My Captivator

Chapter Eight

Chapter 8:

Kairyn:

I woke up shivering in a bed I did not know. My shoulder ached and it was making me sick. I tossed and turned trying to find a position that worked best for me but it only caused more pain. I tried sitting up and a shock of agonizing pain shot through my arm and up through the left side of my body. I yelled and within seconds Merrick was in the room.

"What happened?" Worry laced his voice.

"I tried sitting up," was all I said.

"It's best you stay down. Your wound is covered but still fresh. It should feel better within a week, but you will have a nasty scar."

"You sound like you have had experience?" I asked. His eyebrows raised and he lifted the corner of his shirt, showing his lower stomach. I gasped at what I saw. Small pea sized scars, vaguely outlined in pink, traced down his abdomen. Surprisingly they caused his skin to seem darker. His toned stomach had two long, and pink scars that I guessed were from knife cuts. "How many are there? Do you remember where they came from? Do they still hurt?" He chuckled lightly, his eyes focused in on me. He dropped the corner of his shirt and his skin was covered again.

"I have seven scars. Five are from being shot and the other two were from . . ." His voice died down. His gaze went to the past and I could see him replaying the moments.

"From what?" I asked. He came back to the present and starred me in the eyes. His own were bright blue and mysterious. We held our gaze until he glanced down at my shoulder.

He gently rubbed a hand over the white gauze that stuck to my skin. I flinched but didn't move away. "We need to apply a new wrap." He spoke cautiously. "If you want, you can try and change into that tank top," he pointed to a black, spaghetti strapped shirt on the end of the bed and handed it to me, "then lower your strap underneath your arm." He was giving me an option to be covered. I nodded my head and he stood to help me sit up. I grunted but held in my yell. "There." He then turned and walked to the door. Stopping in the doorway he turned to me. "It will be painful to take off the shirt. Just a warning, don't lift your arm above your head and when you put the tank top on, put your left arm through the hole where your head goes, then use your good arm to pull it on. I'll be outside the door if you need anything. Let me know when you are ready." I nodded and he exited the room, closing the door.

I sat on the bed starring at the tank top I held in my hands. Thank the Lord it was black and not white. It wouldn't show any blood on it that way, or anything else that might show through.

I took a deep breath and then brought my hand up to pull the sleeve off my injured arm. I winced at the wave of pain that shot through my left side. I took another deep breath and pulled my arm through completely then with my good arm, I pulled the shirt off and threw it on the ground. It was stained with my blood and I nearly gagged at the smell. Grabbing the black tank top, I placed my left arm through the head hole and then shimmied it over my head pulling my right arm through the right strap. Once the shirt was finally on, I let out the breath I had been holding and breathed slowly to calm my nerves. "That was the easy part." I spoke quietly. I breathed in and said, "I can do this. If Merrick can do it seven times, I can do it once." I glanced towards the door and called for him. He immediately came in and was at my side in seconds with a new gauze wrap, rubbing alcohol, a sponge, a rag, a towel and a medicine bottle.

He set down the medical items on the nightstand and then sat on the bed. "You'll want to lay down for this." Nodding, I started to lie down and he reached over to help me. Merrick handed me the rag. From the look on my face he knew I was confused. "It's for you to bite so you don't chip any teeth when you grit them." My eyes grew wide. Placing the rag in my mouth I glanced up at him. His apologetic eyes met mine as he spoke. "Ready?" Nodding, I closed my eyes.