actually.”
Vaughn moves his completely motionless shoulder in an odd wiggle and at the gesture, Mollie hears Layla next to her, covering her mouth as though she may vomit. The joint of his shoulder is lowered and protrudes against the skin. Dislocated. Mollie would know what that looked like anywhere. How many times had a fight or drunken horseplay at the Compound resulted in this exact injury?
Despite her awkwardness with Vaughn the last time she saw him, Mollie knows how painful this injury is. She also knows that if it isn’t taken care of immediately, the treatment will be worse than the injury itself.
“You’ve done this before?” she asks Vaughn.
Despite his coolness to her earlier, Vaughn manages to look her in the eyes. “Yeah. I probably need surgery, but haven’t gotten around to it. I can pop it back.” But Mollie notices how hard Vaughn winces, how his bottom lip is trembling from sheer pain.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”
“It’s fine.” He takes a step back as she walks in front of him. “Besides, there isn’t any medical personnel here to take care of it.”
“Let me take you to the ER.” Collins nods toward the parking lot.
“Hell, no. It’s fine. I don’t need a doctor.”
“You can’t stay like that,” Collins tells him, but Vaughn isn’t watching him. Instead, Mollie notices that his eyes are focused on the large oak tree she and Layla had used for shade.
Mollie follows his gaze and then quickly looks back at him, understanding that he thinks slamming his body against the old tree would be an easy way to get his shoulder back into socket. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Nobody here can treat it,” he says, looking down at her. She walks up to him and tries to disregard how his eyes have lowered, how despite the pain, he’s looking at her like he’d very much like to devour her. Though, she thinks, that could just be the mind numbing pain.
“I can.” She doesn’t return his smile when he laughs. “Something funny?”
“What do you weigh, one-ten? No thanks, little one, I can do it myself.”
Mollie doesn’t think it would be wise to punch an already injured man, but it’s difficult to remember that when he’s looking at her like she’s an eight year old asking a classmate if he wants to play doctor.
“Right. Enough of the G.I. Joe bullshit.” She looks at Declan, then to Donovan. “Take him down, boys.” And in an instant, both men have wrestled Vaughn to the ground flat on his back. He begins to fight them, to get their hands and arms away from him, but the pain must strike him fast; his winces and low curses tell Mollie that the pain is cresting.
When she straddles his waist, Vaughn’s protests slow to mild complaints. Around them, the players back off, giving Mollie room to work.
“Fine.” His voice is nothing more than a growl, “but if you’re going to do this be sure you get your knee in…”
“Hey, Semper Fi, shut it.” Mollie’s bare legs move along his ribs, dragging his shirt with them so that her smooth skin slides against his body. She rests her hands on the ground around his head, hovering just above him. There’s a small blink of time where she catches Vaughn’s eyes and they stare at each other, their breaths heating between their open mouths. “I know what I’m doing so can the instructions.” Vaughn wets his lips, eyes drifting down to her chest which is only millimeters from his mouth before he focuses back at her face. “This isn’t my first time.”
Despite the pain and the awkward tension building in front of their small audience, Vaughn manages a smile. “Well, will you be gentle?”
“No.” Mollie climbs onto Vaughn’s chest, lifting her knee just below the dislocated shoulder. Before she pushes her leg up, she leans down, catching a whiff of his sweat-slick skin to whisper just above his mouth. “Baby, I’m always good, but I ain’t never gentle.”
Vaughn hates hospitals. They always remind
Vaughn moves his completely motionless shoulder in an odd wiggle and at the gesture, Mollie hears Layla next to her, covering her mouth as though she may vomit. The joint of his shoulder is lowered and protrudes against the skin. Dislocated. Mollie would know what that looked like anywhere. How many times had a fight or drunken horseplay at the Compound resulted in this exact injury?
Despite her awkwardness with Vaughn the last time she saw him, Mollie knows how painful this injury is. She also knows that if it isn’t taken care of immediately, the treatment will be worse than the injury itself.
“You’ve done this before?” she asks Vaughn.
Despite his coolness to her earlier, Vaughn manages to look her in the eyes. “Yeah. I probably need surgery, but haven’t gotten around to it. I can pop it back.” But Mollie notices how hard Vaughn winces, how his bottom lip is trembling from sheer pain.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”
“It’s fine.” He takes a step back as she walks in front of him. “Besides, there isn’t any medical personnel here to take care of it.”
“Let me take you to the ER.” Collins nods toward the parking lot.
“Hell, no. It’s fine. I don’t need a doctor.”
“You can’t stay like that,” Collins tells him, but Vaughn isn’t watching him. Instead, Mollie notices that his eyes are focused on the large oak tree she and Layla had used for shade.
Mollie follows his gaze and then quickly looks back at him, understanding that he thinks slamming his body against the old tree would be an easy way to get his shoulder back into socket. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Nobody here can treat it,” he says, looking down at her. She walks up to him and tries to disregard how his eyes have lowered, how despite the pain, he’s looking at her like he’d very much like to devour her. Though, she thinks, that could just be the mind numbing pain.
“I can.” She doesn’t return his smile when he laughs. “Something funny?”
“What do you weigh, one-ten? No thanks, little one, I can do it myself.”
Mollie doesn’t think it would be wise to punch an already injured man, but it’s difficult to remember that when he’s looking at her like she’s an eight year old asking a classmate if he wants to play doctor.
“Right. Enough of the G.I. Joe bullshit.” She looks at Declan, then to Donovan. “Take him down, boys.” And in an instant, both men have wrestled Vaughn to the ground flat on his back. He begins to fight them, to get their hands and arms away from him, but the pain must strike him fast; his winces and low curses tell Mollie that the pain is cresting.
When she straddles his waist, Vaughn’s protests slow to mild complaints. Around them, the players back off, giving Mollie room to work.
“Fine.” His voice is nothing more than a growl, “but if you’re going to do this be sure you get your knee in…”
“Hey, Semper Fi, shut it.” Mollie’s bare legs move along his ribs, dragging his shirt with them so that her smooth skin slides against his body. She rests her hands on the ground around his head, hovering just above him. There’s a small blink of time where she catches Vaughn’s eyes and they stare at each other, their breaths heating between their open mouths. “I know what I’m doing so can the instructions.” Vaughn wets his lips, eyes drifting down to her chest which is only millimeters from his mouth before he focuses back at her face. “This isn’t my first time.”
Despite the pain and the awkward tension building in front of their small audience, Vaughn manages a smile. “Well, will you be gentle?”
“No.” Mollie climbs onto Vaughn’s chest, lifting her knee just below the dislocated shoulder. Before she pushes her leg up, she leans down, catching a whiff of his sweat-slick skin to whisper just above his mouth. “Baby, I’m always good, but I ain’t never gentle.”
Vaughn hates hospitals. They always remind
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