Going Under (Wildfire Lake 2)

But that won’t happen if I can’t figure out how the hell to get my arm out of here without making things worse. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What are you doing?” Laiyla’s voice coincides with the click of her heels on the dock.

“I thought you left for dinner with Levi already.”

“He’s on his way. Why are you all contorted like that?”

“I’m trying to find the source of a knock that’s driving me insane.”

She bends to look into the compartment. “How did you even get your arm in there?”

I lean my shoulder against the deck and use my free hand to point. “Hold this lever up, please. But be careful. I’d rather not have both of us stuck in here.”

While Laiyla reaches in and presses against the metal lever that’s trapping my arm, I use my other hand to help maneuver my injured arm from the compartment. When I’m free, I sit back on my heels and inspect my arm, and shit, it’s worse than I thought. A long, deep cut bleeds along my forearm. My first thought is that when I go into the emergency room, they’re going to think I was trying to commit suicide.

“Well, shit,” I mutter.

“Oh my God.” Laiyla pulls out her phone. “I’m calling 9-1-1.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Chloe is suddenly beside me, silent on bare feet. “You need stitches.”

“Just what I want to do tonight.”

Headlights appear in the parking lot.

“That’s Levi,” Laiyla says, standing. “Come on, we’ll take you.”

“I’ll finished getting dressed,” Chloe says, “and meet you there.”

I hate all the fuss, but I’ve learned it’s easier to just accept it than to try to stop it.

“Grab me one of those rags,” I tell Laiyla, who can’t take her eyes off the wound. Even under the colored lights, I see her face go pale. “Stop looking, or you’ll puke.”

She picks up several rags I have lying nearby. “These can’t be clean.”

“I just pulled them from the wash. They’re just stained.”

“If they’re stained, by definition they can’t be clean.”

I roll my eyes and grab the one she’s inspecting with a scowl.

“Don’t bitch to me when you get tetanus,” she says.

When I stand, I’m surprised by light-headedness. I’ve certainly been through worse. A few more stitches in me should be a walk in the park. I’m grateful when Laiyla takes me by the arm and leads me toward Levi’s truck.

“She needs to go to the ER,” Laiyla tells Levi.

He assesses me. “The ER? On Christmas Eve? You have shit timing, Rivers.”

“Suck it, Asher.” Levi’s become like a big brother to me. He’s the contractor on the renovation, and I’m handling all the mechanical issues in the marina, so we’re always in each other’s space. Luckily, we get along. Mostly.

Once we’re on the road to the ER, Levi looks across Laiyla to me. “I bet you heard Santa’s gonna be at the hospital tonight. You just want to scope out the presents.”

I huff a laugh. “Maybe he’ll have some common sense for me this year.”

“I’m thinking you’re more likely to get lockjaw from that disgusting towel,” Laiyla says.