She pounded her fist on a wooden door, but no one answered. She knocked again, louder this time. “C’mon, you bastard.”
The door finally opened revealing a sleep-disheveled man that Garrett recognized.
“Arthur!” Bridgette said as she put on her most charming grin. “I’m sorry to wake you, but I need a room for the night.”
The innkeeper looked at her in shock. “What do you think you’re doing? It’s the middle of the godsforsaken night!” His eyes traveled to Garrett before they widened. “Is that beastbleeding?”
Bridgette’s thin patience snapped. She reached up and grabbed the collar of the man’s nightshirt before pulling him close. “Yes. And you’re going to give us a room, or I’m going to tell your wife that you aren’t out playing cards every Tuesday night,” she hissed before releasing him. Arthur staggered back, looking struck.
“I will pay you,” Bridgette said and reached into the stuffed purse she held to fish out a few coins. She pushed them into his hand. “And I need hot water and some towels, please.”
Arthur stared, slack-jawed, and Garrett almost laughed. After a moment’s silent contemplation, the innkeeper didn’t seem to know what else to do but let them in. Garrett limped alongside Bridgette as they followed the man up to an empty room on the second floor.
Arthur lit the lamps for them before saying, “Give me a moment, and I’ll be back with the water.”
“Thank you, Arthur,” Bridgette said, her voice gentling now that she had cowed him into submission. She helped Garrett onto the bed but didn’t let him lay down until she’d stripped his ruined shirt off and pressed it against the sluggishly bleeding wound on his side. He hissed in pain as he fell back onto the quilt.
“Oh gods, Garrett,” she said as she finally got a good look at him. “What the hell happened?”
“Edmund,” he croaked. “Him and a few of his friends caught up to me on my way to Monika’s.”
Bridgette’s face darkened with fury, but her fingers were gentle as she touched his face, feeling around his bruises. “Fucking coward.” Her anger faded to concern as she looked at him. “I don’t feel anything broken. How are your ribs? They’re bruised to hell and back.”
Garrett gave a small laugh and immediately regretted it. “Feels like you’ve half-carried me out of death’s doorway, but I don’t think they broke anything but skin and spirit.” He swallowed before adding, “They took every coin I had.”
“Don’t worry about that,” she said gently, but they were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. Bridgette got up to open it and accepted the steaming bowl of water, mug and towels from Arthur before closing the door firmly in his curious face.
Carefully, she set the bowl down on the table beside the bed. She scooped out a steaming mugful that she set aside before she started to rummage through her pack. It was stuffed to bursting and obviously packed in a hurry. As she dug, clothes spilled out as well as a few more jangling coin purses. Finally, she pulled a little jar free before putting a hefty pinch into the mug.
She let it steep for a moment as she gathered a few more things from her pack before she lifted the mug to his lips. “Here. Drink. It’ll help with the pain.”
Garrett did as told but nearly choked at the bitter taste of willow bark. “Gods, Monika was right. That tastes like shit.”
Bridgette snorted. “But at least you have the sense to know that it’ll help.”
“That I do,” Garrett said even as he lifted one aching arm to take the mug from her. “Who taught you herbs?”
Bridgette carefully peeled away the bloodied shirt from the gash on his side. “When you have painful bleedings every month, you pick up some tricks.” She winced as she saw the fully uncovered wound. “I need to tend to this.”
Garrett tried to glance down to see how bad it was, but every pain seemed to flare to life as he lifted his head. He let his head fall back against the bed with a groan. “What are you going to do?”
Bridgette held up the round of catgut and slender silver needle she’d fished from her pack. “It’s deep. I need to stitch it closed.” At his look, she scowled. “You’ve seen how girls can get hurt in my line of work. I’m not as squeamish as you seem to think I am.”
“No! It’s not that at all,” Garrett said as he peered at her curiously. “I just… realize how much I still don’t know about you.”
Bridgette’s face softened to a smile before she looked away, pulling a length of catgut free. “After all the trouble I’ve caused you, I’m surprised that you care to learn more.”
Garrett reached out to stop her busy hands. “Of course I do. Bri… you’re the only friend I have.” His heart stuttered as he realized what he’d just said. “But I understand if you don’t feel the same.”
Bridgette scowled. “What are you talking about?”
Garrett couldn’t meet her eye as he lifted his hand, showing her the note he’d kept hold of through everything. It was stained with his blood, the charcoal smeared so that the neat, curling writing was nearly indecipherable. Bridgette took it from him, looking even more perplexed. Then understanding struck.
“Oh, gods. You can’t read common, can you?” Heat rushed to his face, but Bridgette’s hand cupped his cheek and made him look up at her. “What do you think this says, Garrett?”
Unexpectedly, tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. Garrett tried to fight them back, but a couple spilled down his battered face all the same. “I-I thought you had woken up with the beast who had ruined your future and realized that you never wanted to see me again.”
Bridgette looked at him with pity, her thumb brushing under his swollen eye. She held the note up with her free hand before she started reading. “‘Thank you for bringing me somewhere safe. Thank you for understanding. I’m sorry to leave so early, but I want to get back before Monika wakes up. I’ll see you tonight.’” She smiled at him as she finished, “’Love, Bri.’”
