Cabin of Axes - Bea Paige Page 0,37

towards the sink.

“That might be true, but I’d like to do that again. Do you have a problem with that?”

He grits his jaw but doesn’t respond, and I take that as his permission and set to work. Pouring the solution over the wound, I’m glad to see that it’s already stopped bleeding and is beginning to coagulate. Mathieson sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Motherfucker that stings,” he exclaims.

Berrin chuckles. “Don’t be such a baby, Matt.”

“Fuck you, arsewipe. You haven’t got a three inch gash on your hand,” Mathieson retorts, cursing under his breath again as I gently inspect the wound, pulling at the edges of flesh to ensure there isn’t any deeper damage. There isn’t, fortunately.

“Ow, shit!” Mathieson winces.

“Sorry,” I respond. “You’re lucky it’s just a flesh wound. A few centimetres over and the tendons and muscle would have been severed. An operation would’ve been a necessity otherwise you’d be left with no grip.”

“Man, you’re lucky. Isn’t that your wanking hand?” Berrin asks, his lips wobbling with mirth. Franklin scoffs and I bite my lip to stop from smiling.

“Fuck off!” Mathieson snaps. “Instead of getting your laughs from watching me, why don’t you go and make yourself useful and get me the whisky? I could use a damn drink…”

Berrin walks off, his shoulders shaking as he holds in his laughter. Franklin manages to keep a lid on his as he watches me guide Mathieson to the kitchen island and take one final look at the wound just to double check.

“Fuck’s sake. That hurts.”

“Rest your hand on the counter please. Let’s get this sewn up,” I say firmly.

“I thought nurses were supposed to be gentle, sweet creatures?” Mathieson mutters.

I laugh, settling onto the stool next to him and twisting my body so that our knees are almost touching. “I promise to be as gentle as I can, but if you’ve ever experienced getting stitches without anaesthesia then you know it’s going to hurt, right?”

“Hence the whisky,” Berrin interrupts, handing Mathieson the uncapped bottle. We all watch him knock back a triple shot before handing the bottle back to Berrin who takes a generous gulp himself.

“Can I help in any way?” Franklin asks, giving Berrin a shake of his head when he’s offered the whisky too.

“You could make some tea,” I suggest, giving him a half smile whilst I remove the sterile needle and thread. “Don’t forget the spoonful of honey.”

“I never forget the honey. We could all do with some sweetening up.” Franklin responds, and I can’t help but catch the odd look in his eyes and the slight edge to his voice.

“Ain’t that the truth. Mathieson’s as salty as they come,” Berrin remarks, dodging the First Aid box that Mathieson suddenly picks up with his free hand and chucks at his head. Berrin roars with laughter whilst Mathieson lets out a stream of curse words that I can’t help but chuckle at.

For the next twenty minutes, I carefully sew up the wound on Mathieson’s palm. Berrin makes himself scarce and Franklin busies himself in the kitchen. I don’t pay much attention to what he’s doing, concentrating instead on making the stitches neat to try and prevent unsightly scarring. By the time I’ve finished, Mathieson has a neatly sewn wound wrapped up in a bandage.

“There, all done,” I say, carefully wrapping up the used needle and discarding it alongside the excess thread and gloves in the trash.

“Thank you…” His voice trails off as I slowly lift my gaze to meet his, my fingers lingering on the warmth of his wrist.

“What?” I ask softly.

“Nothing…” He swipes his hand through his hair then bites his bottom lip before releasing it with a faint smile. “I guess I should say thank you.”

“Okay.” I wait.

“So… thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Mathieson’s gaze flicks from my lips to my eyes and back again and I can feel heat bloom underneath my skin. Beneath Berrin’s t-shirt my nipples pebble as he leans towards me and cups my face, his thumb running over my cheekbone. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Did it hurt, to remember?”

“Hurt…? No, it didn’t hurt.”

“But yesterday you were in pain. The way you felt… that hurt you, didn’t it? You cried…”

“Matt, let it go,” Franklin says from behind me. Out of the corner of my eye he places a cup of black tea on the counter and slides it towards me, but he doesn’t step away. In fact, I can feel his heat penetrate my back through my t-shirt he’s so close. I swallow