Cell Bound:
Detective Doyle Longstreet leaned against the cool bars, and said, “I hope you understand holding a police officer against his will is a serious crime.” He felt his temperature rising in the damp, dark cell. Damn it, he thought, stretching out his right arm through the bars, he failed to grab the closest captor.
The two black-robed guards ignored his threat.
“Look, fellows, my arm is killing me. Can I get some water or something... it might get infected.” Doyle inspected the wrapping Helena had placed over his arrow wound, the blood had soaked the impromptu bandage and dripped down his fingertips.
While Doyle was distracted, a guard answered his request for water with a large wooden bucket full of freezing salt water, dousing his raggedy man disguise. The sudden shock soaki
