Chapter 9
James was just walking in. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?” he asked over his shoulder.
“No, this is Tom’s blood.”
“Well…” James came to a halt as he took in Tom’s appearance. “Holy mother of God!”
“‘ot a ‘ood…” He made an impatient sound, set aside the ice, and scribbled on the notepad.
“‘Not a good reaction from one’s doctor’? Asshole. Get in the kitchen. The light should be better in there.”
“‘es, ‘octor.” Tom followed him into the kitchen.
“And shut up. I have no patience trying to decipher what you’re trying to say. Sit.” He pointed Tom to a chair and rolled up his sleeves, then opened his medical bag and began to lay some items on the counter. Jack had already turned on the overhead light. “Thanks. So you’re Jack Jackson? Tom’s spoken of you.”
“He has?” Jack stood be
