“You sound like a porn director at a casting call,” Farrah mumbled, making Molly huff a laugh, a lopsided grin pulling at her lips.
“You didn’t make the cut, get out,” Amy said to Farrah in amusement. Then her face fell as she saw Molly’s arm.
“It’s broken,” Molly explained. “I can tell.”
“I broke mine in the same place, once,” my mom murmured in commiseration, making Farrah stiffen. “Hurts like a bitch.”
“It’s pretty numb now, unless I move it,” Molly replied.
“We’ll need to cut that shirt off,” Trix finally said from the corner. “Gimme your knife, Will.”
“I’ll do it,” I barked. I didn’t know why I said it.
“William,” my mom started to say before Molly cut her off.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, her voice small. “Will can do it.”
I turned to Molly and met her swollen eyes, my throat going tight. She didn’t know these women. She’d only met Trix a couple times, and she hadn’t been around my mom for any length of time since we were kids. She didn’t know that Amy would know best how to help her. She didn’t know that Farrah was all sharp edges but was the softest hearted of the bunch. She didn’t know that my mom would baby her, and Trix wouldn’t really know how to help but she’d be there, willing to pitch in however she could.
She only knew me.
“You got Reb?” I asked Farrah as I pulled my knife out of the pocket of my jeans.
“Yeah,” she said, slowly moving Reb to her lap. When Rebel didn’t protest, Farrah shot me a thumbs up.
“I’m sorry,” Molly said as I flicked the blade open. “I’d hold her but my arm is—”
“Can’t hold her when Will’s takin’ off that shirt,” Amy said simply. “Let Farrah take care of her for a bit. She’ll stay right there next to you.”
I got to my knees in front of Molly and gingerly pulled the bottom of her scrub top away from her skin. I made the mistake of looking up at her face, and my hands began to shake.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She wasn’t supposed to look at me with mixture of fear and relief in her eyes. It was wrong. All of it was wrong.
“Should’ve just grabbed a pair of scissors,” Trix pointed out as I sliced through the shirt.
“Too late now,” I shot back, dropping my knife on the floor so I could rip the shirt open the rest of the way. I wasn’t getting anywhere close to Molly’s breasts with a knife, it didn’t matter how good I was with it. Being good with a knife meant I was good at cutting people, not good at not cutting them.
I pulled slowly and steadily until the shirt came completely apart, then stopped breathing.
“That’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” my mom said in relief.
“Me, either,” Amy said to Molly, stepping in beside me to help her pull the shirt down her arms. “But I’m sure it’s still painful as hell.”
“I’ll live,” Molly replied, her eyes swollen into slits by then. Her face was swelling quickly and she was swaying on the bed.
“Come on,” Amy said tenderly. As I got to my feet, Trix stepped forward and she and Amy helped Molly lay down on the bed.
“Will?” Molly called frantically.
“I’m right here, sugar,” I ground out, physically moving Trix out of my way so Molly could see me.
“Keep Reb, okay? Call Mel.”
“No problem,” I said easily, brushing her hair away from her face, being careful not to actually touch her skin. It looked like she’d been hit all over, and new spots seemed to be darkening into bruises the longer she was there.
I stepped back as Amy shouldered her way in front of me. She spoke softly, but I still heard her words loud and clear in the room.
“We need to take off those pants?”
“No,” Molly answered firmly.
I couldn’t see her face. I didn’t know if she didn’t want them to take the pants off because she didn’t want them to see her, or if there was no reason for them to come off. I gripped the back of my head as the muscles in my neck grew so taut I thought I’d choke. My mom’s hand landed softly on my back just as Amy breathed a sigh of relief.
“Good,” she said, clearing her throat. “That’s good.”
My entire body shuddered in relief.
“I’ll go get a washcloth and some towels,” my mom announced, patting my back. “We need to get you cleaned up before you head to the hospital.”
“The hospital?” I ground out as she moved around me.
“She’s got a broken arm, Will,” Farrah scoffed. “You know how to set a broken arm?”
“He’s not setting my arm,” Molly blurted from the bed. “No, baby. Reb, Mama’s arm has an owie, you can’t climb—”