Bound (Secrets of the Djinn) Read Online Free PDF Page A

he rolls me towards him and he rams my shoulder back into its socket.  My scream is probably heard three miles away.
    “Damn, I’m glad that was you and not me,” Brielle says. 
    “Shut up,” Zane growls.  This is the first time I’ve seen him truly annoyed with his baby sister.  Brielle is wise enough to keep her mouth closed.
    Feeling along the joint again, Roman says, “ It’s in place now.  Does it still hurt like it did a moment ago?”
    I assume he means before his medical torture.  “No, it’s better.”
    “Good.  I’m going to roll you all the way over now.”
    I brace myself for the pain.  My shoulder may only be sore now but my wrist is still throbbing.  When I’m on my back, Roman lifts my arm and leans it against his leg while his fingers move up and down from my finger tips to my elbow.  “Pain anywhere other than the joint?” he asks.  I shake my head.  “Numbness or tingling into your hand or towards your elbow?”
    I nod.  “My thumb and index finger are numb.”  I know from my medical school classes this is a serious problem, otherwise I’d be relieved at the lack of pain in those areas.
    Roman pokes and prods at my wrist until I’m ready to scream.  “You have a Smith’s fracture.”  It sounds more like an accusation than a diagnosis.
    I remember the term from one of my texts.  “I landed on the top of my hand,” I confirm.
    “What’s a Smith’s fracture?” Zane asks.
    Scowling, Roman bends my hand slightly and I hiss in pain.  “When she put her hand out to break her fall, it was palm up instead of palm down.”
    Brielle snorts.  “You can’t even fall right.  You are a delicate flower.”
    “Brielle.”  There’s a warning in Zane’s voice.
    “What?   She is.” she snarks back.
    “What the sam hell is going on in here?” Hank’s voice booms from the doorway.  He has shotgun in hand and is looking for a target.  He thought my scream was from an attack.
    Zane doesn’t take his eyes from me.  “Skye fell.” 
    Hank’s confused.  “She’s just now screaming about it?”
    Brielle laughs.  “She fell again .”
    “There’s a snag in the carpet.  Her crutch got caught,” Zane explains.
    Hank searches the carpet.  When he finds the snag, he goes to it and bends down.  “This wasn’t here an hour ago.”
    Brielle shrugs.  “The crutches probably caused it.”
    Hank’s face is clouded with doubt as he looks at the rubber tipped crutches.  He picks each up, assessing it for sharp edges.  “These didn’t snag the carpet.”
    “I need to do an external reduction of Skye’s wrist,” Roman says, bringing all eyes back to him instead of the carpet.  Shit.  That’s going to hurt.
    “What do you mean?” Zane asks.
    “ He means I need a lot of whiskey and some more ibuprofen,” I mutter from the floor.  Roman’s mouth quirks up in a half smile.
    “Well, you know where the whiskey is,” Hank says with a wink.   Whiskey is the drink of choice around here, no sissy mixed drinks allowed.
    “What do you really need?” Zane asks.
    Roman chuckles.  “She was serious.”  His face sobering, he adds, “It’s going to hurt when I realign the bones.  The more pain meds she has on board, the better because she’s going to be in pain for a while.  This is usually done under anesthesia.  Relaxing her muscles with alcohol isn’t ideal, but it may make it easier to bear while conscious.”
    Zane looks down at my limp arm, still supported by Roman’s leg.  The bone didn’t break the skin, but it’s obviously fractured.  M y ulna is sticking up at an awkward angle and it’s virtually impossible at the moment for my arm to form a straight line.  The fact that my thumb, index, and now my middle finger are numb means an external reduction may be wishful thinking on Roman’s part.  I may end up with permanent nerve damage without surgery.
    “One of you boys get her upstairs.  You ain’t doing this while she’s lying on