by T. L. Haddix
He moved back and studied her face. “Hard enough that I should be concerned about other injuries?”
“No. Just get me out of here, please.”
“Okay, but this isn’t going to be fun.” Laying the flashlight on the shelf so that it pointed at her hair, he started the tricky process of working her loose. “Explain how this happened?”
“I was getting a camera for one of the techs, and there was a spider. I jumped, and here I am. Pretty stupid, huh?”
He shook his head, looking down at her with concern. “No. No more stupid than getting tangled in barbed wire trying to get away from a snake.”
“You did that?”
“No, my brother did. But I was there, and couldn’t do a damned thing to stop him.” Once he freed her hair from the net, he gathered it and carefully placed it across her far shoulder. Picking up the flashlight, he looked closer at what he’d uncovered. She felt as much as heard his indrawn breath.
“That good, huh?”
Taking a step back, he shrugged out of his coat. “It’s bad enough. I’m going to have to cut the net loose from the hooks, then get you somewhere to get them taken out.” He unclipped the utility knife from his belt and studied her face. “I’ll be as gentle as possible, but this is going to hurt. Are you sure you don’t want me to call for EMTs?”
“I’m sure. Let’s get this over with.”
“Okay, then. I want you to edge back a little, take some of the weight off the net and the hooks.” Hands on her shoulders, he steered her backward. “That’s good. The net’s secure, but I still have room to work.” He moved in close and started snipping.
Within a few cuts, she was able to move her head and neck again and, tired and hurting, she gave in to temptation and rested her head against his chest. “You’re so warm.” His movements stilled for a very brief moment, then resumed. After a minute, she said, “I need a distraction. How’d your meetings go?”
He shrugged. “They went. Marsha was less than pleased to see me. John… well, I think by the time I left, he was wishing I hadn’t shown up, either.”
“John Hudson? Beth and Jason’s uncle?”
“Mm-hmmm.” With a low curse, he looked down at her. “Good news. I’ve got all but two hooks loose from the net. Bad news. The last two are tangled and in deep. I need you to put your arms around me and hold on. Okay?”
She nodded, and taking care to avoid his gun and taser, did as he asked. When she had a good grip on the back of his shirt, she took in a couple deep breaths. “I’m ready. Do it.”
Moving quickly, he cut the last two hooks free from the net. “Done.”
Unable to prevent a small cry, she pressed her mouth against his shoulder, sagging into him with relief. He very carefully put his arms around her, supporting her until she’d regained her legs.
“How many hooks are there?” she asked as she pulled back.
“Six. Let’s get your coat, and I’ll drive you to the ER.”
She slid her arms into the coat, wearing it backwards, and shook her head with vehemence. “No. No ER. I hate hospitals.”
The look he sent her was incredulous. “Maria, you have six fish hooks embedded in your back. They have to come out. You’re probably going to need stitches, antibiotics, a tetanus shot. You need a doctor.”
Closing her eyes, she begged, “Can’t you do it? My condo is less than five minutes away, and I have a super-deluxe first aid kit there. I thought you were a medic in the Army. Please?”
Wyatt sighed. “What about tetanus?”
“I had a shot this past spring. If it’s too bad, I promise I’ll go to the hospital, but can we please try it my way first? I’m begging you. Don’t make me go to the ER.”
“Okay, but you will go to the hospital if I say you need to. Understood?” Locking the door to the warehouse, he set the alarm and guided her to his SUV. “I’ll drive. We’ll worry about your car later. It might be best if you get in the back and try to lie down or something.”
The drive to her condo was short, and once inside, she led him to the upstairs bathroom. “The emergency kit’s in the linen closet.”
As he got it out, he whistled. “You weren’t kidding about the super-deluxe model.” The kit was the size of a small suitcase. “I can call your mother, if you want.”
She snorted. “Lord, no. My mother is the last person I’d call.” When he sent her a questioning look, she explained, “Veronica wears a very convincing façade. Most of the world thinks she’s a caring, doting mother. Unless you’re male, she isn’t.”
Wyatt looked dumbstruck. “I never would have guessed that, and I’ve known her since high school.”
Maria gave a bitter laugh. “Oh, most people would think I’m insane for even suggesting it. Where do you want me?”
There was an awkward pause, and to her surprise, a faint flush spread across his cheeks. He cleared his throat. “You’re going to need to take off your shirt.”
She felt her own face glow with embarrassment. “Oh. I didn’t think about that. Give me a minute?”
“Of course. The bathroom has good light, so I’ll try to get the hooks out here. I’ll probably have you lay on the bed after I’ve gotten them out so I can clean and dress the wounds. If you point me toward some old towels, I’ll get that ready.”
“Sure. The ones on the bottom shelf are fine for that.”
He grabbed the towels and excused himself, and she closed the door. Despite the pain, one thought kept racing through her mind—Wyatt Dixon was in her home! Ever since her talks with Ethan and Stacy, she’d been thinking about what they’d said. She’d finally decided that she would just treat Wyatt the same way she always had, but perhaps add in a little teasing flirtation. More than once through the years, she’d had to bite her tongue to keep back a witty comeback at something Wyatt had said. Oh, she wasn’t planning on becoming a smart aleck, but she decided it wouldn’t hurt to let a little more of her personality come through in their interactions, at least in one-on-one settings. If something came from it, she’d know Ethan was right. If nothing came of it, she wouldn’t be risking her heart, her reputation, or her job. Making quick use of the facilities, she washed her hands and unbuttoned her blouse. She started to slide it off her shoulders, but it caught on the hooks, and she had to stop. “Well, hell.”
Very carefully, she gathered her hair and clipped it up out of the way, wincing when she encountered strands sticky with dried blood. The pain was growing, her entire back starting to feel as though it were on fire. With shaking hands, she took her robe down off the back of the door and, holding it to her front, opened the door to admit Wyatt.
“I need help with the shirt. It’s catching on the hooks.”
He stepped back inside the bathroom, a barstool from the kitchen in one hand. “Sit on this and lean over. Do you want a pillow for support?”
Cursing again, she tried to get comfortable while holding the robe to her chest, but it was nearly impossible. “I’m sorry. Yes, if you don’t mind. There’s an old pillow on the top shelf of the closet that will work.” He retrieved it, and she exchanged it for the robe.
Making use of the double sink, he opened the kit and laid out the tools he’d need. Sleeves rolled up, he washed his hands. “Last chance before I start. Are you sure you don’t want to go to the ER?”
She dropped her gaze, embarrassed and hurting. “If it’s that bad and you don’t think you can do it, I guess I don’t have a choice. I’d rather stay here, though.”
He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, the warm weight sending a shiver across her skin. “I can do it. I just hate that I’m going to have to hurt you.”
“I’d rather endure some pain than a trip to the hospital.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. Let’s get this shirt off.” Easing the fabric away from the hooks, he managed to get it off without causing additional pain. “Looks like three of the wounds are fairly superficial, two are deep, and one’s a yet-to-be-determined. That one’s going throug
h your bra, so you’ll have to take it off, too.”
With a quiet groan, she waved her hand in his direction. “Go ahead and unfasten it, please.” He hesitated, and she looked in the mirror, meeting his gaze. The flush had deepened, and she frowned. “What?”
“When I start cutting these out, you’re going to have to stretch out over the sink. You may expose your chest when you do that if you take off the bra.”
She looked down to where she held the pillow clenched against her breasts, and her mind raced. Of all the times for Ethan and Stacy’s words to come back to haunt her, it would be now. Without looking at him, she asked, “If you see my naked breasts, are you going to have the uncontrollable urge to ravish me?” Exasperated with herself, she shook her head, hurting too much to be embarrassed. “Never mind. I can’t believe I asked that. The pain’s addling my brain.”
Wyatt pursed his lips. “Not under these circumstances, anyhow. I think I can control myself.”
She blinked, surprised by his response, but a sharp twinge pulsed through her back before she could question him further. “Then let’s get these damned hooks out of me before they become permanently embedded or cause gangrene. Please?”
He grabbed another old towel out of the closet and draped it across her hips. “You have some iodine here. I’m going to use it to sterilize the field.” Donning a pair of gloves from the kit, he instructed her to lean over. “Ready?”
She nodded, wrapping her hands around the edge of the pillow, and he started removing the first two hooks. They came out quickly, with little resistance.
“The one in your bra is next. I’m going to unfasten the bra and cut the portion with the hook in it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” As he worked, she felt sweat beading on her face, and she swallowed against the nausea that threatened to rise. “Can you talk to me, please? I’m not feeling so great.”
“Okay. What about?”
She hesitated. “Tell me how your appointments went.”
He laughed, but with no humor in the sound. “Well, Marsha was less than receptive. I haven’t talked to her since Julie died, and our conversation was strained, to say the least.”
“How did you approach the subject with her?”
“I told her the truth. I explained about the letter, what it said, and what I suspected she’d done. Take a deep breath for me, then let it out.” When she exhaled, he made the cut that would release the third hook. Within seconds, he dropped the rusty hook onto the gauze pad with the first two.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. It’s hardly been worse than a strong pinch so far. So what did Marsha say?”
“She wanted to know why I hadn’t arrested her six years ago if I suspected her of assisting Julie’s suicide.”
Maria turned her head toward him. “Why didn’t you?”
He hesitated for a moment. “I don’t know. It just… I was grieving, in shock, and all I had was a gut feeling, nothing I could prove. I thought about all the hurt it would cause if I made the accusation…” With a self-deprecating laugh, he shook his head. “Who am I kidding? To be perfectly honest, I couldn’t bring myself to care one way or another. I wasn’t in a very good place mentally.”
“That’s understandable, Wyatt.”
He shrugged, placing a hand low on her back beside the next hook. “I suppose. This one is going to hurt more.”
“Go ahead.” She gasped as he made the cut that would free the next hook. “You weren’t kidding.”
Cursing viciously, he slid his hand up to her uninjured shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry. Just breathe through it.”
“How about giving me a minute before you do the next one?”
“Sure thing. Just tell me when you’re ready.”
The sharp burn slowly dissipated into a throbbing ache, and she exhaled slowly. “I’m ready. So was she able to help you?”
“I don’t know. She wouldn’t admit to having told anyone. Hell, she wouldn’t admit to anything. I’ve never been Marsha’s favorite person, even before Julie died.”
“Why not?”
He carefully removed the next hook, then dabbed the area around the wound with a piece of gauze. “She blames me for Julie not having been happy the last few years of her life.”
Maria snorted. “I’m sorry, but that’s ridiculous. Julie was an adult. She was responsible for her own happiness. We all are. If we’re miserable with who and what we are, it’s up to us to change things.”
“True, but I wasn’t a great husband.”
She rolled her eyes, not believing that for an instant. “Did you abuse her in any way? Beat her, belittle her? Try to tear her down or keep her isolated from her friends and family?”
“God, no! She was independent, stubborn. She’d have had my head on a platter if I’d tried anything like that, even if I were the kind of man who gets his kicks from abuse. I just… we grew apart the last few years, and I guess I didn’t fight hard enough to remedy that.”
“And how hard did she fight for your marriage?” Maria asked.
Wyatt shrugged. “I don’t know. Not hard enough, I guess.”
Very carefully, she moved her hand to cover his where it rested on the counter. “Don’t you think it’s time you forgave yourself for something you didn’t do?”
He stared at her for a long moment. Swallowing, he cleared his throat. “We’d better get this last hook out.”
Cursing herself for going too far, she held up her hand and stopped him. “I’m sorry if I offended you. That wasn’t my intention.”
“I’m not offended.” He started working at freeing the deepest hook. “I guess I’m a little surprised. I haven’t spoken so bluntly to anyone else about my marriage before. It’s… not easy to bring all that up again now.”
“I imagine not.”
Taking a deep breath, he grimaced. “This hook is in pretty deep. I don’t know if I can get it out with making a good-sized cut. I’ll try, but it’s going to be rough.”
“Do I need to get something to bite down on?” When he hesitated, she gave him a strained smile. “I’m kidding. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded, and turned her face down into the pillow. Wyatt started working out the last hook, but when she whimpered, he stopped. “No, finish it. Please.”
With a few more cuts, the hook was out. He tossed the scalpel he’d been using down on the counter with the hook and braced his bloody hands on its surface. After a brief minute, he started gently dabbing at the last cut with a gauze pad. “I don’t think you’re going to need stitches, but irrigating these wounds thoroughly is going to be the key for preventing infection.”
She nodded, unable to speak, and he hunkered down beside her, stripping off the gloves. “Talk to me. Are you okay?” He turned her face toward him, and when he saw her tears, he cursed, his voice soft. Rising, he moved to the closet for a washcloth and dampened it in the other sink. “Here, let’s wash your face.” As he brushed the cloth across her face, his touch was so gentle, it made her want to cry all over again.
Slowly, keeping the pillow clutched to her chest, she sat up.
“Maria…”
With a hand that trembled, she reached out and touched his face, then wrapped her hand around one of his. “Thank you.”
Almost as if he were unable to stop himself, he held the back of her hand to his face, then stood. “We need to get those wounds irrigated before they close up too much.”
She eased herself to her feet. “I’ve got blood in my hair. Think I’d be okay to take a quick shower?”
He considered her wounds. “Probably. It’s—”
“Gonna hurt. I know.”
“Are you going to be able to stand on your own that long? You’re pale as a ghost.”
Taking a tentative step, she wobbled and let go of the pillow to clutch at the counter.
“Steady.” Wyatt grasped her upper arms. “Why don’t you wait on the shower?”
“Put your arms around my neck. I’m going to carry you to the bed.”
“No! You’ll break your back. I’m way too heavy for you to carry.”
He grinned. “A puny little thing like you? Nah. Arms, neck. That’s an order.”
Rolling her eyes, she slid her right arm around his shoulders as he bent and lifted her into his arms. With one of his arms carefully across her back, the other under her knees, Maria was amazed when he didn’t stagger as he walked to the bedroom and gently placed her on the bed.
“See? Told you.” His grin was boyish. “That put some color back into your cheeks, anyhow.” Grabbing an extra towel from the foot of the bed, he handed it to her. “Lay on your stomach, and I’ll get started on those.”
Moving awkwardly as she tried to keep the towel in place over her chest with one arm, she struggled to get onto her stomach. Giving up, she let the towel drop. “You’ve already seen the girls, anyhow. Just consider this a bonus round.” Both hands free, she was face down in seconds, and heard Wyatt choking back laughter.
“No, go ahead and laugh,” she said. “I’m sure someday, if I ever decide to tell anyone else about this, it’ll be funny.”
“I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.” As if to punctuate that statement, his stomach growled noisily.
Maria turned her head to look at him, and when she saw that his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, it was her turn to chuckle. “After we’re done, I’ll feed you if you don’t mind spending a little more time in my company. It just so happens that I have a full pot of homemade soup in the fridge, and sandwich fixings. It isn’t fancy, but it’s exceptionally good soup.” She was gratified to see his mouth move into the hint of a smile.
“Exceptional, huh? I might have to stick around and see for myself.”
She rested her head on her arms as he started working. “I don’t cook very many things, but what I do make, I make well. After everything you’ve done here, the least I can do is give you a meal.”
“Well, if you put it that way, I guess I’ll let you twist my arm.”
Despite the pain, she wanted to dance. Hiding her face in her arms, she settled for a smile.