Chapter 11 · Nobody's Malfunction

"That's not gauze." Levi's fingers dug under the wrap and I felt the panel's edge bite into his knuckle before he even pulled it clear. "That's a blood card, Ortega. Whose?"

"Yours now." I dropped my forearm across his collarbone and put my whole weight behind it, the gurney rail groaning under both of us like it wanted out of this too. "You wanted the cut closed. Hold still and it stays closed."

"Get off me." His voice cracked on the second word, not pain, something worse. Bone caught bone where my elbow ground into his sternum, and he sucked a breath through his teeth that came out hot against my jaw. "That card's dirty. I can smell the toner. Fresh out of the machine, Ortega."

"Then you already know what happens if it prints on the record instead of on you." I slid my grip to his wrist and pinned it flat to the rail, his pulse slamming under my thumb, mean and quick, right in time with mine. "Camera's live, commissioner.