Seeking Vengeance Read Free Page B

chuckled. “No, his mother was smarter than that. Not much, but a little.” She retrieved other items she'd need out of a cupboard, including a Dutch oven to act as a bucket when she cleaned his leg, as well as a pitcher she usually used for making lemonade.
    “ I take it you don't share a mother?”
    “ No. He's my half-brother. He said your name is Sam.” She set the Dutch oven on the floor and straightened, putting her hands on her hips. “Do you have a last name, Sam?”
    He averted his face. “I do.”
    She waited b ut when he wasn't forthcoming, she shrugged. “Whatever. Let's get this over with. You need to take off your jacket.”
    He unzipped it but had trouble getting it off. She grasped the right cuff and he pulled his arm as she eased the leather over his shoulder and slid it down his arm. Molly stilled at the sight of a gun in a holster strapped over his shoulder. “I don't allow weapons in my home.”
    She expected defiance, but Sam merely unbuckled the holster and set it on the table. “I don't much like them either. You can hang onto it if you want.”
    Molly stared at the weapon, then picked it up by the holster straps and put it on top of her refrigerator for the time being. Turning back to Sam, she said, “Before we go any further, do you have any more surprises in store for me?”
    Wearily, he shook his head. “No, ma'am.”
    He didn't sound like a biker and she cocked her head, studying him. So he was a polite one. If it was one thing she'd learned over the years, it was that bikers came from all walks of life. She even knew a few doctors who put on the leather and tried to be tough on the weekend. Thinking of leather, she glanced at the jacket still in her hand. The lining was saturated with blood. No wonder he looked so shocky. She tossed it in a corner. “I think that's beyond repair.”
    He didn't act too upset about the loss, and that made her wonder. Most motorcycle guys she knew would rather giv e up an arm than their jacket. “Before I start working, I want you to drink something. You need fluids.” She raised an eyebrow at him as she moved to the refrigerator. “Non-alcoholic fluids,” she clarified.
    She had milk, water, juice and a couple of diet sodas. The juice would have to do. As she reached for it, she noticed the bottle of children's electrolyte solution in the back. She'd bought it when Kelsie had been sick with a stomach bug the month before. Perfect.
    She poured some in a large glass and handed it to him and hid a smile when he gagged on the first swallow.
    “ What is this crap?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared at her.
    So much for Mr. Politeness. “It's what you get when you're dehydrated and need fluid replacement. It's not like I have an IV in my medicine cabinet. Quit acting like a baby and drink it.”
    “ I'm not dehydrated. I've been drinking all afternoon.”
    She thought she'd detected the faint odor of whiskey on his breath, but Johnny's had been a lot stronger. “That's why you're dehydrated—that, and blood loss.”
    She rifled through her junk drawer for an old pair of bandage scissors, ignoring his muttering about how she was trying to poison him. Finding the scissors, she moved to his side again. “I need to cut your t-shirt off, unless you're able to get it off yourself.”
    He glanced at his blood-soaked shirt and shook his head. “It's not like I can ever wear this again. Go for it.”
    Molly made quick work of the shirt and tried to hide her dismay at the deep gouge across his ba ck. She wasn’t an expert, but she had seen a few bullet wounds on the job before. One end of the gouge was deeper and had a large bruise already radiating from the impact. “I can clean this up and throw some butterfly tape on it, but I still think you need to see a doctor, get some x-rays, antibiotics and stitches.” She cleaned the wound, dabbing the edges with the clean rags.
    He sucked in a breath between his teeth as she worked, but