Jump | Zach Mitchell

thirty-two

"YOU think she broke her rib?"

    Owen sighs, giving Zach an exasperated look. "That's exactly what I just said. She fractured her rib. Did you hit your head? Having a hard time hearing or something?"

    "He's always like that," I say weakly.

    "That's unfortunate." Owen jerks his chin towards the table. "Hop up."

    I stare at him blankly. "...I can't."

    Without another word, he picks me up like a ragdoll and sets me down on the edge of the table. Then he turns to rifle through the first-aid kit he brought out of a drawer.

    Zach stands beside me. I can feel his eyes on my face, so I keep watching Owen. I don't want to see it: the worry, the fear, the slight hint of betrayal. No doubt he's upset that I kept how injured I was hidden from him.

    Gray is in the corner, neck craned as he looks around. We're inside one of the buildings near the Raptor Paddock. Even though we're inside the Aid Room, it's still pretty cool. The lights are a pale blue, casting a cool glow on everything.

    "All right, you crack this." Owen throws an ice pack at an unsuspecting Gray. He fumbles and drops it on the ground, then quickly picks it up and starts to knead it.

    "You take this." Owen throws a bag of cotton balls at Zach, who somehow catches that but doesn't catch the bottle of alcohol. "Start cleaning up her arm."

    Owen approaches me with a roll of gauze. "Okay, arms up."

    I do as he says – though it pulls at my side and causes my eyes to water – and he yanks my shirt over my head. It's a good thing I wore a bra today. He sets the soiled fabric on the table beside me.

    "I need to know how bad it is. Sorry."

    I frown, opening my mouth to ask him what he's talking about, but then he presses his long, tanned fingers against my bruise and I let out a scream that makes my throat instantly raw.

    All three guys flinch at the sheer volume of my agony.

    "Okay, so... pretty bad," Owen sums up. "I'll give you some pain meds. When was the last time that you ate?"

    It takes me a moment to be able to breathe again, then a little longer to get enough air to speak. "A few hours ago?" I guess.

    He nods. "I'll be right back." He whirls for the door, but not before instructing Gray to hold the icepack against my side.

    Cautiously, Gray approaches me. His blue eyes are wide and worried.

    I fake a smile. "It's okay, Gray."

    "No, it's not," Zach snaps.

    I sigh. "Zach..."

    "Why didn't you say something?" He demands.

    "In case you haven't noticed..." I puff. "I'm having a hard time... talking... as it is."

    He grimaces but doesn't say anything.

    Gray stands next to me, staring at the icepack in his small hands. "I don't want to hurt you," he says tenderly.

    "You won't hurt me, Gray. The icepack is going to make it better," I assure him.

    He eyes me warily as he slowly puts the icepack in its proper place. I bite down on my lower lip to keep from showing any signs of pain. "See?" I say, shaky. "It's okay."

    Zach tugs at the hand I have in my lap. "I need you to hold out your arm," he murmurs.

    I rest my arm on his shoulder. He takes one hand and uses it to tip the cotton balls in alcohol, while the other delicately holds my wrist. I wonder if he can feel my pulse, feel how I'm still shaking, feel how every part of me goes into overdrive whenever he touches me.

---

OWEN comes back with three water bottles and three cheese sandwiches. He tells us to eat quickly so that he can finish patching me up and then head out on the Raptor mission. The room is quiet aside from the crunching of the plastic water bottles as they're drained and the crinkle of the sandwich wrappers.

    When I am done eating, Owen gives me four ibuprofens. He says that it will help with the pain and the swelling. I take each one individually, then let Zach drink the rest of my water.

    "Gray, hold this here." Owen motions for the icepack to remain against my side. "I'm going to put a loose bandage, secure enough to keep the ice in place, okay?" He looks me in the eyes to make sure that I understand.

    I press my lips together. "Can you make it tight?"

    "No can do."

    "But it would feel a lot better-"

    "Nope."

    "I need pressure-"

    "No, you actually don't."

    Zach huffs. "If it's going to make her feel better, then why the fuck not?"

    Owen raises his eyebrows, looking between me and then Zach. "Compression on a broken rib is bad," he says slowly. "At least, that's what I was taught when I was in the Navy. But if you think that you know better, then fine. Of course, she'll eventually stop breathing because her lungs won't have enough room to expand, but..." He shrugs. "If you think you know best."

    I can tell that Owen's sarcasm pisses Zach off, but Zach chooses to keep his mouth shut.

    Owen resumes his work, making the bandage so loose that I wonder if it's even going to stay. When he pins it in place, I find that it's perfect.

    "Thanks," I say softly.

    He nods as he passes me my shirt, which I shrug into quickly. "Listen to me carefully, okay? When you get back to the hotel, you need to change the ice. Do not wrap the bandage any tighter than this."

    Now I nod. "Okay."

    "...and when you go to sleep tonight, you should lay on your hurt side."

    Zach crosses his arms. "I thought you said that compression is bad on a broken rib?"

    Owen pins him with a dead stare. "I know what I said. I also know that laying on her side will help her take deeper breaths. Fact check me on Web MD if you want. It'll tell you the same thing."

    "I would, but my phone kind of got destroyed by the monster dinosaur you guys made for shits and giggles."

    "Believe me, I had no part in that." Owen's voice is final, with underlying fury. "That thing should never have been created."