I walk to the head of the bed and look my brother over. His face is busted up pretty bad. He’ll look like a damn rainbow in the morning. A puffy rainbow, that is.
His knuckles are in bad shape, too. I can’t help but smile that he probably gave somebody one hell of a fight. It’s when I get to his abdomen that I get concerned. His black leather jacket has fallen away from his side and I can see the wetness staining his black t-shirt. I can also see the jagged slash in the material, revealing bloody skin and a slit in his side beneath it.
“Olivia, take Marissa and go get Gavin. He’s working the bar in your place.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Olivia spring into action. Marissa, however, is still standing beside me, looking like a deer caught in someone’s headlights.
“Marissa!” I shout sternly. She jumps like I startled her. She turns her confused eyes on me. “Go with Olivia.”
She nods almost robotically and turns to let Olivia lead her from the room. I notice as she walks away, she keeps looking back at the bed.
This will push her over the edge for sure. If she’s not already batshit crazy, this ought to take care of it.
I turn my attention back to Nash. I check his pulse, which is strong. I feel a rush of relief. I didn’t want to alarm the females, but when I first looked at him, I wondered if he was dead. I might not have much fondness for this new Nash, but it would still hurt like a bitch to lose him a second time.
As easily as I can, I mash on the bones around his eyes and jaw. Nothing feels broken. It’s a good thing Davenports have strong bones.
I feel around in his hair to see if I can feel any major head wound, thinking that might be why he’s unconscious. I feel a goose-egg sized bump on the back of his head. From what I know of head wounds, though, swelling out is always better than swelling in.
I make my way down to his side. I peel up his shirt from his stomach and examine what looks like a stab wound. Thankfully it’s just oozing bright red blood now, which means it probably didn’t knick anything major, like an artery or an organ.
I push gently on his stomach. It still feels soft and I know that’s a good sign, too. When my fingers get close to his side, he moans and rolls his head.
“You all right, man?” I ask.
I hear the others come back right before Gavin appears at my side.
“Crikey! Someone beat the shit out of ‘im!”
Nash cracks open an eyelid and glares at Gavin. It’s funny that he can convey so much feeling in that one small gesture. “Kiss my ass,” he mumbles through his swollen, busted lips.
“What the hell happened?” I ask him.
“Somebody caught up with me on the bike. I think it’s safe to say you’re gonna need a new one.”
Shit, shit, shit!
“Do you know who it was?”
“Nah. They came up behind me out of nowhere. Wrecked me then beat the fu—” Nash stops himself, cracking his eyelid again and looking at Marissa and Olivia. “Sorry. Beat the shit out of me while I was on the ground. One of those Russian bastards stabbed me and then they went through my pockets, patting me down.”
“What were they looking for?”
“My phone, I think. I keep it in my boot so I won’t lose it, though.”
I hiss through my teeth.
“What is it?” Olivia asks.
“I thought we’d be safe now. Or at least safe-er.”
“You will be. For a while anyway. This was just a warning. We’ve got three days to get them the rest of the copies and they said they’ll call it even. If not, they’re coming after us.”
“But we could go to the cops with it. It could incriminate them!”
“I guess that’s not enough to scare them.”
Part of me had wondered if it would be enough to be effective in keeping them away. Evidently not.
“Three days, huh?”
“Three days.”
“Um, I know whatever you people are involved in is pretty serious stuff, but don’t you think we need to get him to the hospital?” Marissa interjects.
“No!” Nash cries. “No hospitals. They keep records. And they call authorities.”
“Well, we can’t just let you lie here and die.”
“No worries, mate. I know a guy,” Gavin offers.
“A guy?” Nash asks. “I don’t need to be offed. I just need to be patched up.”
“Yeah, this guy can do that, too.”
I say nothing over the “too” part. I’d say most of Gavin’s associates are…shady.
“I don’t know if he’ll come to a place this…public, though.”
I think for a second. “Think you can travel?” I ask Nash.