But I also couldn’t leave this fiercely protective and annoyingly loyal woman on her own. Especially not since I could help.
“Where’s your first-aid kit?”
She pointed toward the first bathroom I’d entered. “Towel closet.”
The relief and gratitude that flooded her eyes demolished any remaining uncertainty I had about staying. I needed to be here. And I’d do whatever I could for her dumbass brother.
Her first-aid kit was easy to find because it was bright red and the size I’d expect to find in a school. Unzipping it, I glanced over the contents as I hurried back, kneeling beside Ben, opposite Mercy. I immediately found rubber gloves and stretched on a pair, then handed a second pair to Mercy. She was already splattered in blood, but dutifully put them on and went back to carefully trying to tug Ben’s T-shirt over his head.
Her efforts were a waste of time, so I found a pair of scissors and cut everything but his underwear away.
Once we got a good look at the damage to his front side, she leaned back on her heels and said, “I have first-aid training, but this is beyond me.”
“Yeah. He needs a doctor. The swelling around his middle suggests broken ribs. Possibly even a punctured lung. He needs X-rays and possibly a transfusion.”
She swallowed and nodded. “But what he’s got is us. What do you need me to do?”
If she was hellbent on this course of action, I might as well put her to work. “First, call Mom and let her know I won’t be home tonight. Then, let’s start with some warm water and clean towels.”
She gave me a grateful smile. “You got it, doc.”
“Not a doctor,” I reminded her, though it felt good to be of use again.
Mercy and I worked on her brother for a few hours. We cleaned him up, sterilized his wounds, and I used her suture kit to stitch up the wounds too big for butterfly stitches. I still thought she was crazy for not taking him to the hospital, but it wasn’t my call.
After I did all I could for Ben, I helped Mercy carry him into the spare bedroom and situate him on the bed. Then, I followed her into the kitchen, where she washed her hands three times before I took the bottle of dish soap away and turned off the water.
“Thank you,” she said, distractedly drying her hands as her focus locked on the wall separating us from her brother.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Just don’t hold me accountable if he bleeds to death internally.”
I’d been hoping to piss her off enough to pull her out of her trauma response, but she only winced and nodded. “Noted. Are you hungry? I can whip up spaghetti really quick if you’re interested. Or I can have something delivered.”
Feeling like an ass, I grabbed the towel and dried her hands for her, breaking her line of sight with the wall and forcing her to look at me. “Let me take care of dinner while you go take a shower.”
Her eyes met mine, partially glazed over and not really seeing me. It was a testament to how off she was that she didn’t argue with me. Instead, she nodded. “A shower sounds good.”
She turned and headed into her room. I washed up and found noodles and sauce in her pantry that I considered making, but changed my mind because it looked a little too much like blood. Menus for a local gyro place were on her fridge, so I ordered takeout instead.
Dinner arrived before Mercy reemerged. The shower had been off for some time, and I was starting to worry, so I knocked on her bedroom door. She finally came out wearing pajama bottoms with strings of Christmas lights and a matching shirt that read ‘Get lit.’ Her eyes were puffy and her nose a little pink, clueing me in to why her shower had taken so long.
“Just in time,” I said, gesturing toward the table where I’d laid out our food. “I hope this is okay. I found the menu on your fridge, and it looked worn.”
“This is perfect. Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I pulled out her chair, and she looked at me like I was some mythical creature before sitting down.
We dug into our gyros, and then I produced the baklava I’d also ordered.
“I’m… I’m sorry tonight didn’t work out as intended,” she said, clearing the table after we finished. “But I’m glad you were here. Thank you again for helping Ben. Feel free to bill me for your services.”
It felt like a dismissal. “You think I’m going somewhere?” I asked.
Her gaze slid to her brother’s door. “I figure you’re ready to head home after all that.”
“Yeah. No. I’m not leaving you here alone with this mess.”
Pink brightened her cheeks. “I can take care of my brother.”
