slowly to look over his shoulder at her. “Gimme the good news.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s stopped bleeding. It looks clean. No dirt or… or crud in the wound.”
“Thank God,” he said, frowning. “That crud is dangerous.”
