Err on the Side of Violence: Terribly Acronymed Detective Club Series (Book 3)

Chapter Fifty-Four: Joe, Fall, 2011

Joe woke to a splitting headache, a stiff back and ribs that smarted, making it hard to breathe deeply. At least the arm was at a low ebb of pain in its sling. Rachel's head was still on his shoulder, and he could hear her slow, steady breathing in sleep. He realized he needed to pee, but he didn't want to wake her, because he didn't know how long she'd been sleeping, and she needed sleep as much as he did.

It was so quiet where they were. He wished he could see more of his surroundings. Didn't anyone visit this park? He couldn't hear any cars pulling in or out. Someone had to bring him to a hospital. He needed to set his arm and have the rest of him checked out. The fact that he woke up was a good sign he didn't have a serious concussion, at least, but who knew what kind of internal injuries he had after that beating?

He waited until he thought his bladder would burst, then sighed and brought his good hand up to stroke Rachel's cheek. 

"Mmmm," Rachel mumbled.

"Hey, Rachel," he said, low and gentle. "I need to get up."

His fingers ran through her hair and trailed down the back of her neck. He could tell himself he was trying to rouse her, but the gesture felt too intimate. He didn't stop, though. Her skin erupted in goosebumps where he touched, and she arched and breathed deeply, and groaned.

"Hey, Rachel," he said. "Are you awake?"

"Fuuuuuck," she groaned. "My mouth tastes like a sock, my eye feels like a grapefruit, and my whole body feels as stiff as a board. People our age need to sleep in beds, not sitting up against a tree."

"They also need to visit the bathroom more often. I'm going to spring a leak soon if I don't."

"Oh, shit, sorry. Let's get you up."

Once they were up, she led him to a secluded spot. He waited for her to give him some privacy. When she didn't back away, he cleared his throat and said, "Was there something you needed?"

"Just making sure you can unbutton and button your trousers without help."

"Um..." He fumbled with his button, and eventually, with some dextrous manipulation by his fingers, got that part done. "Good to go on the unbuttoning. I don't know if I'll be able to do the other."

"I'll stand by."

"You might want to stand by a few feet away. I don't want to embarrass you."

"Will you be able to hold yourself up while you do it?"

"I can manage."

She stepped back, and he did his business. Pulling his underwear and pants back up wasn't the problem. It was getting the button back through the goddamn hole with one hand. As if Rachel could read his mind, she was there, already doing the job for him, and he was the one who was embarrassed. 

"I'm sorry you have to do this," he said.

"It's not the first time I've fumbled with a man's pants." She was very businesslike about it, though, and was done in seconds.

"Thanks," he said. "Do you need to go?"

"I better."

He waited while she went deeper in the woods. When she came back, she put his arm around her shoulders and they began walking again.

"It's already the afternoon," she said. "Neither of us had anything to eat or drink since last night."

Her statement made him feel thirsty, but hunger wasn't an issue, even if he'd vomited everything in his stomach earlier. "What do you suggest?"

"If we walk a little we might find a picnic area, maybe a water tap, but unless we encounter any other people and play Yogi Bear on them, I don't think we'll be eating until we can get a ride into town."