AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We are exhausted, trapped, uncertain of what tomorrow brings.
But having her in my arms feels like having a guardian angel.
Callie snuggles in closer. I kiss the top of her head and drift asleep thinking that I couldn’t care less about this cursed paradise.
Who needs paradise when you have heaven?
22
ARCHER
I wakeup on the floor. My head is a glass jar full of metal beads that split my brain with dozens of shards of pain when I try to get up.
“Argh!”
I grunt loudly as pain shoots like a spiderweb through my body.
My ribs hurt. There’s something wrong. My jaw is stiff, teeth clenched.
I’m not sure what time it is, but the ashtray on the coffee table is clean—the maid was already here.
Shit.
I get up with difficulty and limp to the bathroom.
The giant mirror gives me a monstrous view of myself.
“Beautiful,” I murmur as I study my torso, bruised and smeared with blood. My face looks like I fell flat on it onto the ground. My jeans from yesterday are soaked with blood.
I strip naked and get into the shower, programmed to the perfect temperature.
I don’t remember ever being in such pain. Not since we got into a fight with the drug mules in Tijuana. With Droga. Funny that my best and most fucked up memories have to do with him.
The water cascades down my body from three showerheads, searing my skin with pain.
“Corlo, twenty degrees colder.”
I need the swelling to go down.
I need to wake up, because my head still feels like a vacuum.
I need painkillers.
When I finally step out of the shower, I feel more or less like a human.
There are fifteen missed calls. But for once, I don’t bother checking who they are from.
Doc is on speed-dial. When he comes ten minutes later—always right away like he sits and waits for my calls—I don’t argue when he does a full body exam.
“You might have a fractured rib,” he says. “But not broken.”
He treats my cuts and bruises, and I let him—he is the only person who takes care of me these days. It’s a sad life when your special person is your physician.
“You should really stop with that cage fighting thing,” Doc says.
His voice is low and concerned. I wish my dad talked to me like that.
“This island depends on your wellbeing,” he adds.
