That wasn’t the apology I wanted, and I’m sure he knew that. Saying nothing else, I moved around him toward the closet, opening the door and taking out the big first aid kit he’d given me as a house-warming present when I moved in here. His excuse was that I would need it because I often cut my damn hands on the parts I was working on or…attempting to cook. “How symbolic of you to buy a present for me that only you end up using.”
“I’m hurt, Helen, be nice.” He pouted when I came back to him. Kneeling in front of him, I unzipped everything carefully, and as I did, a thought popped into my head.
“You didn’t shoot yourself on purpose to make me sympathetic to you? Did you?”
He huffed as if he was hurt I even asked. Tilting his face to the side, he gave me a look I was quite familiar with. “Yes, Helen, I was so upset you weren’t answering my calls that I shot myself in the shoulder in the middle of the night, bought your favorite burger, and came over to get you to help take the bullet out. Seriously? Do I look like Ethan to you? Like hell, I’d shoot myself.”
“Stranger things have happened,” I muttered, putting on the gloves before taking out the forceps and the alcohol. “Lie back.”
“Do you know what you’re doing?” He questioned, surprised.
“I’ve watched enough episodes of ER and Grey’s Anatomy—”
“Give me that!” He moved to take the forceps.
“Kidding! Just kidding,” I said, pushing him back on my own.
He grimaced before yelling. “Fucking shit!”
“So being shot hurts, who would have guessed.” I pressed gently on the wound around his upper shoulder.
“Your sarcasm has been noted, Helen,” he grumbled, closing his eyes, and I wished I could do the same. If only he knew that sarcasm was the only thing keeping me from staring at his perfectly sculpted body. It was marble. I wanted…dreamt of running my hands over it a dozen times and of course here was my chance, but it was because of bullets and blood.
“This is going to hurt. You sure you don’t want anything for the pain?”
“I’m already buzzed, go ahead,” he said softly and put his arm over his face and inhaled, though he stopped because of the pain.
“Okay.”
“URGH!” He hissed through clenched teeth as I poured alcohol over the wound.
“What happened?” I questioned, pressing my hands on his skin, again hoping to distract him.
“The Governor got a little emotional when I told him I had his wife killed.”
My head snapped up like a rocket, only he hadn’t shifted. I sighed, shaking my head. “Brilliant, now I’m going to be stuck working on the winter ball with Fatimah Gupta—”
“She’s most likely dead, too—ah fuck-Jesus-cunt-damn careful, Helen!” He looked at me as I tried to dig the bullet out.
“So you killed the governor’s and the mayor’s wives tonight, that won’t be a mess at all,” I muttered, though internally I was happy as I got a good grip on the bullet. It wasn’t too deep, and the bullet wasn’t strong…nor did it shatter. For a man with no luck, he sure had some fucking luck.
“I found out that the Chicago PD stole product from us. Those assholes only have those positions because we gave them the positions. In return for that power, they protect our interests. If they fail, they have to be punished.”
“That makes sense,” I said as I leaned in closer. “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t wear a bulletproof vest, at least when going around seeking vengeance.”
He didn’t answer that question and instead asked a question of his own. “Ethan wouldn’t have made such a dumb ass mistake, would he?”
Taking the bullet out, I glanced back up to him. “I will never understand why you and Ethan have this damned complex with each other.”
“What?”
“It’s out. What else do I need to do?” I asked, putting the bullet to the side on one of the open plastic seals near the first aid kit.
“I got this part.” He said sat up, pressing a bandage to his shoulder. “What do you mean? Ethan doesn’t have a complex toward—”
“Are you insane?” He really didn’t see it…what am I talking about? Wyatt was the king of obvious. “Wyatt, he let himself get shot, let Boston spiral into chaos because of you. He did that because—”
“He wanted me home. I get that. Everyone wanted me home. Even you.”