“Just get on with it,” I snarled.
She stabbed into my skin two more times before the raft hit a large wave and threw her into my lap with the needle nearly drilling a hole into my skull.
“Fucking hell!” I screamed, shoving her off of me. She was so light, I tossed her into the other side of the raft where she bounced against
the fabric wall.
“I’m sorry!” she screamed again.
“Holy shit, bitch!” I yelled. “You could have taken my fucking eye out!”
“I couldn’t help it!” she cried out. “I didn’t mean to!”
I spent a few seconds collecting myself. I knew she didn’t mean to, and sitting up on her knees like that wasn’t easy in a rocking raft. I groaned, rubbed the new spot of blood off my head, and lay down on my back. I looked to the other side of the raft where she was cringing from me.
“Fucking try again,” I demanded.
“No,” she said. “You aren’t going to call me names and then expect me to help you.”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me,” I growled. “My being alive is in your best interest. Helping me is just like saving yourself.”
“You aren’t going to die from a wound that small.” She scowled back at me. “I’m not that gullible.”
“I don’t give a shit if you are gullible or not,” I said. “Back in your little mansion at home, this cut isn’t dangerous. Out here without antibiotics available, it could be my death sentence. You want to risk my life and yours?”
She sat for a minute just looking at me, probably trying to decide if I was lying to her or not. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself back down, but it was too fucking hot to relax, and my head really ached now. Finally, she moved back over to me tentatively, like I was going to fucking bite her or something. She managed to finish after about four more stitches.
“I need something to cut the end of the thread.”
“I got it,” I said, pulling my jackknife out of its home in my belt. I reached up, felt for the thread, and quickly cut off the end. I kissed the flat part of the blade before sheathing it again.
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Um…kiss the knife?”
“It’s my lucky knife,” I mumbled.
“Why is it lucky?”
I sighed. This was shit I really didn’t want to discuss. Maybe if I gave her a little taste, she’d get the idea and stop asking.
“Because it sliced me open and I didn’t die. Seems lucky to me.”
She looked at me for a minute, and then her eyes flashed to my arm and back again.
“Is that the big scar on your back?”
I flinched.
“Yeah.”
“It’s from that knife?”
“Yeah.”
“How?”