It was blood.
This was not the way I wanted to go. I looked around, trying to catch sight of Fin, but I couldn’t see him amidst the piles of bodies. Nor did I spot the captain. Nothing moved in the shadows, not even a breeze rustling the trees. I vaguely mourned the loss of my knives, somewhere in the grass by the big goon.
I lay there and stared at the individual blades of grass, wondering how long it would take for me to finally die. Ther
e were regrets, of course. I should have kissed Fin when we were sparring. I’d wanted to, and I’d chickened out. I hadn’t wanted him to see my feelings for him.
Fingers danced up my side, but I couldn’t make out who was touching me, or why.
Then the entire world went dark.
Chapter Fourteen
Somehow, between taking gut shots to recently fractured ribs and then passing out, my day had taken a turn for the worse. The captain’s face swam in and out of my vision. He hovered a foot from my face, so close I could see the scars on his cheek. They looked like he’d taken burning gunpowder to that sensitive flesh. There was a cut above his doe brown eyes, right through one of his eyebrows.
There was a dream like quality to everything around me, but I was pretty sure I was awake. And in a lot of pain.
He still looked ruggedly handsome in a weird way. Like he might take my spleen and sell it on the black market, but also like he’d ensure I at least got anesthesia first. A nice criminal, a kind-hearted bad guy.
I blinked a few times, my vision focusing so that the captain’s face became clearer. I searched for those touchstones I’d latched onto in my semi-conscious state, the scars, his eyes. Yup, same guy. Not a dream captain mocking me into another trap we might all traipse into and then die from.
I groaned out loud and shut my eyes. A sharp slap right across my check jolted me, and all my sore muscles tightened.
The bastard slapped me.
Before he could do it again, I reached out and smacked him hard across the face. Well, as hard as I could muster with the pain shooting through every nerve ending my body possessed.
“What was that for?” he grumbled. “I was trying to make sure you stay awake. You likely have a concussion and keeping you awake is the safest way to ensure you don’t die from a brain bleed or something.”
I focused on breathing in and out a few times before I answered him. “You slapped me first. Seemed fair. Besides, you can’t exactly strike back right now. I think my gallbladder is in the mud somewhere. Everything hurts.”
“Don’t move. I’m doing some stitches here. I’m not gonna lie. When it heals, the scar isn’t going to be pretty.”
I snorted, and pain shot through me. “Chicks dig scars, right?”
He continued working. “So they say. Don’t move, so I don’t do an even worse job than I already am.”
“And exactly where did you get your medical degree, sir?”
He shook his head, ducking down to nudge the flashlight with his elbow. “Even with your guts falling out, you’ve got jokes. Why am I not surprised?”
Pain tugged near his fingers. It had to be the needle going into my skin. Thankfully, I couldn’t see it. For some reason, I assumed it would hurt more to watch.
“How’s Fin?” I asked, trying to catch sight of him without moving any more than necessary.
Something like a hum escaped the captain. “He’s passed out up above your head a few feet away. I think he’ll be okay. Your wound was a little more grave, plus I have bad news.”
“Oh, more bad news? Cool.” I winced at another sharp jab.
“You’ll have to do me when I finish here.”
“What, now you choose to hit on me? I don’t think I’m up for a roll in the hay with you, captain.”
He shook his head. The flashlight slid away. Finally, something I could do. I grasped it with shaking fingers and lifted it as high as possible to give him more of a view.
“Thanks, but don’t worry. You’re not my type.”
“What’s your type then?” I asked, keeping the conversation going. It helped distract me from the pain a little.