thing that would explain why he’d want her to take out the bullet with a pair of pliers.
She took the pliers from him and set them down on the counter. “Hunter, you have to stop this! You have to let me take you to the hospital. You could die if I don’t.”
“I’m not going to die from the bullet,” he told her. “But I will be in for a whole lot of pain if you don’t get it out. Eliza, I need you to trust me on this. Everything will be fine if you just follow my directions. If you won’t do it, then I’ll have to.” He picked up the pliers and held them out to her.
Eliza stared at the pliers. He couldn’t be serious. But from the expression on his face, it was obvious he was. She wanted to refuse, to insist that he go to the hospital, but she knew that if she did, Hunter would only try to dig the bullet out himself, and she wasn’t big enough to stop him. Without being able to see what he was doing, he would just end up making a mess of it. But still…
Hunter gently cupped her cheek. “You can do this, Eliza. I know you can.”
She gazed up into his gold eyes, saw the trust in them reflected back at her. Oh God, she couldn’t believe she was really going to do this. Shrugging out of her coat, she tossed it on the vanity, and then reached for the pliers.
“Shouldn’t we sterilize these or something?” she asked.
He gave her a wry smile. “I don’t think it matters. It’s not like the bullet was sterilized.”
That was true. She took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. Without the towel there to stop it, blood had started to run down his chest again.
“Even if I do manage to get the bullet out, you’re still going to need stitches, you know,” she said. “And I’m telling you right now, there is no way I’m going to stitch you up. I completely flunked the sewing portion of home economics in school.”
His mouth quirked. “Stitches won’t be necessary.”
Eliza wasn’t sure what he meant by that, and right then, she was almost afraid to ask. Placing a trembling hand on his chest to steady herself, she lifted the pliers, but then hesitated. What the heck was she doing? She didn’t know the first thing about removing a bullet!
The wound was blackened and ragged around the edges; just looking at it made her feel queasy. It made her think back to that frog in biology class. She’d been lousy at that subject, too.
When she hesitated, Hunter wrapped his hand around hers and guided it toward the gunshot wound. “Just go straight in. You’ll find it.”
Calling herself all kinds of stupid for doing this, Eliza slowly slid the tips of the pliers into the opening of the wound. The moment she did, the jagged hole began to bleed more freely. Hunter flinched, but only gritted his teeth.
Her eyes flew to his face. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re doing great,” he said. “Keep going. And don’t forget to open the pliers up or you’ll just push the bullet deeper. It’s not far now.”
His definition of “not far” was obviously different than hers because it seemed like it took forever for her to find the bullet. She already had the pliers in almost to the joint and the wound was bleeding fiercely now. Oh God, she was going to be sick!
“Just a little farther,” he said softly.
She glanced up at him. “A little farther? Are you crazy? How do you even know where it is?”
He grimaced. “Trust me, I know. You’re close.”
She was about to protest, but just then she felt the tips of the pliers touch something. She swore she could almost hear them clink against something metallic.
“That’s it,” Hunter said.
Eliza hesitated. “Are you sure?” she said. “What if it’s something else? Something important?” Like bone.
He clenched his jaw. “It’s not. Just close down carefully and pull back.”
She did as he told her, her head starting to swim as more blood gushed out. But the pliers slid out a lot faster than they had gone in, and a moment later she was
She took the pliers from him and set them down on the counter. “Hunter, you have to stop this! You have to let me take you to the hospital. You could die if I don’t.”
“I’m not going to die from the bullet,” he told her. “But I will be in for a whole lot of pain if you don’t get it out. Eliza, I need you to trust me on this. Everything will be fine if you just follow my directions. If you won’t do it, then I’ll have to.” He picked up the pliers and held them out to her.
Eliza stared at the pliers. He couldn’t be serious. But from the expression on his face, it was obvious he was. She wanted to refuse, to insist that he go to the hospital, but she knew that if she did, Hunter would only try to dig the bullet out himself, and she wasn’t big enough to stop him. Without being able to see what he was doing, he would just end up making a mess of it. But still…
Hunter gently cupped her cheek. “You can do this, Eliza. I know you can.”
She gazed up into his gold eyes, saw the trust in them reflected back at her. Oh God, she couldn’t believe she was really going to do this. Shrugging out of her coat, she tossed it on the vanity, and then reached for the pliers.
“Shouldn’t we sterilize these or something?” she asked.
He gave her a wry smile. “I don’t think it matters. It’s not like the bullet was sterilized.”
That was true. She took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. Without the towel there to stop it, blood had started to run down his chest again.
“Even if I do manage to get the bullet out, you’re still going to need stitches, you know,” she said. “And I’m telling you right now, there is no way I’m going to stitch you up. I completely flunked the sewing portion of home economics in school.”
His mouth quirked. “Stitches won’t be necessary.”
Eliza wasn’t sure what he meant by that, and right then, she was almost afraid to ask. Placing a trembling hand on his chest to steady herself, she lifted the pliers, but then hesitated. What the heck was she doing? She didn’t know the first thing about removing a bullet!
The wound was blackened and ragged around the edges; just looking at it made her feel queasy. It made her think back to that frog in biology class. She’d been lousy at that subject, too.
When she hesitated, Hunter wrapped his hand around hers and guided it toward the gunshot wound. “Just go straight in. You’ll find it.”
Calling herself all kinds of stupid for doing this, Eliza slowly slid the tips of the pliers into the opening of the wound. The moment she did, the jagged hole began to bleed more freely. Hunter flinched, but only gritted his teeth.
Her eyes flew to his face. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re doing great,” he said. “Keep going. And don’t forget to open the pliers up or you’ll just push the bullet deeper. It’s not far now.”
His definition of “not far” was obviously different than hers because it seemed like it took forever for her to find the bullet. She already had the pliers in almost to the joint and the wound was bleeding fiercely now. Oh God, she was going to be sick!
“Just a little farther,” he said softly.
She glanced up at him. “A little farther? Are you crazy? How do you even know where it is?”
He grimaced. “Trust me, I know. You’re close.”
She was about to protest, but just then she felt the tips of the pliers touch something. She swore she could almost hear them clink against something metallic.
“That’s it,” Hunter said.
Eliza hesitated. “Are you sure?” she said. “What if it’s something else? Something important?” Like bone.
He clenched his jaw. “It’s not. Just close down carefully and pull back.”
She did as he told her, her head starting to swim as more blood gushed out. But the pliers slid out a lot faster than they had gone in, and a moment later she was
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