The fifteen minute drive nearly undid Red.
He urged Dembe to drive faster though the drizzling rain made the road slick and hazardous. Dembe however, used it to his advantage, sliding around the slippery surface like a pro stock car racer.
Red cradled the bleeding woman to his chest, somewhat reassured by her continued breathing and heart beat, but it wasn't enough after repeated attempts to wake her, had failed.
He tucked the blanket and his coat around her trying to trap the his heat inside with little effect. She continued to shiver in his arms, unconsciously curled into his warmth.
"Dembe?" Red ground through his teeth, his frustration at the breaking point.
"I can see the doctor's car ahead." His friend reassured.
Shutting his eyes, Red dropped his head, rubbing his face against Liz's, comforting them both.
Pulling rapidly into the drive, the car slid on the wet concrete.
Dembe vacated the vehicle before it had been fully placed in park, the gears grinding viciously. Running to the opposite side, the man yanked open the door, stepping back hastily to allow Red to get out with his light burden, which he did with unpracticed ease.
Hurriedly making their way to the house, Red covered Liz with his body, blocking the rain as they were greeted by the doctor, who immediately began examining his patient.
The physician ran his hand over the head wound, pushing on the affected area. "Can you hear me?" His voice was raised effectively, but garnered no response. Following the two men, he kept talking, asking questions of the woman.
"How long since she lost consciousness?" Doctor Bryan removed necessary objects from his bag, placing them within reaching distance.
"Fifteen minutes." Red gently placed his precious bundle on the bed, careful of her injuries.
The IV was readied, administered with ease. "It will help with the shock. Did she mention any specific pain?"
"Specific pain! Have you looked at her?" Red knew he was being unreasonable but he didn't give a fuck.
The younger man took no offense, pulling a set of syringes from his bag, concentrating on the matter at hand. "Antibiotic and a tetanus shot." he explained his actions, still very much focused on his patient.
Tossing the used needles into a surgical pan, the slight man probed the cuts, carefully watching the flow. Reaching for his scissors, he pulled at Liz's shirt, cutting into the fabric in one long slice.
"Help me get her up." he instructed.
Red slid his hand under the woman's neck and shoulders, pulling her lax body into an upright position. He helped the doctor remove the last of her bloody garment, holding her naked torso against his clothed one.
She felt so cold against his heat and he desperately wished he could warm her, but other things must take priority, he knew.
"How much longer?" Red asked sternly.
"She has a couple of really bad gashes back here." the doctor snapped right back. "I know my job."
After a few minutes, the young man finished his task.
Easing her down, Red saw the full extent of her torso injuries. Gritting his teeth, his fists clenched tightly, the man fought to control his rage.
"She'll be fine Mr. Reddington." The doctor said calmly, gently prodding the wound on Liz's stomach. Grabbing the needed supplies, he immediately started closing the area.
Hearing Dembe's return, Red placed a cloth over the woman's breasts out of respect for her dignity.
The doctor had closed the stab wound on her stomach and was now working his way up her torso. He removed the cloth from her breasts, leaning in closer to inspect the deep cut on the upper slope of her mound.
Red watched as the man's hands pushed at the cut, his palm grazing her nipple, lifting the pert bud.
Stepping back, Red quelled the overwhelming instinct to yank the man's hand away. Closing his eyes, he shook aside the overpowering urge to snap the man's wrist.
He wondered in the days which followed, if the rage he felt at that moment was for the physician and his right to touch something Red felt so territorial about or his own unconscionable notice of how plump and soft... how very touchable the woman's breasts appeared even in such a state.
But admiring them as a man, becoming aroused at the sight, he simply could not... would not allow such a travesty. Not right now. Maybe later when this hell was over. When he wasn't so anxious and pissed... and terrified.
Right now, he just wanted her to be all right.
"This one isn't bad, we'll just bandage it." The doctor kept his face close to the area, unaware of the danger.
"The stomach wound is deep and will have to be watched for infection, I'm afraid." he sighed heavily, a heavy scowl on the handsome face. "Her neck is superficial, so to speak" he carefully bandaged her rib cage. "He missed anything vital in both areas. So that's good."
The narrative continued "They will be painful, but we'll manage that." it was reassured.
He disinfected and bandaged the long gash on her foot. "I would be happier with an x-ray before doing this, but I can feel the damage pretty clearly. I can set it and we'll boot it."
"No, you'll cast it." Red interrupted.
"We don't really have to do that anymore Mr. Reddington." the doctor knew better than to condescend, but... "With continued care, we will watch for any movement."
Red silenced the man. "I want her in casts. We'll discuss the boot later."
"Three weeks, then we'll re-evaluate." The doctor was not happy, clearly. Gently grabbing the foot, he manipulated it in his hand, hesitating when the woman on the bed stirred. Liz settled back into her slumber quickly and he returned to prodding the area.
"I can feel it here. I just need to slip it back into place."
Red nodded, sitting on the bed. He stroked her hair, murmuring to her quietly.
"Is there anyway we can get some ice? I'd like to pack her arm while we're waiting. Keep the swelling down." the doctor advised.
Red inclined his head, pulling out his phone, in seconds the request was accomplished.
Placing the cloth back over her pale breasts, Red stared down at her strained features, upset that even passed into sweet oblivion, she felt the pain.
"Are you ready to set the breaks?" Red demanded tightly.
The doctor nodded solemnly.
"Give her something for the pain."
"We don't know if she had a head injury, Mr. Reddington."
Red considered all his options. He leaned low, bracketing his arms at Liz's sides, murmuring softly to the woman.
"Lizzy," he kissed her forehead lingeringly, his eyes closing to his own pain. "I'm right here... so you just stay with me and soon this will all be nothing more than a bad dream."
From far away Elizabeth Keen left her place of relative safety for a more inviting atmosphere. She tried to force her eyes to open, unsuccessfully. The white haze relentlessly pulled her back.
Red opened his eyes, his lips brushing her cheek lovingly. His fists tightened into the cool cotton of the sheets below her until his knuckles turned white.
Liz felt a dry unrelenting set of hands grasp her leg, distracting her from the deep, rich voice cocooning her in warmth and safety. She moved restlessly on the bed, panic rising in her chest which rose and fell laboriously as the persistent hands tried to wrench her from that safe haven... from that voice.
In the otherwise cool room, fine droplets of perspiration ran in rust colored rivulets down her battered body. The reddened sheen covering her rapidly paling skin, stained a grotesque outline of her body onto the ghostly white sheets.
Her body jerked, trying to curl in on itself in defense as the doctor held her foot stationary, causing her to cry out, red tears streaming down her face.
The doctor skillfully snapped the joint back into place.
She coughed low in her chest, her shoulders turned inward, the white haze melting into red fog of awareness. She gagged once, then twice.
Red turned her to her side, just in time to catch what was left of her stomach contents in one of the doctors medical trays. Bracing his forearms tightly under her shoulders, his hands bracketed her head, her tears wetting his palms.
Edging closer, he lay his warmth over the coolness of her form. Whispering reassuringly to the woman, Red reached between them popping the buttons on his shirt open.
In a bid to warm the woman, Red lay his bare chest to hers, ignoring how the soft mounds of her bare breasts pressed into him.
"It's almost done baby, I promise." he soothed, his lips brushing against the soft shell of her ear.
Red felt her slender hand grasping for purchase against his inner thigh before bunching what little fabric there was in her trembling hand.
He kept crooning softly to her and was grateful when her head fell limply into his hand as her breath evened out and the tension in her muscles eased. Which was more than he could say for his.
"Sleep, sweetheart," he coaxed softly. "I'm here."
Staying close to Lizzy, he stroked her hair, tracing her bloodied features with his thumb and forefinger, smoothing out the pained expression on her delicate features.
"Sir, we need to do her arm."
Red blinked a stony gaze, his eyes never leaving her face.
"Do it quickly," Red punctuated.
Tightening his hold, Red pressed Lizzy's small body to his, slowly lifting upright. Her light weight settled into him, her head falling into his shoulder.
The doctor picked up her arm, manipulating it until Red felt a slight pulling movement. He braced his mind against Liz's body shaking with the action.
"You can lay her back down now."
Those were the sweetest words Red Reddington had ever heard. He released the tension and anguish he had been holding in, his stomach lurching spasmodically all the same.
After working steadily for forty five minutes putting on the arm cast and double checking wounds, Dembe and the assistant quietly and efficiently started gathering supplies and cleaning up. The doctor took his leave, instructions left behind.
Dembe returned to the room minutes later carrying a bowl filled with hot soapy water, clean towels draped over his arm.
"Raymond," He set the supplies beside Red, "would you like me to assist you?"
Gently running his hands over Lizzy's head, Red nuzzled her brow once before looking over his shoulder. "No, but did you get the sheets for the bed and the heat packs?"
Dembe motioned with his head to where the articles lay waiting.
Red sat up and picked up a soft cloth, dunking it in the hot water, wringing the excess out.
Working at an efficient but gentle pace, Red quickly cleaned as much of the blood from Lizzy's small body possible, for it was imperative he get her dry and warm.
Dembe waited patiently before finally being summoned. "Dembe, grab one of my shirts, please."
The large man returned with a soft dark button up, then walked to the large picture window which framed the wall to Raymond's left, looking out into the night.
Sitting Liz up, Red slipped her arms through the open sleeves, careful of the thick cast. Buttoning the shirt hid her wounds for which he was grateful.
"I'm done," laying her back into the pillow, he took the heating pad Dembe offered, laying it against her abdomen before pulling the blankets up around her.
Grabbing the water bowl, he bypassed Dembe, heading for the bathroom. "I can take care of that Raymond."
Ray set the bowl on the counter top, bracing his hands against the rich marble. Hanging his head, his jaw tightened.
Releasing a trembling breath, he pushed off the sink and bolted for the toilet bowl. Bracing a hand against the wall and one on the tank, he repeatedly expelled the fear that had plagued him for the last two hours.
He saw Dembe at his left, a water glass in his hand. Taking it, he swished the lukewarm liquid, spitting it into the water below, repeating until the taste abated.
"I can't lose her..." He said roughly, his throat raw.
"You won't." Dembe's voice held a finality Red cherished. "She will be fine, my friend."
Red finally nodded, knowing the truth when he heard it. Leaning into the wall, he steadied himself.
"Clean up, then I will help you with the bed."
Red frowned, then caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was covered in Liz's blood. It even showed against the black of his tuxedo pants.
Her hand prints branded on the pristine white shirt, his forearms, neck and face. His bare chest, a mirror image to her wounds, the outline dotting his flesh.
"I'll be right out." He swallowed another rise of bile.
Throwing the clothes on the bathroom bench, he turned on the shower stepping under the heated spray, watching the red swirl off him onto the floor.
Leaning into the shower wall, he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears threatening escape. Reaching blindly for the soap, he washed away the evidence of the evening.
Stepping out, he wrapped the towel low on his waist, searching for something to wear.
Once in the bedroom, he glanced at his friend, sighing. "We'll change one side, I'll move her, then we can do the other side."
"Give me your hand," Dembe unrolled some gauze before tearing off strips of tape, placing them along the dresser.
Holding his hand out, Red quietly stared at the woman on the bed until Dembe finished his task.
It took only moment for them to change the linens and get Elizabeth situated for the night ahead.
"I'm going to stay with her a while," Red needed time alone with the woman. "Why don't you go get some rest."
Dembe nodded, "I have my phone if you should need me."
"Goodnight and thank you," Red thought it needed to be said, especially this night, "for putting up with me."
"Always," Dembe nodded his head nobly, walking from the room.
Red lay flat on the bed, closing his eyes, exhaustion overtaking him. But his mind refused to shut down, replaying the images of Liz, bloodied and broken, in extreme technicolor.
Turning over, he was soothed by the rise and fall of her breast as Lizzy breathed evenly in her sleep.
He would just lay here a few minutes and rest. Then move to the chair. He just needed a few minutes.
Wrapping his hand around her cooler one... in time, his breathing slowly matched her own.
Sleep blissfully came, moments later.
"Why the hell didn't you stay with her!" Cooper's voice sliced through Red's already pounding head.
He should have stayed with her, he knew something had been wrong. He had sensed it.
Glancing through the half-open bathroom door, Red checked on the still sleeping woman... inundated by a surge of emotion. Elizabeth was here, she was safe... and would remain that way, no matter what he had to do.
"Suffice to say, it's a mistake that will not happen again." Instead of wanting to keep the peace that had come between them recently, Red should have dealt with any annoyance that would have arisen.
"Where is she now?" Cooper's tone was curt.
"With me," Red stared at the sleeping woman, frowning.
"And that would be where?" Cooper questioned.
"Until she otherwise specifies, she is perfectly safe and is well taken care of, that's all you need to know." Red was not open to compromise.
Harold sighed into the phone. "Are we certain this was Carver?"
"She resembles a fucking Picasso painting." Red held his anger admirably. "Who else could it fucking be!"
"I'll assemble a team and have them at Keen's house in thirty minutes." Harold stated. "Can you make it, we need some sort of run down how things unfolded."
"When Dembe returns, I'll meet you there." He hung up the phone, then dialed again.
Leaving Elizabeth in Dembe's secure presence, Red drove across town to keep his rendezvous with Cooper.
Turning the corner, he slowed the car as the street was congested with every sort of Federal vehicle known to man.
Though expecting the fiasco which greeted him upon his arrival, Red quite frankly was in no mood to deal with bureaucracy today.
Media crews were already on site. Feds were literally combing through the bushes, surrounding the neighborhood, let alone Elizabeth's home.
Taking a spot that obviously had been left for him, he exited the vehicle, greeted by Samar.
"Do you think there's enough people here?" Red pointed to the menagerie surrounding them.
"It's one of their own." Samar shrugged slightly.
"Oh, they're claiming Elizabeth as one of their own now." Red said sarcastically. "Only took some media attention and her losing a couple pints of blood for that to happen."
"Is she all right?" Samar asked quietly.
"She's alive," the man snapped, causing the woman opposite him to frown and step back. "Sorry, it was a long night." he instantly apologized.
Nodding her understanding, Red took her arm, leading her up the stairs to where the others waited. "Come on, I don't want to have to repeat this twice."
Stepping through the threshold, Red felt a wave of nausea crash over him.
The smell of vomit and blood which escaped his senses last night, overwhelmed him this morning.
"Red, what can you tell us?" Harold and Donald stood gravely before him.
"This..." he waved at the doors, "is my handiwork. I kicked in both. They were locked and she used her key to get in."
"Is that when that happened?" Harold pointed to Red's bandaged hand.
"No," Red glanced at the appendage, his tone curt.
Stepping further into the entryway, he took in the sight of the broken furniture left in the wake of last night's brawl sprawled through the area... and the blood smeared all over the floor and walls.
Pulling his eyes away from the spot where he had found Elizabeth, Red's swallowed at the bile raising in his throat as he imagined how terrified she must have been, alone and hurting... thinking she was going to die.
"When I came in, she was laying there." He pointed to the hallway.
He remembered skidding, and could see the imprint where he had knelt next to Elizabeth, clearly out lined on the bloodied floor.
The flowers he had given her lay trampled and strewn about the room.
His eye ticked spasmodically for the fatalistic symbolism.
The Elizabeth he saw last emerging was self assured, self confident. She was beginning to believe in herself.
He now feared that her dreams for pushing beyond that self doubt, were just as haphazardly scattered and crushed as the flowers on the blood covered floor.
He knew she would see this moment as a failure instead of an achievement.
Where others hadn't...she survived.
"There's blood by the backdoor." Ressler jotted the note down on his pad, having just spoken with a forensic tech.
"It may be hers." Samar gestured to where Red focused his attention.
"No," Ressler pointed to the men collecting the evidence. "They said the drops appeared to have fallen from a height of at least six feet."
Red's mouth pulled at the corner. Lizzy wounded Carver.
"So, Liz got in a few good licks." Samar grinned. "Check area hospitals, maybe?" she shrugged.
"He would have handled it himself." Red muttered then squatted, squinting at a piece of something sticking up from between the floorboards. "What is that?"
Samar came over, tweezing the piece, holding it up between them.
"A fingernail."
Swallowing convulsively, Red cleared his throat. "So he dragged her from there to the back." the man concentrated his efforts elsewhere, determined to learn all he could of events.
Donald walked the scene beside Reddington, noting each and every detail the older man supplied, good little agent that he was.
Samar stood quietly, arms folded tightly over her chest, the lovely face giving away nothing of her own emotional attachment.
"Dembe followed the bastard out the back but lost him minutes later. He had a car waiting." Red finished his narrative. "We immobilized Elizabeth then left."
"And Keen didn't say anything else besides she thought it was Carver?" Donald looked up from his notes.
"She was bleeding out and in shock," Red growled. "That she said anythin–"
"Take it easy Red." Harold stepped between the two men. "He's only trying to get information so we can help."
"Help?" Red stepped forward, threateningly. "It would have helped if you had kept this contained." the man spewed his fury. "Plug the fucking leak, Harold. I can't keep her safe if the Press splashes her face across every media outlet available." he pointed to the farce taking place outside.
"We have, all records have been sealed and tagged." Cooper mollified. "If they're tapped, warning flags will go up."
"Where's Hudson?" Red inquired briskly, glancing superficially about the area.
"He's out back, we..." Samar started to reply but Red walked away, heading for the area.
He exited the door, scanning for the dog.
Hudson cowered over by the fence which ran the length of the property. People parted ways as the man headed for the furry animal.
Red hunkered down, scratching at the scared animals head before grabbing the leash.
Samar came to his side, "I can take him if you..."
"She'll want him." Red interrupted curtly. "When are you going to be done here?"
"Another hour or so, I guess." Samar shrugged her shoulders, glancing about the chaos. "I could call..."
"Yes, I have Dembe coming to gather her things."
"Red, are you all right?" Samar asked sincerely.
"I'm fine." Picking up the dog, he walked away silently, leaving the woman to wonder in his wake.
Sitting hunched over the silent figure before him, Red held Elizabeth's hand, stroking it.
Thoughts of whisking her away to some hidden place away from the danger, wrapping her in a cocoon of safety, had filled his mind from the moment he had sat down.
With all she had seen and faced, she was still quite naïve. She was capable, but ill prepared to deal with this life. His life.
A world filled with people that would fight, steal, cheat and even kill to stay ahead of the game.
To climb the ladder.
With him backing her, guiding her... she could learn. Without him...
A soft knocking on the door drew his attention away from his dark thoughts, his turmoil. "Come in."
"Raymond..." Mr. Kaplan's voice calmed him instantly. With this woman beside him, he knew everything would be well taken care of with no involvement or input from him.
His mouth pulled at the corners slightly thinking that she actually preferred when he didn't get in her way.
"Kate." She placed her hand on his shoulder, a slight touch that relaxed him. He felt his shoulders loosen, the sleepiness he'd been fighting all morning making his body sag with exhaustion.
He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the rising tide away.
Kaplan stroked his head lightly, the sensation traversing his entire form. He instinctively fought his desire to give in to the delicious emotions the woman evoked.
If he didn't know better, he'd think she was drugging him. There were only a few people Red trusted implicitly and Kate Kaplan was at the top of that list right alongside Dembe.
"Tell me." Her voice soothed and calmed his tattered soul.
Only two words and he unloaded it all. Everything that happened from the time he saw Lizzy in that red dress to the time he passed out on the bed next to her.
Kaplan sat quietly, listening to the past night's events, occasionally patting his arm during difficult sequences, waiting patiently until he was composed enough to continue.
When he was finished, she asked, in her no nonsense way, what he wanted, needed of her.
"I want her out of that damn house. I don't want her ever setting foot in there again. I want it gone." he stated venomously, then seemed to deflate. "But I'm wrong, aren't I? Deciding that she can't go back there. It isn't my decision."
"No," the woman finally spoke. "If you want someone to be the bad guy, let's have it be me. The house is nothing but a noose around her neck. It needs to go... she needs to move on."
Red was taken aback. He expected her usual humorous sarcasm, in that he was being selfish, too overprotective, impulsive. Kate hadn't even scolded him like she had with the incidents that occurred with his ex-wife.
She even agreed with him. And no one, in his opinion, was more level-headed then Kate Kaplan.
"I will take care of everything." Raymond already felt better. "As for you... you need to rest. So you will get in bed and stay there until I return."
She pushed at him, making him leave the chair, urging him to the other side of the bed, guiding his sluggish movements.
"Shoes..." he kicked them off, "Vest..." he unbuttoned it, pulling it off, "Belt..." he yanked it free of the loops, realizing he was following her low commands without question.
"You'd be a great Dominatrix." Red slurred his words sleepily as he lay back into the bed, his head landing in the cushy pillow.
"Who's to say," She asked, quietly closing the door behind her, "that was not my first career choice."
Red opened his eyes slowly. The late evening sun's rays were just now lighting the room.
How long had he slept?
Glancing at the clock, he was surprised to see four hours had passed. His internal clock was definitely off.
Damn, Kate Kaplan. The thought made him smile.
He stumbled to the bathroom splashing his face with cool water, brushing his teeth, taking a leak and changing clothes.
He then felt prepared to deal with whatever awaited him outside this room.
The man checked on Elizabeth, placing a phone beside her, in case she needed him.
Walking around the corner to the sitting room, he was slightly shocked to see Mr. Kaplan sitting quietly with Dembe, both happily reading away.
His eyebrow lifted as he noted the title of Kate's book, Lady Kaitlyn's Lover.
His estimation of the woman rose by degrees. Dembe had ordered his special platinum edition of Downtown Abbey's fourth season. It was more than odd to see a big grin on usually placid face.
"Were there problems?" Red questioned. It was very rare that Kaplan stayed on after finishing a job.
"Are there ever?" she looked up from her book, slightly annoyed.
"We didn't want to disturb you." Kate pulled out her phone, typing into it rapidly.
Dembe spoke quietly from behind his fully illustrated hardcover, "And I for one, knowing full well you were sleeping with a gun under your pillow... did not wish to die." he glanced up too. "How would I know if Lady Mary ever finds a happy ending?"
A few moments later there was a knock on the front door. Dembe got up and headed for the source.
"Do you feel better?" Kate laid her novel aside.
"I do. But then, I did when you came in to the room."
"Get your nose out of my ass, Raymond. " Kate got up from her seat, her services needed. She cast a slight scowl to the man as she passed.
"I don't believe a woman has requested that of me before." Red looked off, lost in thought. "If anything, I've been asked to linger a bit," he cut his eyes to hers, a seductive lift of his brows signified his mood, "and instructed to lick t–"
"Yes, and I'm sure you complied... like the good little Submissive you are." Kaplan sighed. "Deviant." she stared at him, straight faced.
"Speaking of which, tell me about the book you're reading." Raymond teased. "Any good pages you've marked so far?"
The woman shifted a cool glance. "Try page one sixty seven. You might be amused... now, where do you want this miscellanea placed?"
Red stepped out on to the drive, finding two large trucks sitting there. Kate came to stand beside him.
The man moved out of the way of a large rack of clothing being wheeled past.
"Is this everything?" he enquired.
"The smaller truck holds Tom Keen's possessions. I assumed you wanted that kept separate, so you could go through it."
"I do, yes." Red looked over his shoulder, finding Silas, whom he waved over. "I want everything in that truck scanned and searched... twice. See to it personally."
"You got it boss." Silas quipped. "What do you want us to do with it if it's clean?"
"Donate it to a shelter. Even if the owner couldn't do anything for society, maybe his possessions will." Red scoffed lightly. "Did you wave her clothes?"
"We did. Picked up a couple bugs and trackers, mainly in the coats and bags."
"Asshole," Red mumbled under his breath, though not as quietly as he thought, when he found Dembe and Silas nodding in agreement with assessment. "What did you do with them?"
"What do you want us to do with them?" Silas asked innocently.
"Put them in his clothing. Let him chase them through the streets of DC." Dembe and Silas grinned for the irony of it all.
"As for the other trucks, we thought you may be able to direct what stays and goes."
They started pulling boxes and totes, Red directed most of it back into the empty truck, after if was found to be clear of any mementoes left by Tom.
The next tote that passed by, caught his interest. "Wait. Let me look at that."
He popped the top off, staring inside at Sam's smiling face, Lizzy beside him, grinning happily in a photo.
Lifting the album out of the box, he found a stuffed rabbit laying underneath.
His heart began beating wildly in his chest.
Clasping the album, he reached inside, pulling out the singed rabbit. Squeezing it in his hand, he felt the hardened center, furthering the palpitations in his chest.
"Raymond?" Dembe had noticed the man's preoccupation. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine." He transferred the rabbit and album to one hand, closed the lid on the bin, then waved it off.
Kate stepped next to him, opening her bag. She pulled out a handful of envelopes.
"Here's her mail. I all ready took care of having everything forwarded to the address you gave me and the utilities are transferred to you."
"You're so efficient." he caressed her sensually.
"And expensive."
"And worth every penny." he smiled genuinely enjoying the exchange.
"If I told you to get down and lick my boots, you'd do it, wouldn't you Raymond."
"Would you like me to?" He leered playfully.
Kate scoffed, "Save it for her." She thumbed back at the house and the woman sleeping inside.
A little while later, they had Liz's personal things inside. Her furniture and decorative pieces on the truck, ready for storage.
And Tom's things swiped and cleared of any useful items. Money, weapons, blackmail on a couple dozen people Tom had obviously been following, and keys to various banks through out the city, had been found.
But most importantly... besides Lizzy, alive and well and sleeping comfortably in his bedroom.
The Fulcrum was finally back in its proper place.
Raymond Reddington's possession.
Red glanced up, instantly laying his book aside. He had arisen, his name beckoning him forward. The man leaned slightly, concern on his handsome face.
Liz struggled to speak again, and thankfully a straw was placed gently between her parched lips. She drank greedily. Sipping the cooled liquid slowly, she tried again but the sound remained deep in her throat.
"I'm here." He smiled sitting down next to her, smoothing her hair out of her face. Her eyes fluttered open, seeking the man's earnest gaze. "How do you feel?"
"Like I was attacked," she told the truth as she knew it, "by a blade wielding rabid dog."
The man held the cool water for her to drink her fill.
"An apt description," He chuckled, relieved to hear her voice.
She sought his countenance. "H-How long?"
"It's Sunday. You slept Saturday away." He checked his watch, then her person as he had the entire time he had been by her side. "What are you feeling?"
"Like I need a bathroom." If her bladder wasn't so full, Liz might have been embarrassed, but right now there was nothing but an urgent need.
"All right, let's get you up..." With practiced ease and efficiency, he helped her to sit up and slide to the edge of the bed. "Let me do the work, just lean into me."
Standing her with little pain, he righted them both, taking the weight off her leg.
"Crutches?" she glanced around groggily.
After four tiny stilted steps, he damned her pride.
"To hell with it." Bending, he hooked his arms around her, picking her up with ease, walking quickly to the bathroom. He was a bit worried and elated Lizzy hadn't protested.
Setting her in front of the toilet, he braced her hand on the bar and turned, only to be stopped by her small voice, "How in the hell am I supposed to...do this?" She gestured to her cast, then her clothes.
Coming back, he looked her in the eye, understanding how difficult such a situation was for her. He placidly set his features.
"I won't look," He made work of the string holding the shorts. "I promise."
"I don't care right now," Liz squeezed her eyes shut, the need that pronounce, "ask me later after I've peed."
His lip rose in amusement. Placing his hands on her hips, Red pushed the fabric quickly down her thighs, then helped her down. "I'll just be out there..."
After a few seconds her stream started, her hand gripping the handrail, gasping with relief.
He walked away, giving her a sense of privacy. He hoped that this didn't embarrass her because for the next couple of weeks at least, she was going to need someone to be there for these private moments.
The stream finally came to a trickle, then stopped. He heard a long sigh, "Thank you, God."
Putting down her toothbrush, he went back, undid the damage he had done, his manner verging on the professional.
"Thank you, Red. I'm..." She blushed a bit, but was truly thankful.
He gestured to the sink, distracting her. "You want to freshen up a bit?"
"I would kill to freshen up a bit." After a few hobbled steps, she set her appreciative eyes on the available seat.
"You can't take a shower yet, for obvious reasons, but a good sponge bath is just as refreshing." Handing her a soft cloth and soap, he stepped back and turned around.
"This smells so good," Liz had stopped to sniff the fragrance. "It's just like the soap I use."
"I sent Dembe back with Mr. Kaplan." He made mention. "They packed up your things."
A scowl crossed his brow briefly. "It's going to be difficult with that arm... isn't it?"
Liz looked about her person, the same thought having crossed her mind. She stiffened her resolve gingerly handing the soap and cloth over to capable hands.
"I feel so lame." she muttered dejectedly.
"Loose the shirt," he dampened the cloth in hot water.
"I don't think so." Elizabeth started to object. "I can do this."
He waited patiently for her common sense to surface. At length she hesitantly begin to unbutton the shirt. The man shifted his head slightly when she removed it.
She bunched the garment, holding it protectively over her breasts.
Wiping her down gently, he continually reheated the cloth, at one point, dropping to his haunches, wiping away the last of the blood on her legs.
Her faint skin was still swirled with the now dried red fluid. It looked like a tan gone wrong.
"What happened to your hand?" Liz asked, grasping at anything to take her mind from the fact that his administrations felt so wonderful.
"Little accident," he grimaced slightly. "It's nothing."
"Where are we?" she glanced around her surroundings, not recognizing the room.
"With Tom and Carver hanging around. I went ahead and moved us here. It's more secure."
She watched him wipe down her leg, running the cloth up to her thigh.
"Lizzy, I know you might not remember a lot..."
The woman wondered where the conversation was leading.
"Your injuries were... extensive. I just want to warn you." He bowed his head, hesitating momentarily, cloth poised in the air.
She realized that she hadn't even looked in the mirror. Looking up, she took in her appearance.
Her complexion was so pale, the white gauze against the wounds looked dark. Her lip was split, scabbed slightly but healing.
She gasped, seeing the black threading haphazardly dotting her abused flesh.
She poked at one set of stitches, surprised it didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. It looked so grotesque, so ugly, that you would think that it would be as painful to touch as it was to see.
"My God..." She stuttered. She could hardly count the cuts, let alone the threads.
"He will pay, Lizzy," Red mumbled. "As God is my witness." While he had no concrete plans how to exact that revenge, he knew sooner or later something would come to mind.
That was the time he was looking most forward to... a time when he would face down his demons and in this particular case, her demon.
Carver... would... pay.
Their eyes met in the mirror. She looked away from the bleakness, shivering slightly. At times she almost forgot this man was Red Reddington.
"I guess it doesn't really matter. It's just, to see it..." she tried to shrug the matter away. "I can do the front." she gestured for the cloth.
"We'll have to change some of the dressings. So we're going to have to figure out how to do the front portion, sooner or later." He stopped when her head dropped.
"Lizzy. I know you're highly uncomfortable right now. But please, don't be." he stated more than asked.
"I know it might not help," He gave her the cloth, turning away, "but I've been in your shoes so many times... I've had to have someone help me in the bathroom, my hands were such a mess."
Liz felt a smile play at her lips, appreciating Red's candor.
"As you can imagine, it's a bit more extensive for a male than just dropping drawers." he crooked his brow and tilted his head back and forth. "Probably not the best sight in the world, or feeling. And no... it wasn't Dembe."
Red turned to the pantry to give her privacy, taking his time in gathering supplies that he would need.
"I had buck shot in my back down to my ass, how do you think that was cared for?" he remembered that time, not too fondly. "I get it, your frustration and embarrassment, really I do."
"I understand what you're saying intellectually, Red." she took a cleansing breath. "I'll be okay. I just woke up. I'm still shaky, hungry. Disoriented" Liz built up her courage. "I'm a little vulnerable right now and not just because of this, I'll be fine." She freely admitted her weakness for once.
With that, she removed the barrier between them allowing it to drop aside. She smiled when Red ducked his head, appreciating his gesture.
"I'll hire a nurse for you." It had been on his agenda. "I don't know why I didn't do it yesterday?"
But between Mr. Kaplan allowing him to sleep and Harold calling every hour on the hour, there hadn't been a lot of time.
Washing up, methodically removing the red stain, she finally finished, handing the cloth back.
Red shifted behind her, soothingly rubbing at her back, removing the thick gauze with care.
Shivering with pleasure, she leaned into his touch.
"Are you cold?"
"No, it feels good." Why lie? If anyone needed something to feel good about right now, it was the woman.
His only response was to keep up the small circular patterns, which she so enjoyed.
"And you don't have to hire a nurse." she extended an olive branch. "It's only for a couple of days." Glancing back at him. "She won't have your touch, of course." she half-teased.
Red inwardly rejoiced, but hid his reaction well. "If she doesn't work out... I'm your man."
That was the problem, Liz was beginning to notice that more and more, of late. That Red Reddington was indeed, very much... a man.
The woman was shaky and weak by the end of the ordeal.
Getting her situated on the small couch overlooking the gardens, Red went about preparing and enjoying breakfast with the woman.
Really, the whole day passed most pleasantly, at least to Red's point of view. Lizzy had eaten well and his narratives throughout the day brought more than a few smiles.
All in all, the day had been brightened both their spirits.
Heading to his office, Red set about hiring Lizzy the nurses he promised... and tackling the mounting mound of mail piled upon his desk.
The mail had been piling up, so he took his coffee heading for the office.
Dembe had arrived ahead of him and was already going through a batch. An hour later, some headway had actually been made when his damned phone rang. Red picked it up, staring at the screen, sighing.
Ressler. His world turned bleak.
"Yes?" Red said simply.
"Reddington?" Donald's monotone voice returned the greeting.
"What do you want Donald?"
"First, how is Keen doing?"
"She's doing well," The older man replied. "Better actually"
"We've found a new victim." with the amenities out of the way, life moved on in Donald's world. "We're wondering if you can ID her?"
"Send me a picture." Red instructed.
"To where?" Ressler was momentarily waylaid.
Red covered the phone, "Send Ressler an address or a number he can send a picture, please Dembe."
"Are you there, Reddington?" Samar asked.
He hated when they did that. The speaker phone was such a nuisance. "Yes, I'm here. Dembe will be texting you an address."
"Is it secure?" Donald ran true to form.
"Just send the damn thing, Donald." Red snapped. "I'll call you back in a few minutes."
He closed the phone waiting for Dembe to hand over the laptop. The page finally opened, so the man shuffled through the pictures rapidly.
Why Ressler had sent six, he didn't know. But they were from every angle. Red could see in living color, what this woman had gone through. And while it didn't turn his stomach like it used to, he did feel a great deal of sympathy for her.
Finally finding one of her face up close. He focused on different features, seeing past the horror in her eyes, the grim set of her mouth and the blood, to piece together the woman she had been.
Flipping his phone open, he dialed Ressler. The phone continued to ring incessantly. He really hated when he told someone that he'd call them right back, then they let the phone ring and ring.
Ressler was taking a play out of Glen's handbook, Reddington just knew it.
"Ressler," Donald finally spoke brusquely into the phone.
"I don't know her."
"You're positive?"
"Yes, I don't know this woman." Red grated. "Though..."
"What? What do you see?" Samar asked.
"Look at her wounds, compare them to the other victims. He went out of his way to really torture her." the words sounded hollow and empty, even to Red's ears.
"The others; their face, legs, arms, something on them is always left unblemished. There isn't one part of this woman he didn't touch." Red scrolled continuously back and forth between the photos. "Something's off."
"What?" Donald asked, hopefully.
"If I knew, I wouldn't have stopped talking."
"Yeah well, if anything comes to mind, call." Ressler would always be Ressler. More's the pity.
Red shut the phone, leaning back in his chair, grabbing a pile of mail stacked neatly before him.
He rifled through it quickly, sorting personal from junk. Red stopped, holding up an envelope. "Why do I keep getting these?"
He made reference to the 'Planning for your Funeral' leaflet. He questioned Dembe. "Did you put my name on a mailing list?"
"No..." Dembe did not even look up from his busy work, "not yet."
Red scowled. Dembe continued, "Perhaps they think you can send them repeat business?"
"I would never undercut Kaplan." Red threw the leaflet aside.
"That is the parcel Mr. Kaplan sent over this morning, by the way." Dembe motioned to Red's right. The man put down his own mail, picking up Elizabeth Keen's.
He paid the bills with enough to carry through to the next month. Hopefully, the house would be sold by then, but he'd rather have it out of the way.
He pulled over the small stack of envelopes addressed to Liz personally, wondering what to do with them.
Red did not believe in invading anyone's personal space, and normally he would never do so... but there was something peculiar about this set of envelopes, which had caught his attention.
The post marks were dated from approximately a week back.
Without hesitation, he sliced the first open with his knife. He pulled out the single sheet, unfolding it, rapidly scanning the neatly typed script.
His eye ticking as he read it.
I saw you walking out with Reddington with a bag and then you didn't come home.
I tried following, but lost you. I know you're staying with him. I can't even begin
to fathom how that came about. I'm sure it's for your job, but I have to wonder what
lies he spouted to get you to agree. Don't believe in the lies, Liz.
At least Tom hadn't followed them or been able to keep up with Dembe's erratic movements through traffic. So, there was that at least.
It's bad enough that you're staying with him so long. But that you enjoy that time
spent with him is mind boggling. I heard you laughing at the Blacksite
when he was talking to you. Don't lose sight of what your job is, Liz. He's a criminal.
A monster. A demon. If you give me a chance, I know we can bring him down to his knees.
How long had she been receiving these and said nothing to him. The man's ire rose. It may sound on the surface, like the ramblings of an insane man, true...but Red saw a definite threat.
The Blacksite wasn't that populated a place, so for him to have missed Tom, meant Red wasn't focused. That would change.
Not that Lizzy was going anywhere anytime soon, but maybe, if Red was alert and ready, he could catch the prick and take him down. Because it was very obvious, Tom had gone around the bend.
Red slammed the papers down, his blood boiling. He stood, pacing slowly back and forth.
Anger was unproductive, he had to rid his mind in order to function properly.
He set about doing so, with the one person who was always capable of putting his world in order, no matter how chaotic.
He didn't understand it, but he no longer denied it, if only to himself.
Red entered their bedroom... when it had became 'theirs' he had no clue.
If he were to venture a guess, it would be when Lizzy demanded he sleep, not in the chair beside her where he kept vigil in case she needed assistance... but in the bed beside her.
Due to the unusual circumstances, it was a practical solution. Lizzy often needed help in the middle of the night.
It did not negate, however, how much it meant to him that Elizabeth had grown to accept his presence and even welcome it.
Turning on a low light, he slowly eased to the bed beside Elizabeth.
Pulling back the blankets, he scooted closer, raising the back of Liz's shirt, staring at the black stitching.
Touching one of the small cuts, he felt the cool of her skin. Good, no infection.
Tracing a longer cut, Red scowled, then smiled when Lizzy sleepily swatted at his hand, scratching at the itch his activity produced.
He felt his earlier anger melting into oblivion.
Running his fingers against the threading with a more pronounced touch, she mewled softly, yawning and stretching awake.
He leaned closer, his tone soothingly low. "You want me to take some of your stitching out?" He grinned when the woman rubbed her ear on her shoulder, taking away the shiver he had caused.
It had only taken him a short time to discover one of Elizabeth's weaknesses.
She was very responsive to the most sensitive of touches around her ears and throat. With that knowledge, he never failed to take advantage of any opportunity presented.
Holding his position, his tone deepened, "Or do you want to wait for the nurses?"
Liz rubbed the tingles along her neck, opening her eyes slightly. "You do it." she said around a yawn, before she really considered the implication.
She had not wanted the nurses pawing all over her personal space. And then she remembered... Red would be in her personal space.
"I'll be right back." the man rolled from the bed crossing to the bathroom, coming back moments later with little scissors and tweezers.
"Did you sleep well?" he made small talk, sensing an awkwardness now that wasn't there before. He was slightly amused, also sensing the cause.
"Yeah." She stared at the covered windows blocking out the sun. "What time is it?"
"Almost ten." Red gently raised her shirt, turning her more to her stomach. "I bet you're hungry. You didn't wake last night." he began the task at hand.
"I can wait a little bit." She hugged her pillow, rolling over, giving him a better view of her back. "Anything going on this morning." it was her turn to make small talk. She found the situation suddenly unbearably intimate.
His hands were warm and sensitive and it was very pleasurable, to have him remove the burdensome thread.
Red knew sooner or later, Liz would start asking questions as she became more coherent.
It seemed today was that day. It was such a simple thing for her to ask, but not an easy thing for him to respond to since he promised never to lie to her.
Why he had promised that...
If he told her about the new victim, she'd fret about it all day. And the letters... should he confront her about them?
She was still weak, fatigued. Getting into an argument with her now would tire her further. Which would make him a huge asshole.
There had to be a middle ground.
Maybe there was?
The letters, he decided to hold off on. They could wait. She was safe here and would continue to be so, as long as she was with him.
Tom could keep sending his incoherent prose all he wanted because he was bound to slip one day and perhaps reveal his whereabouts.
The other problem was easy enough to fix, because she had been placed on medical leave.
"Donald called," She tensed, until he stroked her back gently with his fingers, eliciting a shiver and an instant release of the tension.
Another place she likes to be touched. He categorized, filing the knowledge away mentally.
"There's been another victim." He tweezed a piece of thread, pulling it free. "And before you go off and start thinking about it all day and tiring yourself out - stop. I will be helping them."
"If I could just see the..."
"Cooper said not to give you anything."
"He doesn't have to know."
"No." He raised the shirt further, snipping at a longer cut. "You're on medical leave. You're supposed to be resting and that's exactly what you're going to do."
"I can help. I'm not..."
"I said, no." He chuckled silently when she fell silent, pouting into her pillow. "This damn thing keeps falling in my way." he had attempted another section of her body, only to be frustrated by the fabric. "Take the shirt off."
Red helped her with the sleeves. "I know you're capable of looking at notes, Lizzy. But you wouldn't stop there." he knew the woman well. "You'll keep going until you're beyond exhausted."
Tenderly skimming a gentle down the curve of her spine, he smiled as the woman's flesh erupted in goosebumps. "You don't trust me?
She shifted her head quickly, frowning at him. "Yes, I do."
"Then trust me when I say, I will do everything I can to find him." He didn't add that when he did find Carver... well, let's just say Red Reddington believed in an 'eye for an eye' retribution. "Roll over."
He handed her the discarded shirt, helping keep it in place over her breasts as she flipped. She trembled slightly as she settled.
"Are you cold?" he had noticed the fact.
She shook her head, grimacing as she adjusted her position.
"Your leg?" He grabbed a fluffy pillow, stuffing the cushion beneath her leg, sensing the problem.
Liz thanked him with a silent nod of gratitude.
"I'm not asking, just wondering." she couldn't get it out of her mind. "Has he gone after Edward yet?"
Red leaned in, closely examining a cut on her stomach. She visibly flinched. "Did that hurt?"
"No..." she answered a little too quickly.
He grinned, "Ticklish?"
She narrowed her eyes, making him laugh. "You act as though I'll use that knowledge to my advantage one day."
He touched her with more pressure, before cutting the thread. "No, he hasn't gone for Edward yet." Her stomach tightened when she felt his breath skirt over her warm flesh.
His glanced at her, his gaze a noncommittal one. This woman was most sensitive to touch. Never a bad thing in his point of view.
Red Reddington enjoyed all aspects of women. Their weaknesses, strengths, insecurities, confidence... the whole package fascinated him.
Lowering his head, he went back to work. "Besides, I think Carver made the team following Edward."
"Why do you think that?" She gasped when his index finger skimmed lightly against her belly button.
"With where I've sent him, Carver has had ample opportunity to make a grab for Edward." Red blew across her stomach, brushing off the stray threads. And if he was honest with himself, hoping for a reaction from her. And he got one when her stomach rippled and her eyes fluttered closed.
Finishing his task, Red helped the woman back into her shirt, averting his eyes as she buttoned the lapel.
"What are you going to do?"
"Get you dressed and fed."
"I meant–"
"I know what you meant. Let me worry about that. All that's important right now is you."
Liz's favorite parts of the day were when they dined together. She enjoyed watching Red Reddington being domestic, but mostly she had grown to love the discussions that took place over the meals.
For the first couple of days, Dembe had kept his silent vigilance off to the side, as was his way.
"I've been trying to get him to eat with me for years but he refuses." the man explained, having seen the situation vexed the woman to no end.
"You steal my fries." Dembe had mumbled.
And it went on from there. Friendly banter between the two men who had known each other for years.
Both so different, but yet so similar in nature. One boisterous, the other quiet. Outgoing, shy. Impulsive, cautious. Oil and water, but they mixed together somehow just perfectly.
After Dembe had left the room one day, Liz asked Red why the large man really refused to sit at his table.
"I made the mistake of taking him with me to meet an honest to goodness, mobster." Red waved his fork in the air. "Dembe saw this guy's bodyguards sitting at a different table, eyes on both doors. So of course, he picked up the habit." he swallowed his food before continuing. "Occasionally he'll join me, but it's very rare."
They'd been dining for about ten minutes when today, Dembe made his appearance.
Red continued his story, the narrative nearing the end, "Natalia and I had a pleasant night then Dembe and I left in the morning."
Dembe shocked Elizabeth totally by bringing his plate and coffee, taking a place across from Red at the table.
Dembe, while cutting into his sausage, scoffed loudly.
"Dembe..." Red sighed, "I'm telling this story."
"What?" Liz glanced between the men, one perturbed, the other amused. "Okay, what's going on here?" she could not hold her own smile.
"Nothing." Red sipped his tea, giving the other man an ominous brow. The muscled man smiled in return to the glare he was receiving, popping a piece of bacon in his mouth.
"Dembe. What's he hiding?" Liz was all ears. "Come on!" she beseeched. "Now I know something happened. You have to tell me!"
Red sat back in his chair, folding his arms leisurely. Dembe immediately pulled his chair closer to the woman, eager to tell his version of the events.
Red accepted his fate with good graces.
"He's leaving out... that another woman that had been interested in him that night, told Natalia that he had been making advances to her." the gory details were gleefully related.
"I can't speak of the events that took place after he left with Natalia, but I do know sometime during his stay there... Natalia left with his pants and the phone from her room." Dembe shook his head woefully, embarrassed for his friend. "He had to walk back to our rooms in his oxford shirt and boxers... and nothing else."
Liz giggled behind her hand, envisioning Red walking straight and proud through the hallways, half naked. She wondered if he had put on his fedora?
"Why didn't you just call Dembe to bring you some pants?"
"She left his phone at the front desk." Dembe was only too glad to supply that bit of information.
"Look who's a heavy sleeper." Liz poked fun at Red.
"We never did actually get to sleep." Red poked right back. "When she received a call from her man in Tunisia, I showered." He sipped his coffee. "I should have left her basking in the afterglow before making myself vulnerable or better yet, I should gone to my room." He shrugged, then took a bite of his waffle.
"Why didn't you?" Liz asked curiously.
"Truthfully, I was hungover. An oddity for me." he now knew why however. "I had a splitting headache and felt like hell." he remembered the incident but not fondly.
"By the time I went walking off to my room, I could have given a damn about what I was or wasn't wearing." he looked at Dembe meaningfully. "Really, everyone should have been happy I got dressed as much as I did."
"What had you been drinking?"
"The usual. Which is why I went looking for her." Red smiled. "It wasn't until I tracked the little minx down, that she confirmed she had spiked my drink when I was distracted."
"So that's why you always carry your glass or have it in reaching distance now." Liz finally understood. "What happened to her?"
"I turned her in on a small drug charge." he held up a stilling hand. "Had to serve only a year, but for her it was pure torture." he offered a sympathetic face. "I imagine she'll be at Mark's this year trying to rebuild her contacts... and to kill me."
Great... thought Liz, as if it wasn't enough, she was nervous as hell to be around his friends, now she had to deal with one of Red's old lovers as well.
She was aware that she paled in comparison to Madeline. Who knew what other type of women she would be compared to while there. This was becoming more difficult as they went along.
Dembe finished off his breakfast, then informed Red he was going to check in with the guards. He excused himself and left.
"What's wrong?" Red stacked his dishes, pushing them to the side.
"Nothing..." She fiddled with her napkin. A sure sign to Red that something was in fact, bothering her.
"Lizzy. I promised not to lie to you. I would hope you would return the favor." He added mumbling, "At least most of the time."
"Exactly how many of your old lovers might be at Mark's?"
"A couple, maybe. Why?"
"I'd like to prepare myself."
"I will be there you know." he reminded. "You won't have to face them alone."
"Yeah, until you go off for something work related or I go to the bathroom." she sighed heavily. "Women have a weird habit of cornering one another in the ladies room."
"I did not know that." he confessed, holding his amusement. "Listen, most of my old paramours are more concerned with my demise and the method thereof... they probably will not even notice you are about."
"Thanks..." the woman replied peevishly. "That makes me feel so much better."
"Lizzy, I got you a little gift." Red said, rounding the corner into the bedroom. "And I think you're really going to enjoy it."
"What is it?" She asked warily.
"Dembe's bringing it... I think?" Red glanced back out the doorway. "He was playing on it in the drive..." he smiled, backing out of the way, "oh, there he is."
Dembe came barreling around the corner on a motorized scooter, pulling up beside the smiling woman.
"For me?" Liz was honestly touched by the gesture.
"Yes, though I'm second guessing myself, seeing how fast that thing goes." Red cast Dembe an obscure look, as he helped Liz into the seat.
"I won't go fast." She said, looking over the controls.
"Yes, and the sun won't come up tomorrow." Red quipped benignly.
Dembe smoothed his hand lovingly down the side of the black shiny exterior.
"This goes forward," He showed her the movement on the handle bar, "this is backwards."
"How cute, its even got a little basket." she traced the basket happily.
"Well, try it out." Red waved her forward. Backing himself and Dembe out of the way when she lurched forward then spun in a quick arc.
"Wow..." she was visibly impressed, "this thing does have power."
Dembe nodded knowingly. Red gave him another obscure look.
"Yes, it does. So be careful." another look was tossed Dembe's way. The stoic man's face was all smiles.
Liz eased the handles forward, smiling as the contraption moved quickly to the door.
"Ahh, blessed freedom." She backed up hastily, grabbing her book from her table then plopped it in her basket before taking off. "Thank you guys so much. I love this." her voice faded as she disappeared down the hall.
"I think we're going to regret this, Dembe." Red philosophized, sighing heavily upon hearing a loud man's yelp off in the distance.
"Sorry..." the woman truly sounded apologetic.