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Authors: Selina Fenech
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bleeding again.
Dean spoke, his voice low. “You going okay? You’re turning all kinds of green.”
I nodded but didn’t open my mouth to reply, worried I might throw up.
I stood back up, away from the blood, and took a deep breath. I held up the bloody wash cloth. “You have another clean one?”
Dean told me where to look in the kitchen, and I cut the second in half as well to make some padding for the entry and exit spots. Then I started wrapping.
I could feel Dean’s eyes on me. I tried to focus on the bandaging.
“How about your cheek, how is it feeling?” His breath as he spoke tickled the fine hairs on my neck.
“What about my cheek?”
Dean lifted his uninjured arm to the left side of my face, but didn’t touch me. I placed a hand there myself and felt a sting. The first shot Jake fired. I remembered a pain on my cheek at the time, but then I saw the dead woman, and people started screaming and Jake kept pointing his gun… I’d completely forgotten about it. I noticed my hands shaking as I looped the bandage around Dean’s arm.
“Is it bad? How’s it look?”
“A thin line, just a graze I guess. Doesn’t look like it bled much. You were lucky.”
My first aid results looked pretty dismal when I’d done. I stuck the bandage closed with half a dozen adhesive band-aids. At least it didn’t seem to be bleeding through yet.
I sighed and tried to wipe blood from my hands with the already soiled cloth. “Yeah, well, we both must be lucky since we’re not dead. You should have just run. You wouldn’t have been shot at all. Why didn’t you run?”
Another shrug. No emotion I could read in his face or body language. He stood up and pulled a clean t-shirt from the drawers near the bed. He faced the other way as he put his shirt on in slow, careful movements. Muscles on his back shifted under the skin and I noticed how nice his body was. With the baggy clothes he wore I’d had no idea. I blushed, a mixture of embarrassment for staring and anger at my thoughts. How I’d stared so lustfully at the Empaths’ attractive bodies. Them and their work-out routines, creating those pretty shells.
“You work out?” I asked, sounding cattier than I ever meant to.
Dean finally had the shirt over his shoulders and let it drop loose to cover his chest. He turned back toward me, eyebrow raised. “I work . I do some cash in hand jobs for a construction company. Manual labor stuff.”
My thoughts were getting ragged. I was so angry at myself it overflowed onto Dean. I had no one to blame for my part but myself, but if Dean hadn’t been at the bank, maybe guns would never have come out. It would have been in and out. Easy pickings like Emma said. No one would have gotten shot. No one would have died.
“Why were you even at the bank? Were you following me?” I snapped.
Saying it aloud I knew how stupid it was. The bank wasn’t far from the mall and park, but we drove, and went around in circles for ages while I got my wig right. Dean could have walked to the bank in that time, but couldn’t have followed us in Donnie’s jeep.
Dean’s frown said just how dumb I’d been.
“The world doesn’t revolve around you. I don’t know where you’re from, but this is my town, that was my bank. I was in to cash my dad’s welfare check. I try and do it myself if I can so it doesn’t all go on… my dad.”
The shake in my hands had spread up my back, up my throat and my head shook as I tried to apologize, for everything.
Dean talked over me. “Who were those guys? What was the trigger happy fashion model talking about, about blockers and powers? Why was he set on shooting me? And don’t tell me it’s complicated.”
“They’re Empaths, like superheroes, but they weren’t superheroes, I just thought they were superheroes and that I was like them and I went with them but they weren’t, they were the bad guys, and you’re something else as well that does stuff to our super powers…” I kept
Dean spoke, his voice low. “You going okay? You’re turning all kinds of green.”
I nodded but didn’t open my mouth to reply, worried I might throw up.
I stood back up, away from the blood, and took a deep breath. I held up the bloody wash cloth. “You have another clean one?”
Dean told me where to look in the kitchen, and I cut the second in half as well to make some padding for the entry and exit spots. Then I started wrapping.
I could feel Dean’s eyes on me. I tried to focus on the bandaging.
“How about your cheek, how is it feeling?” His breath as he spoke tickled the fine hairs on my neck.
“What about my cheek?”
Dean lifted his uninjured arm to the left side of my face, but didn’t touch me. I placed a hand there myself and felt a sting. The first shot Jake fired. I remembered a pain on my cheek at the time, but then I saw the dead woman, and people started screaming and Jake kept pointing his gun… I’d completely forgotten about it. I noticed my hands shaking as I looped the bandage around Dean’s arm.
“Is it bad? How’s it look?”
“A thin line, just a graze I guess. Doesn’t look like it bled much. You were lucky.”
My first aid results looked pretty dismal when I’d done. I stuck the bandage closed with half a dozen adhesive band-aids. At least it didn’t seem to be bleeding through yet.
I sighed and tried to wipe blood from my hands with the already soiled cloth. “Yeah, well, we both must be lucky since we’re not dead. You should have just run. You wouldn’t have been shot at all. Why didn’t you run?”
Another shrug. No emotion I could read in his face or body language. He stood up and pulled a clean t-shirt from the drawers near the bed. He faced the other way as he put his shirt on in slow, careful movements. Muscles on his back shifted under the skin and I noticed how nice his body was. With the baggy clothes he wore I’d had no idea. I blushed, a mixture of embarrassment for staring and anger at my thoughts. How I’d stared so lustfully at the Empaths’ attractive bodies. Them and their work-out routines, creating those pretty shells.
“You work out?” I asked, sounding cattier than I ever meant to.
Dean finally had the shirt over his shoulders and let it drop loose to cover his chest. He turned back toward me, eyebrow raised. “I work . I do some cash in hand jobs for a construction company. Manual labor stuff.”
My thoughts were getting ragged. I was so angry at myself it overflowed onto Dean. I had no one to blame for my part but myself, but if Dean hadn’t been at the bank, maybe guns would never have come out. It would have been in and out. Easy pickings like Emma said. No one would have gotten shot. No one would have died.
“Why were you even at the bank? Were you following me?” I snapped.
Saying it aloud I knew how stupid it was. The bank wasn’t far from the mall and park, but we drove, and went around in circles for ages while I got my wig right. Dean could have walked to the bank in that time, but couldn’t have followed us in Donnie’s jeep.
Dean’s frown said just how dumb I’d been.
“The world doesn’t revolve around you. I don’t know where you’re from, but this is my town, that was my bank. I was in to cash my dad’s welfare check. I try and do it myself if I can so it doesn’t all go on… my dad.”
The shake in my hands had spread up my back, up my throat and my head shook as I tried to apologize, for everything.
Dean talked over me. “Who were those guys? What was the trigger happy fashion model talking about, about blockers and powers? Why was he set on shooting me? And don’t tell me it’s complicated.”
“They’re Empaths, like superheroes, but they weren’t superheroes, I just thought they were superheroes and that I was like them and I went with them but they weren’t, they were the bad guys, and you’re something else as well that does stuff to our super powers…” I kept
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