here. You know it is.
I turn and punch the wall, needing to get my frustration out. My chest heaves as I look at the hole I’ve created. I’ll have to patch that up when I get back. A glance at my knuckles pulls a curse from my lips.
I start for my bathroom to clean my hand up, but the doorbell rings. Muttering to myself, I start for the door instead. When I open it, Noah stands before me.
“What happened to your hand?”
“Nothing,” I mumble.
“Sure doesn’t look like nothing,” he says, reaching for my right hand and lifting it to inspect. “Where’s your first aid kit? I can get this cleaned up before Wyatt gets here. You can talk while I patch.”
“I’m fine,” I say, snatching my hand back.
He pushes into my house heading for the kitchen. “I said get the kit.”
I glare at his back. Wyatt and Noah have always bossed me around. Today’s one of these days I’m considering kicking his ass over it.
“I can hear you thinking. Get put on your back if you want. I’ll carry your ass to the car after a fix you up and put you onto the plane if I have to,” he calls over his shoulder.
“What are you doing here anyway? And why didn’t you use your key.”
“Felt like spending some time with my little brother before this mission. I think it’s time we all start ringing doorbells. Last thing I want is to see your pale ass in the air.”
“Whatever.” I snort.
“Let’s get your head clear.”
I groan. That’s code for he thinks I need to talk it out. I’m not ready to talk. Talking is only going to piss me off more.
I make my way to my bedroom bathroom and collect the first aid kit. When I saunter into the kitchen with it, Noah has a sandwich made and is already scarfing it down. When he sees me coming, he brushes his hands off and waves me over to the nook area of my kitchen where he’s sitting.
“Don’t you have food at home?”
“Sure do, but I figured I’d help you out. This stuff will spoil while you’re away.”
“That’s why I planned to eat it before Wyatt gets here.”
“Oops. Shit was good though.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Besides, there’s plenty left.”
I chuckle because he’s right. There was too much for me to polish off on my own. I had planned to make sandwiches for the flight.
“Dick,” I mutter.
He grunts. “You can have it back if you like. It’ll even be nice and piping hot.”
I give him the finger with my good hand. He takes the busted one and slaps a bag of ice that he had at his side on it. Grabbing the kit that I placed on the table, Noah opens it up and starts to pull out supplies.
He removes the ice, looks my hand over, and frowns. “You better be able to shoot when we need you,” he says.
“I’ll be fine. It’s not that bad.”
He grunts again and mumbles something to himself. “You want to talk?”
“No.”
“Figured you’d say that.”
“You want to talk about what’s going on with Bean?”
He lifts his gaze to mine. I lift a brow, causing him to roll his eyes. Yet he nods his head and drops the suggestion.
“Keep the ice on it. It’s swelling but the cuts aren’t deep at all. Plaster?” He nods to the dust on my wrist.
“Yeah, will fix it when I get back.”
“I hate when you bottle things up, but I’ll give you your space. Just know I’m here. And the only reason I don’t want to talk about Rebecca is because I’m not going to be able to resolve that shit until we get back and I’m already anxious about it,” he says.
“Fair enough and thanks. This is something I’ll resolve then too. For now, I want to focus on what we’re walking into.”
“Have you thought about this? What we’re getting ready to do?”
“Yeah, I have.”
“I don’t know how it all sits with me. I get what Sam and Bobby are trying to do, but it feels like we might be trading prisons if you ask me,” he says.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I’ve thought the same thing, but if we leave them where they are, there’s no telling what will happen to them. I think the options they have planned for them will be a hell of a lot better than where they are now.”
“This is true. Nate did say he has an alternate plan for those that don’t