Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Careful not to wake everyone, I quickly pull on my clothes and shoes. By the time I finish, Kellen’s steady breathing has gone still. When I glance at him, his eyes are open and he watches me. Warmth tickles through me, chasing away the last of my chill. Before the dive and all hell broke loose, I’d felt the sparking attraction between us. I thought, perhaps, he was putting off gay vibes, but it wasn’t until we starting flirting that I confirmed it.
Kellen is so not my type. Hell, he’s probably as old as my dad would be if he were still alive. I’m not looking for a sugar daddy. He’s good-looking, though, in a classically handsome sort of way. Ruffled and now sporting a little scruff on his cheeks, he’s more real and attainable than he was when I first met him.
A little flirting at the end of the world never hurt anyone…
No, our fucked-up situation does that all by itself. I mean, sharks? Who’d have thought they’d be in the damn building. I sure as hell didn’t. Seeing Brian’s dead eyes and torn flesh will haunt me for a long time. And losing Frannie? That one especially hurt. I wasn’t strong enough to save her.
Now that I’m fully dressed again, I take in Kellen’s appearance. His jaw is tight and I can see the muscles in his neck are flexed. He’s in pain.
Fuck.
I was so exhausted after today’s hellish event that I completely forgot about his injury.
“Did you have anyone look at your wound?” I croak out, voice hoarse as though I’ve been screaming for hours straight. I suppose almost drowning will do that to you.
He gives me a slight shake of his head. “Everyone’s been sleeping.”
I scan the landing where the seven of us have crowded onto. Beside Kellen is my backpack. It’s no longer filled with the water bottles, which must have been transferred to the trash bag, and once again houses my belongings. I reach over and pull it into my lap. Unzipping it, I discover the first aid kit and my flashlight sitting on top.
“Here, hold this,” I instruct to Kellen after I switch on the flashlight.
He takes hold of the light, fingers brushing over mine. I like that his fingertips feel slightly rough for someone who probably never did a day of hard labor in his life. It goes with his whole “rugged survivor” vibe he has going on.
“At least it’s not a shitty kit,” I say as I turn the first aid box over in my hands. “It’s not waterproof but still shrink-wrapped in its original packaging. We’ll get some use out of it.”
I tear into the packaging and toss it away. Flipping open the plastic case, I take note of the three-hundred-seventy-piece kit. It’ll be quite useful for properly sanitizing and dressing Kellen’s wound.
“Can you unbutton your shirt?” I ask as I pilfer through the box for what I’m looking for.
He grunts in response, setting the flashlight down on the floor so it points upward. Once he’s unbuttoned it, he lifts his undershirt to reveal the mess underneath. The makeshift tie bandage is gone and the sling portion rests on his taut stomach. I try to focus on the wound and not the fact his abs seem to be carved from stone. For a man of his age, he has quite the body.
“I need to clean it out first. This is probably going to hurt,” I warn him as I open one of the hand sanitizer packets to sanitize my hands. Then I don a pair of blue sterile gloves included in the pack. “Point the flashlight where I can see.”
The light dances across the stairwell before landing on his angry cut. It gapes open and leaks blood. Though it’s red around the edges, it doesn’t appear to be infected yet. The sooner we address this, the better. I tear open an alcohol pad and gently swipe around the cut. He hisses at the burn of it.
“I know,” I mutter. “This sucks. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” he says, voice low and tight with pain. “Thank you for…everything.”
His appreciation for something so simple as cleaning up his wound has uncomfortable heat burning my cheeks. In my family, we just do what needs doing because that’s the way it is. No one is sitting around waiting to be complimented for their efforts. His appreciation isn’t needed.
I use another alcohol pad to dab inside the wound a bit. It’s the best I can do with what I’ve got. There are also antibiotic ointment packs. I open one of those and make sure to squeeze the contents into the gaping hole just below his ribs. With a cotton-tip applicator, I smear it all around. Once it’s applied, I use some butterfly closures to keep the wound together. I then cover it with a gauze dressing bandage.