High Risk by G.K. Parks (thriller book recommendations txt) 📗

stitches, causing me to hiss, then she taped the plastic over them. “There.” She made sure the plastic on my shoulder was in place and gave the exposed cuts on my hands and arms a cursory look. “Those aren’t severe enough to worry about. Just make sure you keep them clean. We should probably bandage them up again once you’re dry, just so your clothes or sheets don’t rub off the scabs.”

“Yeah, okay. Whatever.” Now everything stung and throbbed.

“Hey, are you all right?”

“Not really.” I saw the concerned look on my friend’s face. “We’re getting close, but not close enough.”

“Does that have anything to do with why the assistant district attorney is in your living room?”

“No, that’s for a different case. I was supposed to be testifying in court this week.”

“Don’t tell me you still have to go?” Emma turned around to face the door, and I slipped out of my clothes and stepped into the shower.

Once I pulled the curtain closed, I said, “No, but Brad does.”

“And soldier boy couldn’t have gone over these details somewhere else?”

“He’s staying close.”

“Why?”

I didn’t say anything, hoping she’d think I didn’t hear her question over the running water. After much pain and cursing that came with trying to shampoo my hair with only one hand, I rinsed off as best I could, wrapped a towel around me, and stepped out of the shower. She checked my stitches to make sure nothing got wet that wasn’t supposed to and then took the hairdryer into my bedroom. Once I was dressed, I joined her.

“So that’s Logan?” She patted a spot on the bed, and I eased onto it. “He’s not what I pictured.”

“What did you picture?”

She turned the hairdryer on low and took the brush from my hand. “I’m not sure. Maybe one of those ambulance chasers we see on the backs of buses or doing those cheesy TV commercials late at night. You know the ones with the bald guys wearing ill-fitting suits or young, thin, pimply guys with oversized glasses and bad hair.”

“Em, I never described him like that.”

“You never described his looks at all.” She pulled the brush through my hair, and I gasped when it came in contact with my injured shoulder. The constant stinging turned into white-hot pain. She cringed. “Sorry.” She shifted the way she brushed from straight down to sweeping my hair toward the left.

“Stop, Em.” Even that slight motion pulled at my neck, and my eyes watered. It felt like I’d just been stabbed, and for a moment, I was back in the liquor store, on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, choking on my own blood, and struggling to breathe.

Immediately, she turned off the hairdryer and dropped the brush. “Liv?” She checked the wounds, but the stitches remained intact. I trembled, and she gently ran a hand up and down my spine. “Talk to me. Are you okay? Can you breathe?”

I swallowed, nodding.

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m okay.” I took a few deep breaths. “It just pulled, and that didn’t feel so good.” But I could see it in Emma’s eyes that she didn’t believe that was the entire story. “By the way, you’re fired as my hairdresser.”

“I never wanted the job anyway.”

“Good.”

“Do I still get a tip?” she teased as she grabbed her bag from my dresser and came back with fresh bandages and medical tape.

“Nope, and I’m not paying for the service either. If this was any other establishment, I’d ask to speak to the manager.” I winked at her, hiding my discomfort behind a few jokes.

“You should come back to the house tonight. Brad and Logan have turned this place into a man-cave. Have you seen the whiteboard they put in the living room or the stuff they taped on the door?”

“Yeah.”

“Do they really need all of that for court?”

“I guess they’re practicing going over the exhibits,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t realize I was lying. I’d spent years perfecting the skill undercover, but Emma was practically my sister. We’d been inseparable since age sixteen. But my answer satisfied her. “Plus, I have two patrol units monitoring the apartment. They already did a perimeter check. They’re used to my neighbors. I don’t want to complicate matters for them.”

“Then why don’t you tell Brad to go home and I’ll stay here with the guard pup?” She jerked her chin toward Gunnie, who’d fallen asleep in my laundry basket after his dinner and walk.

“Brad can go home anytime he wants. I didn’t ask him to stay.”

“But he’s staying anyway.”

“He’s my partner.”

“Right.” Emma looked skeptical. “What does his girlfriend think about this?”

“Carrie’s not his girlfriend.”

“Well, what does his friend with benefits think about this?”

“There’s nothing to think about. He’s watching my back.”

“From where I’m sitting, he needs to do a better job.”

I sighed, and Emma gave me a hug. “Don’t forget to take your antibiotics before bed. I brought over another bottle of OTC painkillers in case you’re running low. Just try to take it easy on them. They come with risks too.”

“I know.”

“Have you heard from your parents?”

“Not yet. At first, I was relieved, but now I’m a little worried. Is that weird?”

“I’ll admit it’s strange not talking to your mom every day. But I don’t think you have reason to worry. They’re across the world on a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean.”

“Those sound like reasons to worry.”

“Don’t. I’m sure you’re right about their cell phones. You know they’d have knocked down your door by now if they’d heard what had happened. And if something happened on the cruise, it’d be all over the news. They’re fine. Just out of cell range. Enjoy the reprieve while it lasts.”

“Yeah, I’ll try.”

She scooted Gunnie out of the laundry basket