Lifting my sleeve, he examines the small puncture wound on my arm and the one higher up on my shoulder.
I stare at him in confusion at first. Jacob is knifed to the wall and he finds it hilarious… Yet he’s trying to take care of me?
What the fuck?
Did I suffer some brain damage while I was out? Because again, none of this makes any sense…
When Lucifer’s icy blue eyes lift to mine, demanding an answer, I reluctantly point at my back.
Frowning, Lucifer’s gaze roams over me then he says, “We’ll let James do that later.”
The reason why doesn’t click at first. But as soon as it does, as soon as I realize I’m still wearing nothing but James’s t-shirt, my cheeks burn like they’re on fire.
Yes, the shirt is as big as a dress on me, but still… This whole time, I’ve been in nothing but a t-shirt…
Lucifer twists open the bottle of antiseptic and I wrinkle my nose at the sharp smell. Even closer to puking everywhere now.
Grinning at my nose wrinkle, Lucifer says, “This might sting a little.”
I nod and brace myself for the pain that’s inevitable. Sure enough, as soon as the cold gauze touches the little puncture wounds, they immediately start stinging like crazy.
Hissing between my teeth, I try to focus on something else until the sting and burn fades away.
My eyes instantly search for James to see what he’s doing now.
Only to find him staring hard at Lucifer and me with a confused frown his face.
James starts to take a step toward us, then Trent lets out a low, gurgling moan.
Still bent forward, face against the floor, Trent was left alone. No one concerned he might try to get away or do something dangerous.
Jaw setting, James turns himself away from us and walks over to Trent with Johnathan and Uriel following behind him.
“Do you have any bandages in that bag of yours?” Lucifer asks Andrew, and I feel something dry dab against me.
“Of course,” Andrew answers and rummages around in his bag.
“Get him out of his vest and shirt then spread him out and keep him from moving for me,” James instructs Johnathan and Uriel.
Squatting down, James opens Simon’s surgical bag. Made of well-worn leather, the bag looks like it’s straight out of the 1800s.
“These should do the trick,” Andrew says and passes two Band-Aids over to Lucifer.
Trent lets out a hair-splitting scream as Johnathan grabs his left arm, the one still held together mostly by skin, to yank him upright.
Lucifer chuckles. “Hello Kitty, Andrew?”
“They’re Abigail’s favorite,” Andrew says tersely, sounding a little defensive.
“Fuck, he pissed himself,” Johnathan grumbles.
“Shit himself, too,” Uriel gags.
Holding my breath, I look away. Bile churns in my stomach like thick butter as the urge to vomit only grows stronger.
Lucifer carefully opens the Band-Aids, peeling them back as if he has a great deal of experience with them. “Evelyn’s favorite too, though she doesn’t own any other Hello Kitty things.”
“Abigail loves Hello Kitty,” Andrews says, more relaxed. “She had Amy and me redo her entire room in Hello Kitty.”
“Interesting,” Lucifer says as he applies the Band-Aids to my arm and shoulder. “No doubt Evelyn got her love for Hello Kitty from Abigail.”
“Please… please let him go… he didn’t hurt Sophia. He tried to protect her,” Jacob starts to plead from the wall. “I’m the one who tried to kill her. I’m the one who strangled her. Punish me.”
“You missed some stuff, Johnathan, while you were on lookout,” James says. “But did you know our boy Trent here was working with the Russians?”
“Yeah,” Johnathan answers, sounding like he’s trying not to breathe through his nose. “I remember you mentioning that with the whole laptop thing.”
“Ah, but did you know he knew about the Russians grabbing kids and women? Did you know he helped them do it?” James asks.
Again, my stomach drops, remembering that’s exactly what Dickers said in the car. He said Trent didn’t try to save anyone but me.
God, I still have nightmares of the other women. The women who weren’t saved.
I hear their whimpers of fear in my dreams… and at times, when I’m awake.
Sometimes, I wonder what happened to the red-haired woman beside me. A part of me wishes it could hope she made it out okay.
But I can’t.
Because I know in my very bones none of those other women are alive today. And the things they must have suffered before they died…
Trent shrieks before Johnathan says. “You don’t say…”
“Please, I beg you, please!” Jacob cries louder. “He’s a good boy, he doesn’t deserve this…”
James ignores Jacob. “He knew little boys and girls were being sold on the black market to sick fucking perverts, and he looked the other way for money. Probably even took a few missing kid reports himself and threw them in the trash. Fuck, for all we know, he could have done even more than that. I suppose we’ll see when we get into his personal shit.”