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A squeak burst from her lips as she saw the shape standing over her injured guest. Bulky and tall, he occupied all the space between the bed and the window. The water spilled as Lexi dumped the filled glass on the dressing table. The tablets shifted with metallic twittering as she let the boxes fall from beneath her arm. Within less than a second, she’d held the pepper spray out before her and edged around the bed to the intruder.
A man with a head like a bowling ball turned to face her. His build reminded her of Doug or Ron. A pale mackintosh shrouded his heavy shoulders like a tent, and he would have merged well in their family. Cauliflower ears squatted against his head, but creation had dealt his face a heavier blow. It had pounded his features as flat as a pavement. Lexi blinked in shock, but her hand remained steady.
“Who are you?” she demanded. “How did you get in? Move away from him now!”
“You’re a bit late.” She recognised the surprisingly lyrical tenor from her earlier phone conversation. The voice didn’t match the man. A smile split the face but didn’t reach his eyes. “I walked right past you as you fluffed around selecting the perfect glass for your guest. The cat met me.” He raised his meaty hand to reveal a bloodied scratch. Then he turned his attention to the motorbike rider as though Lexi didn’t exist. “Let’s get you to my vehicle,” he snapped. “It’s on the next street. I’ll fix you up back at the base and sent someone for your bike.”
Lexi edged closer, skirting the bed with the pepper spray forgotten. It bumped against her thigh as she weighed the horrible pallor of the injured man’s complexion. “He needs a hospital,” she declared. The gauze pads hung like a broken wing where the intruder had pulled off the upper line of tape. Blood soaked it and still oozed from the open wound. “And perhaps a blood transfusion,” Lexi ventured.
“We don’t do hospitals!” he growled at her. Then he turned to the man still sitting on the edge of the bed. His head had fallen forward, and he appeared precarious, like a fragile soul on a cliff waiting for fate to steal his life. As Lexi watched, he lifted his head and effected a definitive shake. The big man dropped to his haunches. Conflict vied in his heavy features as he lowered his voice. “Come on, Shade,” he whispered in a controlled hush. He winced and shot a regretful glance at Lexi as though speaking his colleague’s name, coloured outside the lines. “Not here. Not with her. Let’s get you back to base and we’ll sort it out like we always do.”
But again, the injured man shook his head. He peered down at his ruined arm and seemed to steel himself for more pain. It oozed again as he moved, the blood staining his arm further and trickling as far as his wrist.
“Please, help him?” Lexi implored. “I’ll do whatever you need.” Her breath hitched. “But tell me one thing first. Do you work for Lachlan Mortimer?” She couldn’t stop her teeth from grinding as she spoke her father’s treacherous name.
A guffaw shook the heavy man’s body. It rippled through him like an explosion. He glanced down at Shade as if inferring Lexi’s insanity without words. But the injured man didn’t join in his merriment. “Hell no!” he replied at last. “We’re the good guys!” His shoulders flexed, and he shucked off the giant mackintosh. It fell to the rug, and he trampled it without care as he knelt beside Shade. “Fine!” he snapped. “Do you have any superglue, girl?”
Lexi closed her eyes and mentally inventoried her office. She snapped them open with a nod. “Yes. A new tube. What else?”
“A clean wash cloth, a towel, and some hot water. Boiled, not from the tap.” He shook his head, and his next sentence took in the decorations of the simple female bedroom. Leaning forward, he rested his wrist on Shade’s knee. “Come with me now, buddy. She’s not your responsibility. If some whacko is shooting at her, then it’s her problem.”
Another shake of the curly head. Sweat glittered in a line along Shade’s spine. He hadn’t lost litres of blood, but still enough to tax his battered body.
His friend grumbled as he knelt before him. From the copious folds of his outdated rain mac, he tugged a metal box. The lid flipped open with the touch of a fingernail along its join and flat surgical wound plasters slid onto the stained bedspread. Lexi gasped in horror as he lifted a reel of fishing line in his beefy fingers. A curved needle glinted from its twisted threads. Glancing up, he swore at her and ordered, “Get out! Do what I’ve asked. It’s not like you’re much use for anything else.”
Lexi fled the room. This man taxed her nerves like a phobia. He seeped danger like a tangible force from every pore and strand of his scrubby hair. She needed him gone from her safe place like a wicked spirit. Nahla fretted and mewed as Lexi moved around the house. She followed at such a close distance that Lexi tripped over her twice. But instead of rebuking her, she picked up the furry body and clutched the cat to her chest. “Thank you again,” she breathed into the soft scent of her. “I should listen to you more often.” A rumbling purr issued from Nahla’s chest. Lexi placed the soft body on her office chair and yanked open her desk drawer. She found the new tube of glue with little effort and left the room, closing the door behind her. The cat protested, but Lexi wouldn’t risk her suffering a chance kick from the awful man’s boot.
She hurried to the kitchen and filled the kettle. Time seemed to slow while she waited for it to heat. The airing cupboard disgorged a clean wash cloth and towel. Lexi worried at a cuticle as she considered the man’s request. He wanted uncontaminated water and yet the laundered items were clean but not sterile. She pondered this as the kettle boiled with rousing bubbles. Remembering his former rebuke, she tried the back door handle and it swung inwards. He’d entered through her garden, clambering the fences of three other houses to reach hers. She frowned at her state-of-the-art lock and shook her head.
Lexi poured a dribble of the water inside a pottery mixing bowl. She swilled it and tipped the waste into the sink before filling the bowl with the remainder of the kettle’s contents. Concerned about failing again before the men, she set the kettle to boil with more fresh water.
Her laboured walk along the hallway involved some sloshing of the bowl’s contents onto the wooden floor. It seeped into the varnish to leave temporary grey streaks. She carried her offerings into the bedroom and set them on the dressing table. Shade still perched on the edge of the bed and Lexi’s stomach roiled as she saw what his blank expression hid. The big man knelt beside him. He fed the curved needle through Shade’s skin with more delicacy than his huge fingers suggested possible. The clear fishing line trailed behind the needle. The man’s tongue poked free of his lips as though it aided his concentration. Lexi stilled, afraid to speak or create a disturbance which might cause more hurt for Shade. And so, she forced herself to watch the horrible surgery taking place in her private sanctuary.
