her hand and guided it into place. Her smile broadened into a grin, and Sarah allowed herself to relax slightly as it became apparent that Alex was not so much concussed as drugged up to the eyeballs.
“Told you not to worry,” Alex said, tripping over her words and failing utterly in her attempt to sound stern. “And here y’are, all worried and stuff.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sarah brushed her fingers across Alex’s forehead. “So, dare I ask what the other guy looks like?” It was a standard joke, but Alex didn’t seem capable of anything but the most literal interpretation.
“Pretty fuckin’ big,” she said, her eyes widening as far as the bruising would permit. “Huge.” She held her hands apart, trying to give an impression of the man’s size, but she couldn’t coordinate the movement and ended up looking like an angler who’d caught quite a small fish. “And mean,” she added as an afterthought.
Sarah touched the bandage lightly. “What happened here?”
“He cut me with a knife.” Alex made the admission with obvious reluctance. She took hold of Sarah’s finger and gripped onto it tightly, to Sarah’s relief. The wound to her arm was still bleeding through its dressing, but she seemed to have a good range of movement, so any serious damage to the nerves or other underlying structures was unlikely.
“It went a bit numb at first, but it’s okay now,” she said, as if reading Sarah’s mind. She wriggled her fingers when Sarah stroked each of them in turn. “And that tickles.”
Sarah shook her head. “I wish you’d learn to bloody duck.” She tried to keep her expression serious, but Alex looked so remorseful that she had to smile.
The start of a heartfelt apology was interrupted by a doctor hurrying into the cubicle.
“Officer…”―he checked the paperwork in his hand―“Hayes. Sorry for the delay. A frequent flier of ours decided that tonight would be a good night for self-immolation.” Halfway through snapping on a clean pair of gloves, he paused thoughtfully. “Messy business. I absolutely do not recommend it.” He rolled a small equipment table toward the bed. “You must be Sarah,” he said, seeming to notice her for the first time.
She nodded, assuming that at some point Alex or Quinn had mentioned her name. She moved to the opposite side of the bed, giving him room to tuck a sterile sheet beneath Alex’s arm.
“The X-rays were clear, no fractures,” he said. “Can you just…” Alex obligingly raised her arm so that he could unwind the bandage. “Thanks. Yes, given the swelling, I expected worse.”
The final piece of gauze fell onto the sheet with a wet slap, and he cleaned away the blood to expose the injury. Sarah stepped closer to see the damage and immediately wished she hadn’t. The knife wound extended from the underside of Alex’s wrist to the middle of her forearm. In the stark light of the cubicle, it gaped and glistened like a sick smile.
“Nasty,” the doctor said with considerable understatement. As he started to perform a series of tests to assess circulation and sensation, Sarah watched Alex trying to concentrate even though the pain was making sweat break out on her forehead. When he was finished, he patted the back of Alex’s hand.
“That’s all fine. You take it easy now while I get everything set up here.”
Sarah soaked a handful of paper napkins at the small sink and used them to wipe Alex’s face. “Better?”
“Mmm.” Alex nodded gratefully.
“Have you home and tucked up in bed in no time.”
“Sounds lovely.”
The doctor held up a syringe and squirted a small amount of clear liquid from a needle that was anything but small. “Okay, Alex, this is going to sting a little.”
His warning made her roll her eyes, and Sarah stifled a giggle; they had both lost count of the number of sutures they had needed in the last three years.
“Hey, at least you’re getting an anesthetic,” Sarah said drily.
Alex snorted, but
“Told you not to worry,” Alex said, tripping over her words and failing utterly in her attempt to sound stern. “And here y’are, all worried and stuff.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sarah brushed her fingers across Alex’s forehead. “So, dare I ask what the other guy looks like?” It was a standard joke, but Alex didn’t seem capable of anything but the most literal interpretation.
“Pretty fuckin’ big,” she said, her eyes widening as far as the bruising would permit. “Huge.” She held her hands apart, trying to give an impression of the man’s size, but she couldn’t coordinate the movement and ended up looking like an angler who’d caught quite a small fish. “And mean,” she added as an afterthought.
Sarah touched the bandage lightly. “What happened here?”
“He cut me with a knife.” Alex made the admission with obvious reluctance. She took hold of Sarah’s finger and gripped onto it tightly, to Sarah’s relief. The wound to her arm was still bleeding through its dressing, but she seemed to have a good range of movement, so any serious damage to the nerves or other underlying structures was unlikely.
“It went a bit numb at first, but it’s okay now,” she said, as if reading Sarah’s mind. She wriggled her fingers when Sarah stroked each of them in turn. “And that tickles.”
Sarah shook her head. “I wish you’d learn to bloody duck.” She tried to keep her expression serious, but Alex looked so remorseful that she had to smile.
The start of a heartfelt apology was interrupted by a doctor hurrying into the cubicle.
“Officer…”―he checked the paperwork in his hand―“Hayes. Sorry for the delay. A frequent flier of ours decided that tonight would be a good night for self-immolation.” Halfway through snapping on a clean pair of gloves, he paused thoughtfully. “Messy business. I absolutely do not recommend it.” He rolled a small equipment table toward the bed. “You must be Sarah,” he said, seeming to notice her for the first time.
She nodded, assuming that at some point Alex or Quinn had mentioned her name. She moved to the opposite side of the bed, giving him room to tuck a sterile sheet beneath Alex’s arm.
“The X-rays were clear, no fractures,” he said. “Can you just…” Alex obligingly raised her arm so that he could unwind the bandage. “Thanks. Yes, given the swelling, I expected worse.”
The final piece of gauze fell onto the sheet with a wet slap, and he cleaned away the blood to expose the injury. Sarah stepped closer to see the damage and immediately wished she hadn’t. The knife wound extended from the underside of Alex’s wrist to the middle of her forearm. In the stark light of the cubicle, it gaped and glistened like a sick smile.
“Nasty,” the doctor said with considerable understatement. As he started to perform a series of tests to assess circulation and sensation, Sarah watched Alex trying to concentrate even though the pain was making sweat break out on her forehead. When he was finished, he patted the back of Alex’s hand.
“That’s all fine. You take it easy now while I get everything set up here.”
Sarah soaked a handful of paper napkins at the small sink and used them to wipe Alex’s face. “Better?”
“Mmm.” Alex nodded gratefully.
“Have you home and tucked up in bed in no time.”
“Sounds lovely.”
The doctor held up a syringe and squirted a small amount of clear liquid from a needle that was anything but small. “Okay, Alex, this is going to sting a little.”
His warning made her roll her eyes, and Sarah stifled a giggle; they had both lost count of the number of sutures they had needed in the last three years.
“Hey, at least you’re getting an anesthetic,” Sarah said drily.
Alex snorted, but
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