Chapter 10: Poor Bandaging Equals Sleepover

Jase

I look up to find a frown on Carley's face while she examines the blood on her hand from where it was resting on my thigh.

My jeans are soaked in blood. In hindsight, I should have changed the bandage before coming over.

"It's nothing," I say now fully awake once again.

Her brow creases and she tuts me under her breath. "This too much blood to be 'nothing' Jase Orion Alto."

You know you're in trouble when someone addresses you by including your middle name.

"Let me look at your thigh," she huffs at me.

Her uncle is a doctor, and she takes after him, always bandaging us up. I haven't met the man, but she looks up to him.

'I wouldn't mind her being our team medic.'

I stand peeling my jeans off my legs until I'm standing in my boxer briefs and Kings of Death band tee.

Carley grabs the medical kit we keep hidden up here. She takes out bandaged scissors to remove the bloody bandage wrapped around my thigh.

With her kneeling in front of me, all I can think of is how good her mouth would feel around my hard dick.

"Jase this is deep," she says taking a long cotton swab and poking it through the small hole out to the other side.

The bullet made a clean exit last night. I disinfected and bandaged it the best I could. I couldn't go to the hospital; they ask too many questions. I could have called Doc Fox to come to bandage me up, but it seemed pointless to disturb him over a clean exit gunshot wound.

I let out a hiss of pain when she touches the tender flesh with the swab while removing it.

Her eyes meet mine. "Big baby. I barely touched you," she admonishes.

I tut at her. "Mouthy woman," I mutter under my breath through clenched teeth.

She pulls out some one-inch sterile packing gauze. "I'm going to pack this. It's going to hurt," she says with sadistic glee in her steel-blue eyes. This woman enjoys wound care far too much.

'She's perfect.'

"Do your worst, sweetheart," I chortle until she begins stuffing that damn hole.

'I know several other holes I prefer to stuff on her.'

When she is done, she tapes thick gauze over the hole before wrapping it in more gauze over the pad.

"There. All done," she stays with satisfaction. She stands with her hands on her hips. "Now, who shot you?"

I sit back down on the couch while she puts everything away and then rummages through her backpack.

"It happened last night," I sigh. Telling her the truth, just not the whole story.

"Okay. Fine. Tell me this then. Will that person be shooting anyone else in the future?" She asks worried if the person who shot me is going to attempt to finish the job.

"No, sweetheart, he won't be shooting anyone again," I say as she hands me six pain pills and a bottle of water from the top mini fridge.

"Okay," she says seeming to accept my words. "You're staying here right?" She asks me when I pick up my jeans. I'm trying to decide if I want to put them back on for the trip home or just drive home in my underwear.

"I wasn't planning on staying here, but I will if you want me to," I tell her. The house is lonely without Ransom anyway, so I don't care where I sleep.

She sits down beside me giving me this pleading look. "Please stay. I have some of your old clothes in the house," she explains removing my pants from my hand and tossing them on one of the chairs.

"I'll sleep up here like I use to," I say looking for the missing blanket, but Carley has my arm pulling me up to stand before her.

"No. You will come sleep in my bed with me," she orders.

I wasn't expecting her to say that, but I'm not about to argue with her either. A comfortable bed beats this old leather couch anyway.

"If you're sure, sweetheart," I say stuffing my socked feet back into my boots.

"I won't be held responsible for how my dick behaves. If you wake up to it poking you, can't say that I'll be sorry about it," I warn her as I follow her slowly down the stairs.

As we walk hand in hand to the house, all I can do is pray no one else in the house is awake to see me right now. I have to be a sight in my boots, charcoal boxer briefs, and black band tee, with a bandage around my thigh.

We walk in the back door, locking the door behind us. She leads me to her bedroom. "Storm in Carson's old room next to mine while Lidia shares the master bedroom with mom. It's so cute," she says quietly as we open her door.

When we creep inside we shut the door. "I don't think Storm being where he can hear us have sex is cute," I mutter not impressed at all.

There is a bathroom between the two bedrooms, but still. 'What if the guy gets up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom? He could hear everything.'

"I said we are going to sleep. I said nothing about us having us having sex," she snarks at me saucily.

I can't help but chuckle softly. 'This girl. I'm loving this version of her that speaks her mind.'

I smile at her as she turns on the bedside lamp so we can see. "You're right. You did say we be sleeping," I concede striding to her queen-size bed.

I watch as she strips down to her underwear. She pulls on one of my old tank tops before removing her bra from underneath. I remove my shirt as soon as she turns back around to face me.

"Are you going to stand there all night watching me like a creeper?" She asks full of vinegar as she climbs in the bed and pulls back the covers.

'That sounds exactly like something Lachlan would say. I guess we did rub off on her after all.'

I give her my best devilish grin and slide into bed beside her.

We snuggle up under the covers with her head on my chest. She idly traces the tattoo of a snarling wolf with blood dripping from its mouth onto the broken face of a pocket watch. The broken watch is stuck on the exact time the five of us found Carley gone. I expect her to ask me about it, but she doesn't.

"I love your heartbeat," Carley mumbles dreamily instead.

I'm not sure what to say to her so I just stroke her long blonde hair away from her face and kiss the top of her head. I breathe in her rose-mint-scented shampoo.

I want to be with her as if nothing has changed, but I can't. People want us dead now more than ever. We are making waves, which makes the types of people we deal with nervous.

This is the first time in over eight years that I have fallen asleep without being black-out drunk or working out until my body is exhausted.

My last thought is, 'she better not disappear again. If she does...we will be ruthless in getting her back.'