unForgivable (An inCapable World Novel Book 2) by Sara Hubbard Page A
Authors: Sara Hubbard
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delivered it. He turns and grabs a bag with a red cross on the side. With a quick unzip he’s dropping things onto the table. “Hold him down.”
Neither Carrie nor I move. He looks at Carrie first and then me before I come back to life, hurrying over to Mickey’s side. I stroke the side of his face. “It’ll be okay, Uncle Mickey. I promise.”
He jabs a needle in Mickey’s leg and Mickey doesn’t even flinch. “Help me roll him; I need to see if it went clear through.” Mickey groans in pain as we log roll him onto his side. Damien nods and says. “Okay, it went through. That’s good. We’ll just have to sew him up and hope to God it didn’t slice through anything important.”
“You think it did?” I say, gulping.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s pretty close to some major organs. If he lives, he’ll be lucky. You should have taken him to a doctor. His chances would be better.”
“I…” I can’t finish the sentence because I know he’s right. I know I should have, but Mickey always knows what’s best. I have to trust him, because dealing with this shit is so far out of my comfort zone but probably well within his.
While Damien rolls my uncle back onto his back, I hold my hands over Mickey’s ears to make sure he doesn’t smack his head. Damien jabs a needle into Mickey’s skin, a few inches from his gunshot wound. I wince as Mickey moans and I want to question Damien about what he’s doing and why, but then he pulls out a kit for stitching him up and lays out his equipment. The way he holds his tools and the thread… And the way he attacks Mickey’s wound… There’s no hesitation. Only confidence. He threads so quickly that I can’t follow his movements. His hands move like they’re dancing—lacing and threading. Before I know it, Mickey’s wound is closed tight and Damien is cleaning up the blood on Mickey’s stomach.
He leaves me speechless.
“Told you we could trust him.”
With my uncle, yeah, I’ll give her that. But with our lives? That remains to be seen.
“Thank you,” I finally say after letting go of a deep breath. Tears spring to my eyes. This is going to work. I did the right thing. He’s going to live...because of Damien. I want this to be true and yet part of me still worries. I may still lose him. The thought shakes me and a sob threatens to bulldoze through my body.
Bilskis don’t cry. Not ever. I’ll be strong for Mickey, because he needs me to be and because I don’t want to be weak. I want to be strong like my aunt, stronger than I’ve ever been. I’ll give him a firm hand to hold just like the one he always gave me. I’ll give him what he needs. No matter what.
“Hey,” Damien says, holding my gaze. “It’ll be okay.”
“I don’t think anything will ever be okay again.” My voice is barely a whisper.
“Might never be the same. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be okay. And if you need a shoulder, lean on people who care about you.”
“People who care about me?” I mutter. “I’m not sure how many of those I got left.”
Chapter Five
M ickey’s still breathing , or at least, I think he is. I watch his chest for movement and am relieved to see the slow but certain rise and fall. His bandages are stained, but for the most part, it looks as though the bleeding has slowed. There hasn’t been any change in his condition since Damien stitched him up.
Damien .
I shake my head just thinking about my unlikely savior. Never in a million years did I expect Carrie to bring me to him and for him to know exactly what to do to help. I owe him so much. More than I can ever repay. I’m not accustomed to feeling this way and I don’t exactly like it—not when I barely who he is or how much I should trust him. Or if I should trust him at all.
Mickey groans and I reach out to dab the beads of sweat on his forehead. “I’m here,” I say, squeezing his hand with my free one. “Don’t you dare go anywhere. You hear me? You have to
Neither Carrie nor I move. He looks at Carrie first and then me before I come back to life, hurrying over to Mickey’s side. I stroke the side of his face. “It’ll be okay, Uncle Mickey. I promise.”
He jabs a needle in Mickey’s leg and Mickey doesn’t even flinch. “Help me roll him; I need to see if it went clear through.” Mickey groans in pain as we log roll him onto his side. Damien nods and says. “Okay, it went through. That’s good. We’ll just have to sew him up and hope to God it didn’t slice through anything important.”
“You think it did?” I say, gulping.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s pretty close to some major organs. If he lives, he’ll be lucky. You should have taken him to a doctor. His chances would be better.”
“I…” I can’t finish the sentence because I know he’s right. I know I should have, but Mickey always knows what’s best. I have to trust him, because dealing with this shit is so far out of my comfort zone but probably well within his.
While Damien rolls my uncle back onto his back, I hold my hands over Mickey’s ears to make sure he doesn’t smack his head. Damien jabs a needle into Mickey’s skin, a few inches from his gunshot wound. I wince as Mickey moans and I want to question Damien about what he’s doing and why, but then he pulls out a kit for stitching him up and lays out his equipment. The way he holds his tools and the thread… And the way he attacks Mickey’s wound… There’s no hesitation. Only confidence. He threads so quickly that I can’t follow his movements. His hands move like they’re dancing—lacing and threading. Before I know it, Mickey’s wound is closed tight and Damien is cleaning up the blood on Mickey’s stomach.
He leaves me speechless.
“Told you we could trust him.”
With my uncle, yeah, I’ll give her that. But with our lives? That remains to be seen.
“Thank you,” I finally say after letting go of a deep breath. Tears spring to my eyes. This is going to work. I did the right thing. He’s going to live...because of Damien. I want this to be true and yet part of me still worries. I may still lose him. The thought shakes me and a sob threatens to bulldoze through my body.
Bilskis don’t cry. Not ever. I’ll be strong for Mickey, because he needs me to be and because I don’t want to be weak. I want to be strong like my aunt, stronger than I’ve ever been. I’ll give him a firm hand to hold just like the one he always gave me. I’ll give him what he needs. No matter what.
“Hey,” Damien says, holding my gaze. “It’ll be okay.”
“I don’t think anything will ever be okay again.” My voice is barely a whisper.
“Might never be the same. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be okay. And if you need a shoulder, lean on people who care about you.”
“People who care about me?” I mutter. “I’m not sure how many of those I got left.”
Chapter Five
M ickey’s still breathing , or at least, I think he is. I watch his chest for movement and am relieved to see the slow but certain rise and fall. His bandages are stained, but for the most part, it looks as though the bleeding has slowed. There hasn’t been any change in his condition since Damien stitched him up.
Damien .
I shake my head just thinking about my unlikely savior. Never in a million years did I expect Carrie to bring me to him and for him to know exactly what to do to help. I owe him so much. More than I can ever repay. I’m not accustomed to feeling this way and I don’t exactly like it—not when I barely who he is or how much I should trust him. Or if I should trust him at all.
Mickey groans and I reach out to dab the beads of sweat on his forehead. “I’m here,” I say, squeezing his hand with my free one. “Don’t you dare go anywhere. You hear me? You have to
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