Siren's Mark

Chapter 61

⚠️ Trigger Warning: This chapter contains graphic violence.

𝔸𝕧𝕒

I pause for a moment in front of the bathroom mirror. A small bruise is forming on my cheek beside a wide abrasion.

I look like I lost a fight with a cheese grater.

"We should take care of that," Zane says from the doorway, his eyes soft but plagued with guilt.

He reaches into the cabinet and pulls out the first aid kit, grabbing a handful of equipment.

"I'm sorry, this is probably going to hurt," he says, bringing an alcohol wipe to the wound.

As he brushes it across my face, the alcohol stings each and every nerve while I try not to cringe.

Ow fuck fuck fuck.

Stupid face. Stupid cut. Stupid Zane with his stupid alcohol trying to save me from stupid germs so I don't get a stupid infection.

"You're making that face you make when you want to kill me," Zane says with a smile.

"I don't want to kill you," I say. "Okay, maybe a little bit. That crap burns."

"Yeah, I know," he says, rubbing his cheek.

Oh, that's right... he could feel that too.

Not gonna lie, it does somehow feel better knowing that someone else has to suffer your pain too. That probably makes me a bad person, but it's just the truth.

He applies a bandage with an extra-gentle touch.

"You're a pretty good doctor, you know that?" I say.

"Well, I was a medic for a while, way back when."

"What?" I ask. "What kind of medic? When?"

"For Her Majesty's army," he says with a smirk. "About 80 years ago or so."

It's moments like these I remember I'm not having a sane, normal, human conversation and this is—in fact—totally batshit crazy.

"A lot of the first aid stuff holds up, but technological advances have changed a lot. At this point, I just know the very basics."

"Yeah, you're not into much newfangled technology, are you gramps?" I tease. "I still haven't gotten you to figure out video chat."

He wraps his arms around me and carries me to the bed.

"Hilarious, as always," he says sarcastically, lying himself down beside me and smiling. His expression falls as he inspects the bandage on my cheek.

I can tell by his expression he's feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner," he says, lightly stroking my cheek.

"It's okay," I say. "Kieran got there in time. I'm alright."

His face twists and tenses at the mention of Kieran's name.

"You should talk to him," I say.

"Why?" he asks. "What could he possibly say to me that would justify attacking my girlfriend in her sleep?"

"I... I don't know," I say with a sigh. "But something here isn't adding up. You need to sit down and talk. You know, the thing you do with your voice and not your fists?"

He rolls his eyes at me.

"Would you be so quick to forgive if his victim were me? Or Jen?" he asks, tension rising in his voice.