Page 118 of The Night Shift

His whole body convulses in pain, but Theo doesn’t let go. He methodically gathers the bloodied, severed fingers, and does exactly what he said he would. He forces his jaw open and shoves them down his throat.

Then without hesitation, he reaches for a broken brick lying nearby and holds his jaw shut. He brings it down with a sickening crack against the man’s head. Blood spatters, and his body goes limp, slumping to the ground in a lifeless heap.

There’s zero hesitation in his eyes. Zero remorse. Theo Carter just killed a man. For me.

A heavy breath leaves my mouth. Theo finally looks at me, his eyes softening immediately. “Holly, are you all right?” He rushes to my side to help me up.

I flinch before I can stop myself.

Theo freezes mid-step. Slowly, he raises his hands, palms open, like he’s coaxing a stray cat to trust him. “May I?” His voice is barely above a whisper.

I swallow hard. Pain shoots up my thigh, sharp and biting, and I wince, biting back a curse.

He doesn’t wait for an answer this time. He steps in, his arms looping firmly but carefully around my waist. His hold is steady, deliberate, and he lifts me like I weigh nothing, adjusting so the injured side of my leg is away from his body.

The gesture is automatically protective. I see the tight line of his jaw as he sets me down for only a moment, shrugging his coat off my shoulders, spreading it over the dusty, jagged surface of the operating table. He picks me up again and gently seats me on the makeshift cushion, his fingers brushing my arm briefly as he steadies me.

“I’m going to need to have a look at your thigh.” He kneels in front of me, lifting my leg carefully and resting it on his shoulder, then looks up, silently asking for consent.

Behind him, the dead body twitches on the floor, blood pooling from its shattered skull.

I nod.

Face covered in blood, Theo unzips my left boot, sliding it off carefully and placing it to the side. “Okay, so it isn’t very deep. No sutures needed. But I do need to stop the bleeding.”

With what?

He reaches for the dangling part of his coat and rips a clean strip from the lining.

Oh.

“This might hurt a bit.” He takes my hand and threads it gently through the top of his curls. “Pull if it gets too much, yeah?”

My eyes widen, and I open my mouth to protest, but he just smirks. “It’s all right, love. I like it.”

Before I can even process what he just said, he gets to work, wrapping the strip of cloth tightly around my thigh. The sting hits instantly — sharp and unforgiving. It burns like hell. I tugon his hair, my fingers gripping harder than I mean to. Theo groans, low and deep, but the sound doesn’t carry even a hint of pain.

His movements are methodical. Each pull of the cloth feels like it’s setting my skin on fire, but soon the sharp sting fades into a dull, throbbing ache. I keep glancing at the corpse to distract myself. The man’s skull is caved in. Blood seeps thick and slow from the wound, mixing with the gray matter oozing from the gash. His fingers are severed at the knuckles, the exposed tendons curling inward like dying worms.

Theo ties a secure knot just above my wound, stabilizing the pressure. “There we go. All done.” He presses a quick kiss to my knee before slipping my boot back on and lowering my leg. Then he stands and offers me a bloodied hand. “Carry you to the car?”

I respond with three quick smacks to his shoulder. “What. The hell. Iswrongwith you?!”

“Ow, ow, ow! What did I do this time?”

I push myself off the operating table and shove him back against the wall. “I told you not to follow me inside!”

He keeps rubbing his shoulder, staring at me like I’ve gone insane. “Can we at least wait until I’ve cleaned another man’s blood off my face before you start yelling at me?”

“I was supposed to do thisalone!”

“He was going to kill you.” Theo points to the body to my right.

“I was handling it!”

His eyes trail over my legs. “Fuck, those boots really take the sting out of getting yelled at.”

I punch his arm.