“It’s okay.” Ava looks up at me, her complexion a bit pale, and swallows again. “It was just an accident.”
It was an accident. But somehow, it’s so disturbing that I did that to her that my stomach sours and bile creeps up my throat.
“Okay, just sit very still.” I stand up to fasten my fly and buckle my belt before darting to the bathroom to retrieve a towel. Returning to the bedside, I drape it over her front and then lean down to cup her cheek. “I’m gonna fix this. Just don’t move. Stay right here. I’m gonna fix this.”
I sprint out of the room and down the hall, hollering for Piper. Jogging down the stairs to the kitchen in search of first aid supplies, the sick feeling deep in my gut persists, like this little accident is some kind of sign. Like an omen that comes around to remind you that, no matter how good you think you’ve got it, you’re one false move from colliding with something terrible, dangerous, and violent.
Sixteen
Ava
“Areyousureshe don’t need stitches?” Lucky asks for the third time while Piper cleans up my back. We’ve moved up to his room, which is a massive and luxurious master suite that takes up nearly the entire third floor, while Meyer and a couple of the other men in the house are downstairs dealing with the aftermath of the broken mirror.
The entire Jazz Manor is now aware of the huge mess in my room caused by Lucky and me having sex on a dresser, and I should be mortified. But then again, all of my fucks dried up with the second lockdown extension, so I couldn’t care less.
Lucky’s on the opposite side of the room, pacing furiously while he chain-smokes and slides worried glances at me. He’s still dressed in the same slacks, vest, and dress shirt, which I ruined earlier by ripping off the buttons mid-orgasm, but he’s removed his tie. It’s probably because we just had sex, but he looks hotter than ever.
Piper has me lying flat on my stomach, topless, while she carefully extracts the tiny pieces of glass and cleans my cuts. Pearl is seated next to her, holding a small LED flashlight.
“I swear she don’t need stitches, Luck,” Piper says, pouring cold liquid on a spot just below my shoulder blade and then poking at it with something small and hard. I wince and suck in a hiss through my teeth. “This ain’t much different than gettin’ a little piece of glass in your foot, ‘cept that there’s about a hundred little pieces.”
Lucky is eyeing me with unblinking blue eyes while he paces and drags on the cigarette. “I could take her to the ER just so they could make sure she’s not gonna—”
“She don’t need to go to the ER for this, Luck,” Piper retorts. “The ER is way more dangerous right now than these tiny, little cuts. Everybody with that virus is going to the ER.” She tsks and pokes at another spot. “You’ve seen how bad this stuff is in New York right now, and it’s almost that bad here.” She stops poking, and in my periphery, I see her gesture at him with tweezers. “It’s all them people who came for Mardi Gras. They came from all over the world and brought that virus with them.” She tsksagain and goes back to poking. “It’s a wonder none of us are sick. ‘Specially with us being on tour like we were.”
Lucky holds the cigarette at the side of his thigh, anxiously wagging it for a second before he marches across the room and leans over me to peer at my back. “What about those two? They look pretty friggin’ deep.”
“Do ya trust me or not?” Piper waves her hand. “If you really wanna be helpful, you’ll put out that damn cig while I’m tryin’ to clean her up. At least go out on the damn terrace or somethin’.”
Lucky immediately marches away and disappears onto the terrace, returning a moment later without the cigarette.
“Go wash your hands, too, Luck,” Piper adds. “‘Specially if you want to touch her at any point.”
He pivots and marches to the en suite bathroom, and then I hear the sound of the faucet running.
Piper and Pearl snicker quietly.
“Where did you learn to do this, honey?” Pearl asks.
“Well, in my former life prior to being part of the entourage, I was actually a veterinary technician. So I got to help with lotsa sweet, little animals, and I learned a lot about patching things up.” She pauses and then speaks a little louder. “So, if Ava actually neededstitches, I’d be able to do that. But she don’t. She just needs bandaids.”
“Oh my heavens.” Pearl laughs with delight. “Aren’t you just so amazing?”
Piper coos quietly. “I sure do love you, Pearl.”
“I love you, too, honey.”
There’s a pause, and I nestle my cheek into the mattress, attempting to relax despite the stinging pokes and burning cold liquid. My gaze drifts back to Lucky, who’s pacing again, intermittently rubbing the scruff on his jaw and raking back his onyx hair while he carefully watches Piper’s work.
Pearl breaks the brief silence with another light laugh. “Lucky, you’re reminding me of my late husband during the births of all three of our babies.” She laughs again. “You’re acting like a nervous father-to-be with all this anxious stomping around the room.”
“Yeah, well.” He hitches his shoulders and rakes his hair back again. “This is my stupid-ass fault, so I—”
“It was anaccident, Lucky,” I chime in, lifting my hand off the bed in a dismissive wave. “Just let it go.”
He tilts his head as he pauses, looking at me down his nose and through unblinking blue eyes, and his jaw pulses repeatedly. “I was tryingto do something nice for you, Ava doll. And look at this mess.” He gestures in disgust with an upturned palm. “You look like Jesus Christ after Pontius Pilate was through with him.”
I scoff, waving my hand again. “Itwasnice.”
