Page 58 of Play Dirty
Azrael
“Bhenchod!”
Doctor Farnsworth continued to clean the wound just beneath Azrael’s shoulder. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”
Madi scowled at him, and Az would have laughed if he were able, but his ability to remain good-humored was getting harder with each passing moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate what the doctor was doing. The guy, one of Ronin’s contacts, had managed to sneak a truckload of medical supplies and equipment, as well as a nurse, into the safe house with the other apartment dwellers none the wiser. Creating a pop-up hospital for people like Az and Madi was lucrative but likely thankless work. And Madi’s threats and scowls were not making the man’s job easier.
Az had done his best to reassure Madi he was fine while they were still at Bennington’s, but it was getting harder to act like he was still okay. He wasn’t in danger of dying, but the pain was excruciating. He was slick with perspiration, his mouth was a desert, his lips dry as ancient papyrus. Still, he attempted a smile before turning his attention to the doctor. “My mother is dead. You speak Urdu?”
The doctor scoffed. “No, but I know a curse word when I hear one. I imagine you called me a motherfucker,” he said conversationally before applying pressure that sent Az’s painfully empty stomach rolling and his vision tunneling.
“Sister fucker,” Az confirmed with a pained gasp.
“I don’t have a sister, but consider me scandalized,” Farnsworth deadpanned.
“Stay with me, baby,” Madi crooned, brushing a cool hand over the overheated skin of his cheek.
“It’s worse than I thought if you are calling me baby,jaanum,” Az choked out, doing his best to focus on Madi’s pretty mouth.
It wasn’t Madi who answered, but the doctor. “The bullet missed the shoulder joint, but it must have ricocheted off the scapula, because it came out just under your armpit. You lost a lot of blood. You should be in the hospital. You likely need a transfusion.” Before either of them could interrupt, he lifted a hand. “Yeah, I know. No hospitals. You’re honestly in better shape than your friend in there.”
“That is because my man is an excellent marksman. The same can’t be said for the man who shot our friend. Right,motek?”
“Youshot him?” the doctor asked, then snorted. “You know what? None of my business. I really don’t want to know. With you people, pain is like foreplay. I’ve done as much as I can. Your friend in the other room is sleeping off the pain meds I gave him. I’m leaving my nurse to supervise his transfusion and to monitor his IV medications. I’m going to give you something, too, so you can rest. Rest and fluids and these antibiotics. Change the dressing every forty-eight hours, or if it’s looking soiled, if it starts oozing, or starts to smell, go to the ER…or don’t, but those are signs of infection.”
“I don’t want—” Az started before a wave of pleasure washed over him.
“Too late.” The doctor smacked his own thigh lightly, signaling the conversation was over. “I’ll be back to check on them late this evening.”
Az didn’t know if it was the pain medication making him feel this rush of euphoria, or if the lack of pain itself was bringing on the sensation, but the relief made him laugh, and the sound brought Madi’s attention back to him. “I like when you look at me,” Az said. “It’s like the sun has come out from behind the clouds.”
“Oh, wow. That Dilaudid works quick.” Madi’s lips quirked. “Do you feel better now?”
“When I am in your arms, I always feel better.” Az was unable to stop the silly grin from spreading across his face. “I hope to die here someday…in your arms…when we’re both old and can no longer walk without assistance.”
“You’re high as a damn weather balloon. You should probably stop talking.”
Az’s laugh sounded foreign to him, but he didn’t care, he was just so relieved. “I wasn’t sure you were going to take the shot. I had hoped that you understood it was the only way to save us both, but I was afraid you didn’t understand. I knew if I died you would blame yourself…”
Madi tsked and caressed Az’s face with a cool hand. “If there had been any other way, I wouldn’t have done it. There was no guarantee it was going to work. Bullets are funny things, it could have gone so wrong. It could have ricocheted back into your heart or your lungs. It’s blind luck that it just exited under your armpit. I could’ve lost you.”
“Careful. Somebody might think you love me.”
“Idolove you,” Madi insisted as if offended.
Az exhaled a loopy chuckle that was as much from Madi’s declaration as the grumpy way he said it. “My eyes are heavy,jaanum. I just need twenty minutes before we try to question Eastman.”
“Sleep. Eastman’s not going anywhere.”
Az shifted to a more comfortable position, sighing when Madi continued to comb his fingers through his damp locks.
“Jaanum,” Madigan echoed musingly.
“My life,” Az muttered as he drifted off to sleep, suspecting Madigan already knew what it meant.
* * *
When he woke again,the night sky was pitch black except for the lights of the city outside the window. He was no longer on the couch but in bed. Alone. He was also no longer in the black tactical pants he’d worn for the mission, but the soft gray pants he’d worn to bed the night before the raid. He sat up with effort, wincing at the way his wound seemed to throb in time with his heartbeat. The bandage just under his armpit was irritating, but he left it as it was and went to the bathroom to relieve himself before walking out to find Madi standing there with his hands on his hips.