4/1/2023 0 Comments The foxhole court memeAll of his men were well-versed in knife-fighting, and more than one of them had tried to stick Neil like a pig.Īnd there on his right shoulder was the perfect outline of half a hot iron. His father wasn’t called the butcher for nothing his weapon of choice was a cleaver. Along his abdomen were larger overlapping lines from confrontations with his father’s people while on the run. Faded scars crisscrossed here and there from his life on the run, either from stupid accidents, desperate escapes, or conflicts with local lowlifes. A shapeless patch of pale skin from his left shoulder to his navel marked where he’d jumped out of a moving car and torn himself raw on the asphalt. A pucker with jagged edges was a finger-width away, courtesy of a bullet that hit him right on the edge of his Kevlar vest. It started at the base of his throat, a looping scar curving down over his collarbone. He stared at her face as she stared at him, watching her gaze sweep over the brutal marks of a hideous childhood. She wasn’t fast enough to hide her flinch, and Neil saw her shoulders go rigid with tension. Her mouth parted on a silent breath and her expression went blank. Neil knew she wouldn’t be, and he was right. Abby dropped her hand and Neil pulled his shirt over his head before he could lose his nerve.Ībby thought she was ready. Neil wasn’t going to tell that psychiatrist a thing, but he nodded. “But know that when you want to, I’m here, and so is Betsy.” “You can’t ask me about them,” he said at last. That door is closed, and it comes with a lock. I’m here to help, remember? I’m your nurse now. Chances are I’ve seen a lot worse than whatever it is you’re trying to hide from me.” She put a finger to his chin and turned his face back toward her. Neil looked for a delicate way to say it. Tell me why you won’t take off your shirt.” “I want to make this as painless as possible, but I can’t help you if you can’t help me. “I can’t check track marks through cotton, Neil.”
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