A devious thought occurred to me then. I smiled as Toby led me toward the door. “I have a plan."
Chapter "Are you sure this is the place?” Toby asked from the passenger seat. As I slid my hand around the door handle, I smiled at the Werewolf. “Trust me." "What a dump,” Karl commented from the back seat. Popping the car door, I stepped out into the cool air. Opening my arms I tried to stretch my tired body, but crumbled into myself as the pain receptors in my shoulder lit up like a Christmas tree. It was healing, but not fast enough. Slipping my hand beneath the coat, I held it over the bloody wound and realized it probably wasn't best to run around looking like this. Carefully peeling off my leather jacket, I folded it over my arm and walked around to the rear. I popped the trunk and looked inside. Moving the various bits of garbage out of the way, I spotted my spare bag of clothes pushed toward the back. I felt my shoulder ache again and I leaned in and reached for the bag. "What are you doing, Rosy?” Toby asked as he walked around the car. He must've spotted my shoulder as he stopped short. “What the hell happened?" I stood straight and looked at the massive bloodstains over my shoulder and down the front of my once white blouse. The shoulder was completely torn open revealing flesh that looked more like raw hamburger than anything else. I had even been forced to jettison my bra because the straps had been destroyed. I was a mess. In retrospect, I probably should have let Yaz take a look at it. "Looks like you got in a fight with a lawn mower,” Karl surmised as he stepped around Toby, “and lost." Pulling my attention away from the shirt, I readdressed Toby, “Gargoyle.” I unzipped the dark duffel bag and started to root through it.
"Gargoyle?” Toby grabbed my arm and pulled me up to face him, not realizing he had hurt me. I hid the pain surging down my chest and arm. “And when were you going to tell me?” He paused and looked into my eyes. “You weren't going to tell me." "It's not a big deal,” I said uncomfortably, not sure if it was his line of questioning or the searing pain in my shoulder that caused it. “I'll heal." "It's not that,” Toby said, shaking his head. “I'm your partner. You are supposed to tell me things like this."
I pulled away. “I didn't want you to worry. I'm fine. Not let it drop." The argument wasn't going anywhere. I understood Toby's point, but we didn't have time for this. Diving back into the duffel bag, I snatched a thin, black sweater and pulled it free. Shoving my keys into my pant pocket, I tossed my jacket into the trunk and turned back to Toby. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I really am. Now turn around."
The Brimstone Betrayal
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