I laughed hoarsely then cried out as he probed my wound “f**k!” I cursed.
“Sorry, sorry. There it is. Let’s get it out.” He tugged gently and the pain was intense, I could hear the whine escape from my throat.
“There,” he said, his voice quiet and calm. “I got it.”
I closed my eyes, the pain ebbing. “Is it bad?”
“It’s not great,” he admitted. “you’re going to be sore.”
“Ya think” the sarcasm dripping from my pain-laced voice.
He grinned.
He turned to the nurse and spoke quietly. I closed my eyes, my body relaxing.
“There,” he said, his voice cheerful. “All done.”
I opened my eyes and saw him holding up a bloodied bullet.
“This is what caused the trouble,” he said, his voice dry.
“Holy s**t,” I said, my voice a whisper. He grinned.
“Yes,” he said, chuckling. He carefully bandage
