Page 27 of Broken
Slowly, she puts one of her palms in mine. Her skin is warm, and this close I smell the subtle hint of cherry blossoms.
I clean her palms. She’s as stoic as she can be, wincing a little and biting her bottom lip. I focus on the wound, not those teeth dragging across her lip.
Once both palms are cleaned, and ointment applied, I wrap bandages around them. Calli objects, but I tell her she can take them off in a couple of hours. The cuts need to stay clean for now and band aids won’t stick to her palm. Then I move onto her knees.
I drop to my knees instead of bending down, my back and arm are starting to hurt more. The painful throbbing in my elbow worries me.
“I’m sorry about hitting you.”
“It was my fault, I stepped off the sidewalk without looking. I’m lucky it was a bike and not that car that came around the corner.”
She quietens as I finish up dealing with the cuts and grazes on her legs, trying not to focus too much on how smooth her skin is, and how up close and personal I’m getting to her lower half. Or the goosebumps that rise on her skin where I’m touching her.
Once I’m done, I use the table beside her to haul myself up and my arm buckles.
“Garrett,” her eyes widen.
I think that is the first time I’ve heard her say my name, and fuck it sounds good. But the moment is lost to the shooting pain in my elbow.
Calli looks horrified as she hops off the table and stands to my side, reaching out to touch my arm.
“It’s swelling up. You should have said something.”
Before I can protest, she is into the first aid bag. “I need ice,” she whirls back to face me.
“It’s fine don’t worry.”
“It’s not fine. Have you seen it?”
I turn to the mirror and get my first glimpse. Shit. The bruising is getting darker, and she’s right, the elbow joint is swollen. Before I say anything, she is dashing out of the room.
When she returns, she has ice, and Lucky in tow.
“Oh God, Garrett.”
“Did you need to bring her?” I ask Calli.
“She’s worried,” Calli says, coming at me with a towel. She presses it carefully to my arm, making me wince. “Sorry,” she mutters, but holds it against my elbow.
The ice makes me shiver but the effect of it is soothing. Lucky is rooting around in the first aid bag and comes up with some painkillers and a glass of water. Together they force me onto the table, despite my protests. It’s best not to argue when there are two of them ganging up on me.
I’ve had worse injuries, but fuck, thisispainful.
“Here, move this out of the way a second.”
Lucky takes the towel of ice from Calli and steps back as Calli uses a paper towel to dry off my arm. She opens a tube of Arnica cream and applies it to the joint and bruising.
“I’m not a doctor so I don’t want to move it, but I think you need to get this x-rayed.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“The ice and painkillers will sort it out.”
“Can you move it?” Calli folds her arms, acting like the one in control here. This is my shop, my arm.
“She’s right, Garrett. I think you need the hospital.” Worry is written all over Lucky’s face.
