No Angel

Part 6

The safe house Simba had taken them to was an average lakeside cabin surrounded by enough trees and bushland that it was nearly impossible to spot from the air. After a very brief stop for food and supplies, they'd made it to the house by mid-afternoon.

Andy helped get Simba inside and she made him lead her to the kitchen where she pulled herself up onto the bench next to the sink.

"Go bring that stuff inside," she told Andy, "I'll handle this."

Andy wasn't so sure he should leave her to tend to the bullet wound herself, but she waved him away so he went out to the car and started bringing in the few things she'd made him grab when they stopped.

After asking Andy for the bottle of vodka that she knew was in a top cupboard, Simba found the other things she needed in the drawers beneath her and ripped the hole in her jeans wide enough to see what she was doing. Simba knew she'd definitely gotten lucky with this one. The bullet may not have gone right through but at least it seemed to still be in one piece.

A swig of vodka down her throat, a splash over her leg and Simba grabbed the pliers to pull the bullet out. When it came out and she heard the little metal clink as the bullet dropped into the sink, Simba let out the breath she'd been holding through the pain. That wasn't even the hard part—the stitches she was going to have to give herself, that was the hard part.

Simba threaded the needle from the specialised first-aid kit she'd pulled from the drawer but when she tried to put it through her skin, she struggled.

"Are you," Andy began to ask, "afraid of needles?" He'd stood very quietly against the wall, watching her work, but now he looked dumbfounded.

"Shut up," she said through gritted teeth. "I can do it."

Andy wasn't convinced. "Did you want a hand?"

Simba couldn't even look at him. "I got it," she snapped, but even she wasn't convinced.

"I may not be an agent," Andy told her, walking over to her and holding his hand out for the needle. "But us band guys do get pretty extensive first-aid training—probably for situations just like this."

Sighing, Simba remembered he was right and handed over the needle. Andy put it down straight away and started cleaning the open wound properly by dabbing the alcohol on a clean rag. Simba had been so caught up in getting the damned thing closed up she'd completely missed that step.

"So is this your cabin?" Andy asked. Simba shook her head. "Whose then?"

Simba swallowed, focusing on what Andy was doing. "A friend's."

"And where are they?" He was trying to distract her from the pain, but he was really just causing Simba a different kind of pain.

"She's dead," was Simba's blunt answer.

"Phantom?" Andy realised.

The agent looked up. "How did you know Phantom?"

Andy finished cleaning Simba's wound and grabbed the needle. He rethreaded it with fresh thread and started to disinfect it. "Ah, I didn't. I know of her. Did you guys work together a lot? Were you close?"

"Phantom got me into Mayhem Inc.," Simba answered. "Her and my sister were pretty close, but I didn't know her at all. My life went on hold when my mum got sick and after she died, I didn't know what I was going to do with myself. Phantom told me she'd been freelancing for Mayhem Inc. and asked if I'd be interested. My sister was nearly finished school then heading overseas for uni, so I figured I had nothing to lose."

"Sorry about your mum," Andy said gently. Their gaze met briefly and Simba gave him the smallest hint of a gentle smile.

"Thank you," she said. "Anyway, I was seventeen at the time. The youngest Maurice had ever accepted to train, and I made sure he didn't regret it. I was good, really good. Soon enough I was one of the best."