I stared at him. “Like with your face?”
He offered me a lopsided grin. “I’m not very good at making friends.”
I carefully rested the ice pack against his ribs, and set a cushion alongside it, so it would stay without him having to try and hold it there.
“Okay, so I’m going to make a drink. What do you want?” He grinned at me.
“Scotch.” Men.
“What pain relief are you on?”
He groaned. “Fucking paracetamol, and anti-inflammatories.”
“Not strong stuff?” He shook his head. “I wish.” I got up to follow his instructions to find the scotch, and a glass. Along the way I removed my coat, and retrieved my bag. Using my phone I googled the nearest chemist, pleased to find there was a local group of shops within walking distance.
I brought the drink to him and pressed it into his hand. “Are your ribs broken, or cracked, or anything?”
He winced as he tried to move. “Cracked, but not out of alignment or some shit. No punctured lung this time.”
I groaned, because he was clearly going to be hard work. I crouched down, and slid his boots off his feet, setting them aside. Next I went in search of a blanket and found a fleece throw, like a picnic blanket, and brought that back to drape over him, leaving his arms free.
“I’m going to the chemist down the road, to get you something stronger. You can’t manage with paracetamol. I googled your injury while I was getting the blanket. You’d be better with something strong.”
He tried protesting, but I waved it off. “Let me do this for you. Rest. Here’s the TV remote. Do the man thing. Sit and surf channels. I won’t be long.” I found his keys, and let myself out, heading down the road for the local chemist.
**********
ADAM
She came looking for me! She actually came to my house. And what perfect fucking timing. I needed her. Not in the same way as before, but I needed help. That bastard Seb had done a real number on me. With a few strikes, he’d effectively laid me out. Put me out of commission. And Marco had the nerve to say I’m one of them. Bullshit.
I still didn’t like how much money they’d put in my account. There was no reason to pay that much for what I was doing. It made me feel like they’d placed even heavier ownership over me. I had to find a way to put some of it back. Not that they didn’t owe me for fucking insult and injury at this point!
I didn’t bother with the TV. I kept my phone handy, and drank the scotch, which was really cheap shit, and not worth wasting my time on.
Hearing a key in the door, and knowing that it was Julie letting herself back in, was just beautiful. Like it was meant to be. It was. I wanted her here always. Even if we were struggling with trust issues. I hoped Cass would call her soon, and help her through whatever her emotional issues were, so that she’d be able to trust me too.
“I’m back.” She called, placing something down in the kitchen, before she came back to me with a paper bag from the chemist.
“I had to get you co-codamol. I know you’ve taken it before, but of course I just gave you a bloody drink, so I messed up. I’m so sorry.”
I grabbed her dainty hands, holding them in mine, while I tried to ignore the pain that movement just caused.
“You didn’t mess up anything, little angel. I’ll take them. It’ll be fine. When I had some at your place, I’d had several glasses of scotch beforehand.”
She literally rolled her eyes at me. “Men.”
I grinned at her. “I can take more pills at about three thirty or something.” Another eye roll.
“That’s specific.”
“Sorry, I was pretty out of it, what with having had some bastard kick my ribs in.”
“Kick? He kicked you? Oh god, I thought it was a punch?”
Nice. “So a punch is okay?”
She looked horrified. “No, but now I’m picturing you on the ground, with some psycho kicking you.” Pretty accurate, actually.