flushed the toilet, not daring to look at the bloodied water as it swooshed out of sight.
“Is the water okay? Too hot or too cold?”
He shook his head and leaned back in the tub. She picked up the wash cloth and started with his face, dabbing carefully around his eyes. He opened them to look at her, his right eye almost swollen shut, but his left eye a glittering green slit beneath thick eye lids.
“Thank you,” he whispered, and let his eyes close.
Once she cleaned his face and scrubbed his short blond hair, she moved down his chest, noticing for the first time how incredibly muscular he was. His lower stomach was a cluster of round muscles, his chest protruding out above it. His arms, too, were thick and round, the lines of his veins bulging out under his skin. He couldn’t have an ounce of fat on him. She didn’t have to do much to his legs, since they soaked in the water, but she ran the wash cloth over them anyway, feeling his hard, wide thighs and calves.
It looked like most of the damage was to his face and back. One leg had a welt on the side. Maybe someone had kicked him to drop him to his knees. In several places, his stomach and back were bruised and cut, with his back having the majority of the slashes across the skin. His face had several small cuts, was half purple with bruising, and the swelling seemed to be getting worse.
She let the water out of the tub and grabbed a towel to dry him off. But she’d only gotten past his head and face before the blood from his cuts had made a small pool in the tub around him.
“You’re bleeding too much,” she said. “I think you really should go to the hospital. We can go to one that’s far away if you want. I’ll drive you. But you might have internal bleeding.”
He shook his head. “I have too many enemies. They’ll find me.”
“You’d rather die here?”
“They’ll kill me anyway.”
Fiona rubbed at her face. What could she do? If he didn’t care if he died here, then she’d have to do her best to keep him alive. First, the wounds.
All she had were pink and purple glittered bandages in her bathroom cabinet. Sophia loved them, but they’d be little help to this man. She went into her room and looked around. What could be used as a bandage? Her clean sheets sat in a pile in the corner. She’d come back from washing them at Sue’s yesterday and hadn’t had a chance to stuff them into the narrow hall closet yet. She picked up a pillow case and shook it out. This might be the perfect size.
In the bathroom, she helped him sit up, then took a hand towel, folded it in half, and placed it over his back. It covered the area of the wounds. She wrapped the pillow case around him, tying the corners in the front to keep pressure on the wounds. He groaned when she pulled it tight. Most of the cuts on his face were smaller. She dabbed away the new blood, smeared some ointment on them and covered his face in pink and purple glitter bandages.
“Sorry.” She almost chuckled at the sight. “These are all I have.”
“Least they don’t have kittens on them,” he muttered, pulling the corner of his mouth up.
“Ready to stand up?”
He gripped the sides of the tub and pushed himself up, pausing to tremble as he straightened his legs. His boxer shorts were now soaking wet and covered in blood.
“Umm.” She pulled her mouth to the side. “Those should probably come off.” She pointed to his boxers.
He nodded and she slid them down, trying not to look. But as she used the washcloth to remove the blood that had dripped from his back before she got the bandage in place, she snuck a peek at his front. She was not disappointed. His butt was firm and round.
She set the blanket on the floor for him to step onto and supported his weight as he lifted each leg over the edge of the tub.
They shuffled to her bedroom. He seemed to move even slower now, and she wondered
“Is the water okay? Too hot or too cold?”
He shook his head and leaned back in the tub. She picked up the wash cloth and started with his face, dabbing carefully around his eyes. He opened them to look at her, his right eye almost swollen shut, but his left eye a glittering green slit beneath thick eye lids.
“Thank you,” he whispered, and let his eyes close.
Once she cleaned his face and scrubbed his short blond hair, she moved down his chest, noticing for the first time how incredibly muscular he was. His lower stomach was a cluster of round muscles, his chest protruding out above it. His arms, too, were thick and round, the lines of his veins bulging out under his skin. He couldn’t have an ounce of fat on him. She didn’t have to do much to his legs, since they soaked in the water, but she ran the wash cloth over them anyway, feeling his hard, wide thighs and calves.
It looked like most of the damage was to his face and back. One leg had a welt on the side. Maybe someone had kicked him to drop him to his knees. In several places, his stomach and back were bruised and cut, with his back having the majority of the slashes across the skin. His face had several small cuts, was half purple with bruising, and the swelling seemed to be getting worse.
She let the water out of the tub and grabbed a towel to dry him off. But she’d only gotten past his head and face before the blood from his cuts had made a small pool in the tub around him.
“You’re bleeding too much,” she said. “I think you really should go to the hospital. We can go to one that’s far away if you want. I’ll drive you. But you might have internal bleeding.”
He shook his head. “I have too many enemies. They’ll find me.”
“You’d rather die here?”
“They’ll kill me anyway.”
Fiona rubbed at her face. What could she do? If he didn’t care if he died here, then she’d have to do her best to keep him alive. First, the wounds.
All she had were pink and purple glittered bandages in her bathroom cabinet. Sophia loved them, but they’d be little help to this man. She went into her room and looked around. What could be used as a bandage? Her clean sheets sat in a pile in the corner. She’d come back from washing them at Sue’s yesterday and hadn’t had a chance to stuff them into the narrow hall closet yet. She picked up a pillow case and shook it out. This might be the perfect size.
In the bathroom, she helped him sit up, then took a hand towel, folded it in half, and placed it over his back. It covered the area of the wounds. She wrapped the pillow case around him, tying the corners in the front to keep pressure on the wounds. He groaned when she pulled it tight. Most of the cuts on his face were smaller. She dabbed away the new blood, smeared some ointment on them and covered his face in pink and purple glitter bandages.
“Sorry.” She almost chuckled at the sight. “These are all I have.”
“Least they don’t have kittens on them,” he muttered, pulling the corner of his mouth up.
“Ready to stand up?”
He gripped the sides of the tub and pushed himself up, pausing to tremble as he straightened his legs. His boxer shorts were now soaking wet and covered in blood.
“Umm.” She pulled her mouth to the side. “Those should probably come off.” She pointed to his boxers.
He nodded and she slid them down, trying not to look. But as she used the washcloth to remove the blood that had dripped from his back before she got the bandage in place, she snuck a peek at his front. She was not disappointed. His butt was firm and round.
She set the blanket on the floor for him to step onto and supported his weight as he lifted each leg over the edge of the tub.
They shuffled to her bedroom. He seemed to move even slower now, and she wondered
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