It felt like I was having an out-of-body experience, watching myself stitch Levi's skin closed as blood oozed onto my fingers. Sticky and warm but making my grip on the needle slippery. Every so often, I used the vodka to wash the blood off the needle, my hands shaking even as I made the fifth stitch and knotted the thread. I didn’t stop there and quickly wrapped his head with the bandage. Nothing about it looked professional or like it might hold.
I looked down at my blood-covered hands.
"Well done," Antonio said.
Well done?
I couldn’t speak, think, or process what had happened.
Did it happen?
It took Dean sitting back on his haunches to pull me from the haze. I lifted my eyes to his and found his face unreadable again, his brow set in a frown before he stood and disappeared into the dispersing crowd.
Antonio snapped his fingers, making me jump before his two bodyguards appeared at his side. "Move this young gentleman to the car."
They nodded in unison before stepping in to pull Levi to his feet. His body was weak as they hooked an arm each over their shoulders and walked him to the staircase in the back.
It suddenly dawned on me, that even though others were in the basement, I was alone with Antonio. And he was smiling at me proudly.
I cleared my throat and got to my feet, keeping my blood-drenched hands away from touching my thighs while I tried to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind.
"You shouldn’t underestimate yourself, Lily. You did better than I expected,” he said. "I might have to organize a job for you down here. How does basement nurse sound?"
My eyes went wide. "I—”
Antonio chuckled and shook his head. "Relax, sweetheart. I'm not going to have you do something you can't handle."
That didn’t reassure me he was joking about the basement nurse suggestion.
He nodded by way of goodbye, turned on his heel, and headed for the back stairs. Meanwhile, I could barely lift a foot. It was like they were glued to the floor. Maybe they had; Maybe the blood had coated my shoes and dried me to the floor. It would explain why I couldn’t bring myself to look down.
"You alright?"
I flinched out of my stare and turned to see the fighter, who had given me the vodka bottle, standing nearby. He had pulled on a T-shirt and was wearing jeans.
I nodded quickly and forced a smile, ignoring the nausea in my stomach.
"I'm Seb," he smiled and gestured to my hands. "You don't mind if I don't shake your hand just yet, yeah?"
I looked down at my hands and turned them over.
"Come on. You can use the sink in the kitchen.” He gestured over his shoulder, smiling easily.
I walked with Seb over to the kitchen he was referring to. It had a small bar fridge, green cabinetry on the back wall with missing doors, a small amount of bench space, and an industrial-style sink that only had cold water. There was a small bar of soap, which took forever to lather up, and Seb found me an old rag to dry my hands with when I was done.
Levi's blood had gotten under my fingernails and into every crease of my skin, staining my hands a light shade of red once I had washed away most of the blood. The cold water only made it more stubborn to remove as I scrubbed and scrubbed.
"Sorry we don't have a nail brush," Seb said as he leaned on the counter nearby, watching what I did with his arms folded.
"It's okay." I managed a small smile but let it fade as I thought of something to distract myself. "Why is there a sewing kit down here?"
Seb shrugged. "Some of us like doing patchwork in our downtime."
It wasn't something I expected to come from his mouth, but it brought my attention off my hands. “Really?”
The corner of his mouth twitched before a full smile broke free, and he chuckled. “I'm only messing with you. We're supposed to use it if we tear our clothes. Emphasis on the supposed. It’s easier just buying a new pair of shorts."
I smiled a little, feeling more at ease, as I finished cleaning my hands. Blood still clung to my nails, but they looked less gruesome than before. Reaching for the hand towel, I noticed someone approaching the lockers to the left of the kitchen. Just visible from the corner of my eye before I subtly looked at him.
