by Max Henry
The good with the bad.
The pretty with the ugly.
Steph slammed the door on the bad, and went in search of the good. Perhaps a bowl of ice cream with chocolate on top would help balance out this problem.
It was a worth a shot, right?
Trevor touched his thumbs to each finger on his hands in turn, bored out of his tree. They’d been in the ER for over two hours, and all that he’d been given so far was a neck brace, a bed to lie on, and some pain relief.
He tried telling the young doctor he didn’t need the pain meds, but the idiot wouldn’t listen. Apparently the guy knew best. What would the patient know, huh?
“Try and get some sleep while ya wait.” Pete spoke from the corner where he sat with his head leant back, and his eyes shut.
“Easier said than done when your wondering if you’ll ever walk again.”
“Positive thinkin’, brother.”
“Hasn’t got me anywhere so far,” he moaned.
The curtain shifted aside, and he caught sight of the top of a woman’s head as she read over his notes. About bloody time.
“Mr Dunstan?”
“That would be me,” he rumbled. Hopefully this bird would get something happening.
She stepped up to the side of his bed, and stilled as their eyes connected. Yep, something was happening all right. Apparently the blood flow to his groin was in perfect working order.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, snapping out of her daze.
“A little laid up.” He smiled.
Her cheeks coloured, and she quickly looked down to the notes with a forced frown.
Trevor ran his eye over the beauty beside him. Her brunette hair fell over her shoulders from the ponytail she kept it in. Olive skin accented the most stunning honey coloured eyes he’d ever seen, and her long lashes batted against her high cheekbones as she read over the same word time after time.
If this is what nurses in Australia looked like, he should have come here and done himself in sooner.
“On a scale of one to ten—one being none, and ten being unbearable—where is your pain at?”
“Two.”
“Okay.” She scribbled on the board. “I need to take your vitals, and then we’re going to shift you through to get a scan done.”
The poor girl was in for a shock when she took his heart rate. “Tell me where you want me.”
Her eyes flicked to his, and she cleared her throat. “Um, first I need your hand, I mean, your finger.” She ducked her head as a flush crept over the smooth skin at the neck of her uniform. “I’ll just clip this on here.”
He kept his eyes on her as she placed a monitor over his finger.
She looked to Pete, who watched her with a slight smirk. “Are you a friend?”
“Aye.”
Great. One whiff of his fucking accent and he’d have lost her. “I’m staying with him, and his girlfriend at the moment,” he quickly filled in.
Pete chuckled from his corner. The guy could count his lucky stars he sat out of arms reach.
“Oh, okay.” The nurse slipped the monitor from his finger, but her hand remained under his.
He swallowed the tension away, and willed his hand to relax.
“I have to take your blood pressure now, so I’ll need to roll your sleeve up if that’s okay?”
Say the word, and I’ll have the whole shirt off.
She struggled to connect the Velcro on the strap, the two ends not quite matching around the size of his arm.
“Wow. I haven’t had this much trouble in a while.”
Yeah, his ego swelled a little.
She pinned the Velcro together with her fingers, and pressed the button to start it inflating. He watched her concentration, the fine lines around her eyes as she read the numbers. She scribbled the answer on the notes, and pulled the strap from his arm.
“All good to go.” Her ponytail swung off her shoulder as she turned her head to Pete. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to return to the waiting room.”
“All good, Love.” Pete stood, and grinned at him. “Have fun, brother.”
He glared at the cheeky shit while he left the cubicle, and headed for the waiting area.
“He’s got a lot of tattoos, huh?”
He relaxed, and turned his head to look back at the angel beside him. “Yeah. You like tattoos?”
She nodded. “Don’t have any myself, but I love how they look when they’re done right.”
“You want one?”
She smiled, looking over from the corner of her eyes. “Yeah.”
“What would you get?”
Her shoulders bopped as she stashed the machine aside. “Not sure. I’ve got a few ideas.”
“Karla?” The idiot doctor from earlier poked his head around the curtain.
“Yeah?”
“When you’re done in here, can I get you to head to seven? There’s a little girl who scared of needles in there.”
“Sure thing.”
Karla. “Got a soft touch, have you?”
She laughed. “Yeah, I have a way with kids.”
Damn. If his bloody legs worked he might drop to one knee, there and then.
“One last test before I get the orderly to wheel you through.”
“Anything for you.” He winked, and she blushed for the third time. Going for the record.
Karla moved to his feet, and carefully removed his boots, placing them on the floor. She rolled his socks down, and placed them inside the boots.
“I need to check your pain threshold.”
“Bit much for a first date, isn’t it?”
She smiled, and gave him a playful tap on the calf. Her slender fingers pinched his big toe. “Can you feel that?”
He shook his head. He knew how this would pan out. They’d done the same test when he arrived, and he hadn’t felt a singular thing.
“What about now?” She moved to the next toe.
He shook his head again. She continued along his foot until she pinched his little toe.
“What about this one?”
Was that what he thought it was? “Do it again?”
She pinched his toe, a little harder. There was a definite reaction, muffled, but noticeable.
“Yeah,” he smiled. “I can feel it.”
“Great.” Karla held his foot between her hands, and smiled at him. Her eyes sparkled with pure joy for him.
Damn.
He may have fallen in love.
“How’s he doing?”
Pete drummed his fingers on his leg, irritated that the three of them were in such a predicament. “They’re takin’ him off to get a scan done, see what the damage is.”
“Is he … paralysed?”
“I don’t know. Fuck, I hope not.”
“Me either.”
Silence hung on the line. He knew what he wanted to say, but how would she take it?
“Love, whatever happens, I want him to stay with us.”
“I know. I understand,” Steph whispered.
“I just, I don’t want it to get in the way, ya know?”
“It won’t.”
How could she be so certain? Their relationship was so young. He still had so much he wanted to discover about her, and she had only scratched the surface of his past. How could having Trevor around—possibly fully dependant on them—not get in the way?
“I feel as though it’s on my shoulders; that if he hadn’t come back to help me, he wouldn’t be hurt.” Pete rubbed at the ache behind his eyes.
Steph chuckled. “What was that you told me about not overthinking things?”
“Love …”
“Love nothing. You’re doing the exact thing you tell me off for. So, stop it.”
He grinned. She’d called him out, big time. “Aye, and thankfully I have you there to point it out.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else. We’ve put up with more than most others would in a lifetime, Pete. I think we’ll be okay.”
/> We have to be. His heart couldn’t take another blow. Sure, he was cold and calculated when he needed to be, but it didn’t mean that things like his friends getting hurt didn’t bother him. He was human after all. To have sat next to Trevor, and have seen the man’s fear, then feel nothing would have been utterly … wrong.
“I’m gonna stick around until they find out what the issue is. Are you okay with that? How ya doin’ there?”
“Yeah,” Steph said on a sigh. “Not bad. I’ve got it to the hallway, so that’s a start.”
He smiled. “You do realize you’re talkin’ about him like a piece of furniture?”
“I guess I am,” she laughed. “Hey, maybe we could have him immortalized in resin, or something, and use him as a table.”
“Okay, now you’re disturbin’ me.”
Steph giggled on the other end of the call. He smiled at the sound, relishing the fact she was finally on her way back to happiness.
“What do you plan on doing once ya get him to the door?”
“Fucked if I know. I was only planning on dragging him to the garage so you can do something with him later. All I’m worried about now is making the spare bed.”
“It’s good, ya know.”
“What is?”
“That you’re feelin’ okay enough to make jokes about it.”
“Have to move on some time.”
“That ya do. I’ll talk to you later.”
***
Steph placed her phone on the counter, and stared at the black lump on the floor—a constant reminder that her life would never be the same. So what if Pete managed to get rid of the body, and they managed to live without anyone ever finding out? She still held the guilt that she was the one who’d done it. She had taken Derek’s last child from him.
Her hands shook uncontrollably, and she fumbled with the rope she’d tied around the middle of Ivan’s makeshift body bag. She’d discovered that pulling the body sideways was easier than lengthways. Probably something about less drag, but whatever, she wasn’t stopping to work out the physics of it.
She looped the rope around her wrist, and took hold of the top of the bag with her free hand. Sucking in a breath, she heaved him along the floor another few feet before stopping to get a better footing. Only a few more pulls, and he’d be at the internal door to the garage.
At that moment she would have spent her life savings if it meant being able to hire somebody to do the dirty work for her. But as Trevor had said about their predicament, she’d made her bed, now she had to lie in it. Steph wound the rope tight again, and took hold of the top of the bags. She held her breath, heaved, and landed flat on her ass … a mangled rubbish bag still clutched in her left hand.
Her heart sped as she slowly looked toward the body. Ivan’s head protruded from the wrapping, barely recognizable. Her stomach revolted, and she clamped a hand to her mouth. Too little, too late. Rolling to all fours, Steph heaved the contents of her stomach over the tiled floor of the living room.
Great. Something else to clean up.
The smell permeated her nostrils, and the second round of burning stomach acid rose. Feet sliding all over the place, she managed to propel herself toward the laundry door, hurling it wide open, and stepping out into the fresh air.
How the fuck did Pete, and Trevor do this?
One thing for sure, she wasn’t born to be a contract killer. She’d take her dull numbers, and equations any day, thank you very much.
The mere act of looking in the direction of the mess in her house had her gut clenching, and not in a good way. She slid the door shut, and slumped down against the bricks of the house. If she wanted to move that damn thing before the boys got back, she had a bit of psyching up to do first.
Never, ever, doing this again.
***
Pete startled from his sleep, and gripped the wrist of a frightened looking nurse.
“Uh, excuse me, but your friend would like to see you.”
He released her arm, and smiled in apology. “Sorry, darl. You took me by surprise.
“You and me both,” she mumbled as she turned to lead him through to the wards. “This way.”
He followed her down sterile hallways, and past buzzing monitors until they came to a dark room opposite the nurse’s station. She opened the door and gestured him inside.
The door closed, and he hesitated to let his eyes adjust to his surroundings. “You a bloody vampire now?”
The bedside light clicked on, illuminating the small, private room. “Just been resting.”
Trevor sat propped up by pillows, shirt removed, and with a lure protruding from his hand.
“So, what’s the verdict? Do I need to find you a gym with ramp access?”
The big guy chuckled, easing Pete’s nerves. If he had his humour, it couldn’t be that bad—could it?
“No gym for a while, brother.”
“You said ‘a while’, so does that mean …”
“Yep. No permanent damage. I herniated a disc when I fell, and the pain was it pinching my spinal cord. When I tried to lift the parcel, it caused inflammation, which pinched it further and caused temporary paralysis.”
“Jesus.”
“Pretty lucky from what they tell me.”
“So?” Pete gestured to Trevor’s legs in a sweeping motion.
“Check this out.” He wiggled his toes, a stupid grin on his face.
“Thank fuck for that. Steph will be relieved.”
“How’s she getting on?”
“Managing.” He looked to the floor—his elation at Trevor’s news killed by the thought of the problem at home.
“You don’t sound so convinced, Son?”
Pete shrugged his head to one side. “You know women are; try to do everythin’ themselves.”
“That they do.” Trevor chuckled. “I’ll be here overnight while they make observations, so you may as well go home.”
“Shit, I don’t know what the time is.”
“A little after three.”
Pete lifted his gaze to the sunlight trying to get around the blackout curtains. “In the afternoon?”
“Uh, huh.”
Damn, he must have been jet-lagged. “I’ve got to call Steph, tell her how ya are.”
“All good, brother. Leave me your number so I can get Karla to call you when I’m ready to go.”
“Karla?” He quirked an eyebrow at the sheepish look on Trevor’s face.
“Yeah, the nurse.”
“First name basis, already?”
“First name, and phone number.”
He shook his head, and laughed at the mug. Always had a way with the women. “You’ll find one worth keepin’ one day.”
Trevor winked, and shifted his gaze over Pete’s shoulder. Pete turned, and saw the brunette nurse from the ER behind him.
“Hi, again,” she greeted.
“Afternoon, Karla.”
Her gaze flitted between the two of them. “Trev, it’s time for your obs.”
He spun around, and smirked. “Trev?”
“Piss off, would you?” The big guy waved him off, and straightened in his bed.
He walked out of the room, laughing to himself. How things could change in twenty-four hours. Just wait until he told Steph this one.
Steph.
His pace increased as he headed for the bank of elevators, and pulled his phone from his pocket. He swiped through to her number and hit dial.
“Hey.”
“I’m on me way home.”
She sighed. “Babe, I’m at work.”
“Couldn’t you take the day off?”
“I had several off already.”
Pete growled, and clenched the phone in his fist. Not today. He wanted her close. They’d spent enough time apart to last a lifetime.
“How’s the parcel? Ready for me to post?”
“Yeah. It’s in the garage. I left a key tucked under the wheelie bin for you.” She sighed again. “Baby, it’s only two h
ours until knock-off. I miss you like crazy, but I’ll have to see you then.”
“Fair enough, Love. Talk to you later.”
He hung up the phone as the elevator reached the car park, and headed for the flashing lights of the rod. Her tone had been curt, short, and resigned. To what though? Was she mad that he’d left her no sooner than they’d got home? Angry that he left her alone to go and care for Trevor?
Fuck, this emotional shit did his head in. Every time he thought he had the logistics of caring for people other than himself nutted out, it all shifted again.
He opened the door to the rod, and fell into the driver’s seat, his left hand fishing the regular spot for smokes.
Shit.
Pete gunned the V8 to life, and drove out of the parking building. No time for crying about things he couldn’t change—he had some cleaning to do before his girl got home.
Water, soap, copious amounts of scrubbing—nothing washed the feeling of death from her hands. Walking the length of the office to head for the ladies was a lot like a gauntlet. Steph could swear that at least two of the other accountants had given her a double take.
She turned before the mirror and ran her eye over the fabric of her dress. Perhaps there was a spot she’d missed? Somewhere she’d brushed up against blood, or dirt? The sane part of her mind beat against glass walls at her paranoia, which merely looked on with disinterest. Once again, the devil on her shoulder won out.
She sighed, and walked away from the mirror, irritated that she could fall so easily into old habits. Why would anyone know what she’d done that morning? It wasn’t as though she had an inter-office memo sent out.
“What up, Steph?”
Heart hammering, she clutched at her chest. “Jesus, Marcus. You scared the shit out of me.”
“Living in your head will do that to you.”
“I wasn’t in my head.” She frowned at him.
He raised an eyebrow. And ticked his points off on his fingers. “Vacant stare, check. Constant frown, check. Skittish nerves, check. So, are you going to tell me what’s up?”
She shrugged. “Nothing major.”
“Looks major to me. Not quite twenty-four hours ago you were bouncing off the walls, ready to go get your man. So what changed?”