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“I put the bullet inside you. I’ll get it out,” she states, matter-of-factly.
Well, isn’t this cute. The beautiful Zoe Miller pretending like the only reason she wants to play nurse with me is based on her fucking morals. I know better. She may hate me, but she fucking cares about me.
“Fine.” I growl, relaxing back into the cushioned back on the bench seat. “You get one attempt. If you can’t manage it, I’m taking over. I don’t feel like enduring more pain than I have to.”
“Fine.” She mutters, shifting to try to get a good position to tackle this task.
Without even thinking, I find myself gripping her hips and shifting her to settle on my lap, straddling me. She opens her mouth to protest, but the glare I shoot her snaps her lips shut quickly, before her gaze moves back to the wound in my shoulder.
I take another swig or five of the Jack, reveling in the burn as it goes down, sending radiating warmth from my stomach to the rest of my body.
I offer the bottle to Zoe then, ignoring her scowl. “Liquid courage.”
When she doesn’t take the bottle from me, I growl again, too fucking tired to deal with drama, “You’re so fucking pale I’m scared you’re going to pass out, Princess. And that would be real fucking bad since we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. Take a sip. It will help.”
She rolls her eyes before she snatches the bottle off me and takes a sip, and then she cringes a little, her face contorting as the burn becomes too much for her.
“Thank you,” she rasps, shooting me a smile of gratitude even though her throat is on fire right now. It doesn’t deter her though, her gaze locking onto the wound as she blindly passes me back the Jack. “Okay, here goes nothing.”
Moving the tweezers to the wound, I study her face, so close now that she’s straddling me, watching how her blue gaze darkens as she hones in on her target. My bullet wound.
“Don’t forget to breathe, Princess.” I snake my good arm around her slight frame, stroking my thumb over the small of her back. “I trust you.”
My words gain her attention again, her eyes locking with mine. It’s like she’s waiting for me to start laughing and deny that I don’t trust her at all, so I offer her a somber expression, hoping she sees that I mean what I say.
“I can do this,” she whispers to herself, shifting closer.
I stiffen as she eases the tweezers into the open wound, pain searing through me and sending a hot flush over me from head to toe.
Don’t fucking pass out.
Don’t fucking pass out.
Then, everything goes black.
Grayson
Softcloud-likecushioningunderneathme is the first thing I notice. The next is the utter quietness with the distant sound of birds.
My lids fly open, my eyes taking a few blinks to adjust enough for me to make out that I’m in my bed at the cabin.
What the fuck happened?
I shift to sit up, but I still as searing pain bursts from my shoulder, causing my memory to catch the fuck up with me really fucking fast.
Princess shot me.
I rode us here.
And she was taking out the bullet…
Fuck! I fainted!
I jerk upright in the bed, breathing deeply through the pain and light-headedness that wants to sit me on my ass again.
A quick glance around my bedroom shows I’m alone.
Shit.
