She spoke quietly, pale beneath the usual warm olive of her skin. “What can we do?”
He set the washcloth down on the nightstand and cracked open the first aid kit, then shook his head. “I’ll clean the wounds with what we’ve got here, get some bandages on, but he’s going to need something better than that. Butterfly bandages at the very least. Stitches would be better. And antibiotics.”
“There’s an urgent-care place a few blocks down the road.” Lauren’s voice came from the doorway, and I turned slightly to see her standing there, pretty features strained, although I could tell from the almost unnatural calm in her voice that she was doing her best to maintain her composure. “I’ll send someone over. Just let me know what you need.”
As Lauren spoke, Miguel was cleaning Aidan’s wounds with
