Cracked Bleeding Knuckles Novels & Stories

Lea also felt the pain just from watching it beside her. The elderly doctor huffed, "Everything in here is all bruises. Without rubbing them to relieve them then, the swelling won't cease. In fact, it's like this because you didn't take good care of it when you first got injured. Kisa bit down on her lower lip and finally finished enduring the torture. When the doctor helped to change the salve for her ankles, Lea couldn't help but ask, " We won't need to rub it like this again tomorrow, right?"

There was a breaking sound as cracks danced their way to its surface. “Damn!” She gulped as a pricking pain embraced her knuckles, blood trickling from it. “What have I done?”

I lifted my hands and looked at them under the bright bedroom light. The skin across my knuckles was turning dark purple and blue. The cuts from her teeth and cheap jewelry stung. I flexed my fingers. A sharp pain shot up my arm, from my knuckles all the way to my elbow. My joints felt stiff and thick. "Damn it," I murmured to myself. I rubbed my right hand gently with my left fingers. The swelling was getting worse by the minute. I needed to go back downstairs and get ice from the kitchen, but I did not want to see Silas again. I did not want to see that stupid smile on his face.

Every time the metal door creaked open, I flinched. I kept my head down, staring at my feet as I sat on the wooden bench. My hands were the problem. I had taken off the thick white bandages from Jax’s place. Now, I had thin athletic tape wrapped around my knuckles. It looked like a normal hockey injury, but underneath, the skin was deep. My fingers felt stiff, like they were made of wood. "Yo, Cap. You okay?"

Once she was settled, the RN walked out. "How are you?" I asked. "Tired. You? Dr. Lockwood said he would look at your knuckles." I looked at my taped fingers and said, "One is broken, but he just buddy-taped my pinky and ring fingers. together." "Is that gonna be enough?" "It has to be; nothing else can be done." I knew I had to explain the condition of my knuckles. Thankfully, Lockwood had unknowingly helped me come up with an excuse.

And again. I keep hitting the wall until my knuckles are bleeding and my hand goes through the thin wood of my wardrobe door with a loud crack.

Just an annoying dull constant pain. I sat on my bed for about thirty minutes watching my hand. The pain was worsening, and I was not noticing anything happening yet. About five minutes later I saw my hand crack and bend and snap itself into place. Soon after I was able to move all but two fingers they had healed in the wrong place. I figured out from that experience that some of our healing needs to be guided so bones are in the correct placement. I had to re-break my two fingers, my ring finger, and my middle finger.

Contracts can always be broken. “Well, I have counted more than fifteen broken bones… Eleven of them being her ribs and both collar bones. Her entire left arm, upper and lower is fractured, and luckily, the upper came close to being a compound fracture but I have been able to get that mostly fixed… Her right humerus is fractured in two spots and I am working on accessing her neck and head right now.” Bart explained feeling Karen’s neck carefully. “I haven’t had a chance to look at her hands yet either…”

It was the tone he used on his guards. I reached the bottom of the stairs and walked across the marble floor. The cold stone sent a chill up my legs. I stopped two feet in front of him. He was breathing heavily. He smelled of sweat and copper. "You are bleeding," I said, looking at his hands. Kade looked down at his knuckles and the skin was split open. Dark blood oozed from the cuts, dripping onto the pristine floor. "It is not my blood," Kade said flatly. "Some of it is," I pointed out and reached out wrapping my fingers around his thick wrist. His skin was burning hot. He tensed immediately, trying to pull his arm back, but I held on. "You split your knuckles open. You need to clean them

My head was spinning at the movement alone. “Do you guys always do this?” I questioned him as I rubbed my head. “About once or twice a week since it is kind of exhausting.” “I can’t imagine that.” I groaned as I looked at my bare hands. They were bruised and the skin was peeling off of my palms and knuckles. Jack grimaced as soon as he saw it. “That has got to hurt.” Jack commented.