Another voice speaks, catching at my focus for a second. Sophia. My hands involuntarily twitch, my fingers curling inwards, as though reaching for the idea of her. “What…what should I do?” she asks.
I can’t see her, but I can sense her close. “Hold this,” Cade tells her. I can’t see what he hands her. She’s standing behind me, breathing quickly, like she’s hyperventilating. Pain bites through me, a sudden, sharp reminder of how shitty it is when your nerve endings actually decide to work in situations like this. Carefully, slowly, I look down, struggling to focus my eyes on what’s happening to my chest. Cade is quickly, efficiently stitching me back together, my skin tugging and pulling as he forcefully shoves the needle in and out of my skin.
“Any…internal…?” I manage.
“No. No, your insides are just fine, you lucky son of a bitch, now hold still.”
I hold still, grinding my teeth together as I’m put back together. I manage to stay awake until the very final stitch is tied off, and then I pass the fuck out.
I could be out for hours, but I get the feeling it’s more like fifteen minutes. When I regain consciousness, Cade is standing over me, glaring grimly at me while he wipes his hands on one of my bathroom towels, and Sophia is sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing next to nothing. If I had any blood left in my body, I’m sure it would be headed straight for my dick right now. As it goes, I roll over slowly and throw up over the side of the bed.
“Nice,” Cade observes. “Real fucking nice.”
“Fuck you, man.” It sounds like I’ve been eating gravel. My head is splitting apart. I fall back onto the pillows, my stomach rolling again, making empty threats. There can’t be anything left inside me to bring back up by now. Sophia grimaces at the mess I’ve made; she gets to her feet and heads for the kitchen bench, rifling under the counters, presumably looking for cleaning products.
“Don’t. You don’t have to do that,” I say, wincing.
Cade lifts an eyebrow, shaking his head. “Sure she does, man. I’m gonna sit here and let you steal half my plasma. I ain’t gonna clean up your puke, too.”
“Then deal with it,” I growl. “She shouldn’t have to—”
“I don’t mind. I don’t want to sit here looking at it, either.” Soph drops to her knees and starts mopping up my vomit, which makes me feel about three fucking inches tall. While she’s doing that, Cade sets up for the blood transfusion. He must have gone back to the clubhouse and grabbed the tourniquets, lines and needles while I was briefly out for the count.
I lay on my back with my arm thrown up over my eyes while Cade efficiently hooks us up and begins the process. It’s such a strange feeling, having blood traveling into your body instead of out. I can hear Sophia throwing things into the trash. Can smell the disinfectant she’s scrubbing into the floorboards as Cade makes underhanded comments about how fucking stupid I am.
“And by the way,” he tells me. “I smoked a bunch of weed as soon as I walked through the door earlier. Don’t know if that shit affects your blood, but I sure hope it fucking does. It’ll serve you right if you get insanely high and pass out again. You’ve totally ruined my buzz.”
I consider trying to punch him, but just thinking of the effort that would involve exhausts me. I decide on a different tack. “Thanks, man.
“Don’t mention it.”
I lay there, thinking about the ridiculous shit I said to Soph before she went postal and tried to murder me. I should have kept my mouth shut. I’ve been completely thrown since we got back here, though. Ten days I stayed away, because me being around her is a bad idea. Actually, no. Before, back when Ramirez didn’t know exactly who I was and where my fucking family lived, it was a bad idea. Now he does know and he’s shown up on my front door step, it’s a fucking catastrophic idea. We should never have gotten involved the way we did back in Alabama. I should never have gone after her like that. What a fucking moronic thing to do.
Thirty minutes pass. I spend the entire time mentally kicking my own ass. Eventually, Cade removes the needle from the crook of my arm. “All right. We’re done. Here, take this,” Cade tells me. I lower my arm, eyeing the four white tablets in the palm of his hand with suspicion.
“What is it?”
“Azithromycin.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Carnie had the clap last month. Said it knocked it right on the head.” Cade grins as he says this, the motherfucker.
“Fantastic. Now I’m taking medication from Carnie’s dick infections.”
“I’ve given you some pretty sweet codeine in there too,” Cade informs me. You’re gonna feel really good in about twenty minutes.”