Heathens & Hand Grenades (Book 1 of the Heathens Duet)

Chapter 34 - Callie

Branding myself a liar seems an exaggeration. The company could be worse. He's certainly not my first pick. Second or third either.

Though he is a surprisingly good patient once I get started. Just the barest hint of a wince when the alcohol first meets the skin before his face reverts to the thin mouthed, dry stare I'm used to. I can easily work with this.

Cleaning and drying the split skin shows the extent of the damage and I can't help but to marvel at the level of violence he expended. He may want to dismiss it, but I can't. I don't think I'll ever be close to him; not like I am with Dario or to a different degree Jaxson. Still not sure where we are outside of the physical or that that will ever be more than a one-time thing even as my nether regions fiercely protest that idea.

I coat his knuckles with liquid bandage as I push the skin together while he watches over my work. I may not be Florence Nightingale, but I'm pretty sure I can handle this without his hawkish eyes waiting for a misstep.

"You know your supervision isn't required for this right? Can't really mess it up too much. Not like I switched the alcohol for bleach," I sass.

"Would be a difficult switch considering the smell," he points out.

I don't even bother looking up to see his smug face. He's right of course which just makes it worse.

Rolling my eyes is my only response and I still duck my head over his hand so he doesn't notice. My newfound bravery is just that, new. I'm still working out the kinks.

The gauze might be a bit much, but this is as much a thank you as it is a petty dig at Pretty Boy's distinct lack of aftercare. It's not as if I expected a cuddle. That's not him at all, but the easy dismissal stings much like the alcohol that I've poured on Rave's knuckles.

Switching hands happens smoothly with no snark. The silence no longer is filled with tension like a powder keg waiting to go off, it feels more like the first nice weekend on the lake. It's calm and nice, but at any moment a boat or kayak will come sweeping through, bringing rippling waves with it.

I swear I can feel his eyes on me as I work. No matter, as long as he's not glaring at me. Positive thinking has gotten me through so far, might as well keep it going.

I finish, patting his hand as I do. "All done," I smile brightly. Fake it till you make it and all that. I know my mother would tell me to smile though someone's negativity, God will sort it out and I take her advice. Though Aunt Rachel would remind me that pleasantries given can just as easily be rescinded if not appreciated. Well, she said it a lot less politely, but the gist was the same.

I really do need to get a message back to her. I'll have to ask God about it later. I can only hope my amateur bartending skills have built up some good will.

Rave inspects my handy work, twisting his hand around to get a better look. "Not bad. Could've pulled the gauze a bit tighter though. Crisscrossing the strands over the knuckles would help tighten them while also allowing for easier movement."

Now that I'm not waiting for a verbal assault, I take a moment to really listen to what he said. Not only did he not berate me, but a compliment and a lesson. Warmth runs through my chest and the pride in his voice. Perhaps I'm not the only one that's been body snatched around here.

"Thanks," I say, unable to keep the suspicion out of my voice.

He sighs before rolling his shoulders and neck. "Look, I'll be honest with you. I don't want you here."