Yes, he had the kit, but who was going to sew up Ryker’s face? He wasn’t sure he would be able to do it.

If Nikki can’t, you’ll just have to.

He’d had to do some pretty unpleasant things the year the surgeon had left an open gash in Kate’s stomach so the infection could seep from her body. Andrew remembered the smell, and the bubbling sounds he and Kate had called her baby volcano, signaling that the thick gauze padding would need to be changed. At the time, he just did what needed to be done. It was only later, when that crisis was over, that he’d get weak in the knees with the recollection of the sight and smell of the seeping wound and how often he’d had to tend to it.

Please, Nikki, be stronger than me, he thought as he rushed to give her the packet. It had several tiny spools of thread, a few needles, and a thimble so small, he wondered whose finger it could possibly fit.

Ryker saw the kit and his eyes bulged. “What’s that for?”

Nikki was doing her best to stem the tide of blood pouring from his face, but it was a losing battle.

“We have to stitch you up, bud,” Andrew said, feeling light-headed. Ryker’s face was unsettling to look at.

“Oh no you won’t.” Ryker tried to get up, but Nikki grabbed him by the shoulders and eased him back into the chair. He had a hard time pronouncing words correctly through his split lips.

“Andy’s right,” she said, a tear dangling from the end of her chin.

“If anyone’s giving me stitches, it’s going to be a doctor!”

Andrew pulled a chair over and sat in front of his brother-in-law. “In a perfect world, that’s exactly what would happen. But that thing is out there, and it demolished the car. We have to do this now before you lose any more blood.”

Ryker looked at Nikki, who simply nodded while she bit her bottom lip.

“It’s going to hurt like hell. Do you have anything to kill the pain?” Ryker said nervously.

Before Andrew could tell him about the bottle of whisky, Ryker’s eyelids fluttered and his eyes rolled up and out of sight. His body slumped forward, but Andrew caught him before he fell over.

Andrew checked his pulse, which was still strong.

“We should do it fast while he’s still out,” he said.

Nikki unzipped the kit and immediately started threading a needle, her hands trembling so much it took her numerous attempts. She looked ready to crumble. If she passed out, Andrew would be the only one left who was conscious.

“If you want, I can do it,” he offered.

She took a shaky breath. “He’s my husband and my responsibility. If anyone’s going to stab him repeatedly, it should be me.”