“G-Glory… help me.”
That was it? His last words weren’t an apology, or even an attempt to explain himself? Just him begging for his own life?
“Fuck you, asshole!” I balled up my fist and lunged forward, hitting him right in the jaw, and that’s when I realised I should have let someone else do that. My fingers felt like they were all smashed out of their sockets, and the pain shot up my arm.
“Oh god,” I gasped, turning and leaning my face against Henley’s chest. I didn’t want to show how much pain I was in, because Sean had already seen me weak too many times, but it was agony.
An older guy tapped Henley on the shoulder and jerked his head to the door so we started to follow. Surprisingly, I was done. I didn’t need anything more from Sean. His suffering would be enough, it was just a pity I’d hurt myself by trying to add to it.
“My turn?” Lenore asked, a brutal smile on her face.
“Break him slowly,” I gasped out as we stepped out of that horrifying room, and I finally gave into the pain, “Oh god, oh god.”
“It’s okay, love. I’m a doctor, so will you let me check your hand for you?”
I glanced at Henley through the veil of tears and he nodded, even though he clearly didn’t know the guy either.
“Jeffrey Turnbull,” he said quietly, “they have me on standby for stuff like this.”
“Stuff like that?” Henley asked, pointing at the doorway we were far enough away from to not see through, but close enough that we could hear an agonised scream, and cruel laughter.
“No. I’m here to patch up our guys if they’re injured. Sometimes they get… carried away.”
“Oi, you’re the one who shotme,” the big guy from outside hissed at him as he passed by.
Jeffrey sighed, gently cupping my hand in his, and checking my fingers one at a time.
“Doesn’t feel like anything’s broken. Can you curl your fingers?” He took me through an agonising sequence of checks, and nodded grimly.
“First time punching someone?” I nodded then shook my head, remembering my attempt at punching Henley, and he grimaced.
“Next time, do this,” he demonstrated with his own fist, “and punch the softer areas, not solid bone.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be encouraging her to do no harm or whatever?” Henley gasped, and Jeffrey chuckled.
“You’ve seen who I work for. It’s always better to know how to do these things properly.”
Henley studiously ignored my sassy look, and Jeffrey stroked his jaw as he stared at my fingers.
“I’d get home, get ice on it, and take some ibuprofen and painkillers. Rest it for tonight, but tomorrow, unless they swell or the pain becomes a crap-ton worse, start gently moving them. You don’t want them stiffening up.”
“Are you sure you’re a real doctor?” Henley asked.
Chapter Twenty
The guy who claimedto be a doctor glowered at me, and that made him look even less like a caring doctor, since he clearly had zero bedside manner.
“Why does everyone always ask me that, dammit?”
“It’s your face, bruv,” one of those Bennett tossers said, grinning widely at their ‘doctor’.
“I assure you I’m medically trained, qualified, and recognised in this country as a doctor.”
“Jeffo’s the best, bruv. He even fixed up your Italian friend when he got shot.”
The fuck? Did he mean Grease? I didn’t have any other Italian friends, and I was only fifty percent sure he was even Italian at all.
“Grease?”
