Chapter 12 #2
“I know. No good patient would.” He moves his hips again, his movements rough and hard.
I’m rolling with pleasure from the ache and the wonderful way his cock strokes over the part he reminded me needs more attention.
Rolling his hips, he hits it again, and we’re like two rubbing sticks creating fire together.
He strokes my nipples and kisses my neck, his hips meeting with mine in perfect motion.
Pleasure erupts inside me as the sound hits my prostate at the same time as his cock, and I’ve never felt more alive.
He empties himself inside me, his warm cum filling my hole and cock throbbing inside my wrecked channel.
Comfort washes over me as he cleans me up and cuddles me in his arms. I close my eyes, letting myself enjoy feeling safe.
Right when I’m worried I won’t have that panic of things going wrong at any moment, I wake up to all the stuff I stole laid out around me.
He had it all this time, and now, he has me too.
Slowly sitting up, I touch the clean gown draped over me, and the sound is gone. He is too. I reach out to the Kindle and then an Experience sweater. He took it from where I hid it before picking me up, didn’t he? He was home all along and . . . and . . .”
“You’re awake.”
“You . . . you asshole. You tricked me.”
“No. I helped you see what you couldn’t on your own.”
“They . . . my friend didn’t take it?”
“He wanted to but that wasn’t part of our deal.”
“Your deal?” My stomach clutches. “Were you working together?”
“No. He was in my way and I needed him out of it. Your boyfriend too.”
“You’re the reason they ran off together.” I rub at my head, feeling like I’m on a never-ending merry-go-round.
“No. They were going to do that anyway but couldn’t because your friend was in my debt.”
“What . . .” I grab at the sheets, trying to tug them off me, but it’s like everything I do is happening in slow motion. “Who are you?”
“Sam. Your doctor.” He sits beside me, rubbing my back, causing my muscles to grow more tense.
“What do you mean he was in your debt?”
“You two aren’t the masterminds that you think you are. All the people you blindsided before were amateurs and not as observant as me. I learned not to trust people a long time ago, and when he first came to my house for dinner, he had this nervous twitch in his eyes.”
“He gave everything away on the surface.”
He nods, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Midway, he got up to use the restroom and left his phone behind. He made mistake after mistake, and that’s when I found the messages. Your little plan.”
My heart stops. “He was your first patient.”
“I’d hardly consider him that now. You make me realize more and more every day that he never came close. He was a pathetic placeholder that I wish I could have skipped all together. Nothing will ever compare to the real thing.” He tries to press his lips on my neck but I pull away.
“Don’t. He got the same deal as me.” I’m no more special to him than I was to Stephen.
“No, baby. He didn’t. He was to be my patient, yes, but only until I found someone better. He was my way to practice so I could ensure I was perfect for you. It didn’t matter if I messed up with him, but it matters if that happens with you.”
I swallow the thickness in my throat. “You don’t miss him?” What is wrong with me? This man tricked me. He made me feel like I owed him when I never did. He has his stuff and was okay with putting it at risk for something better. What if he does that to me?
He scoffs. “If anything, I regret all our interactions together. He was a waste of my time and is now the reason you’re pulling away from me. Don’t let him come between us. Don’t let him ruin anything else for you. Come back to me. Come back to leaning in and reaching my way.”
“Maybe we can make a new deal,” I say without considering my own words.
“What kind of deal?”
“They both got away and are living their best life.”
“I can promise you they aren’t.”
“What do you mean?” My own words echo in my ears.
“They wouldn’t leave things alone. At least your little friend wouldn’t.
He kept asking if we were good. If I needed anything else from him.
I told him no and he kept acting like he needed more reassurance, saying he didn’t want any problems later.
So I reported a drug deal happening at the place they were staying, planting heroin and fentanyl in every room. ”
“They lost the apartment?” A hint of satisfaction stirs inside me.
“Yes, and when I blocked his number, he emailed me asking about you. Something he had no right to do. I don’t think your ex knew about me.
He assumed you were sitting in a prison cell, not in someone else’s house and bed.
They aren’t happy, I promise you that. They aren’t even serving time at the same location. ”
“But they’ll eventually get out, won’t they?” What they’re going through isn’t enough. My friend willingly gave me to another person. He was worse than Stephen, because he knew what kind of man Sam was and was easily able to switch places if it meant he was free from the deal they made.
I don’t think he counted on me asking to prolong it or to feel at home here more than I have anywhere else.
He didn’t count on still feeling like he was missing out on something that I had.
So predictable and pathetic. I thought I was the loser in this situation, but in his eyes I’ll always win because I was born the person he’d always want to switch places with.
He didn’t want Stephen any more than he wanted to be Sam’s patient.
He didn’t know what he wanted or how to be his own person.
“What do you think we should do about it?” His warm breaths on my neck have me pressing into his hand this time.
“I don’t know. We can’t do much as long as he’s in there.
” That’s when what he said hits me. We. What should we do about it?
Because that’s what we are. A half the other needs to be whole.
He orchestrated this whole thing, and I was never getting out of this house without eventually coming right back.
It shakes me to the core, and I’ve never felt so unsettled, never so scared for my future, and it’s riveting.
I oddly need more of it. Sam really is a bad guy, worse than me and my friend combined, but he’s my doctor and I still need treatment. The dizzy spells tell me that and so do the headaches I’m getting from going too long without my pain meds.
He can help me with all that. And then he said something that makes me realize he has the perfect prescription to take care of something else too.
“I have a friend who’s a nurse practitioner at the prison. We met in college. He’s a lot like me. I think he can help with our little problem.”
A smile ghosts over my face. “And I think my friend needs a good nurse while he’s there.”
***
Sam makes a few phone calls, and while he waits to hear back from his contact, I ask him some more questions.
I need to know almost everything. Only almost. I can feel he’s keeping things from me that need to stay hidden.
I look in the trash, at the breathing tubes, and a chill comes over me.
He hasn’t used them on me while awake, but he couldn’t have used them on anyone else either.
He’d never cross-contaminate. He’d also never have another patient here again. Only me.
“When did he mention my name to you?”
He accompanies me to the couch, handing me a cup of hot tea. “He didn’t. When I said he wasn’t holding up his end the way I needed him to and was about to dial the cops, he stopped me, saying he’d find me someone else.”
“And then he gave you my info?”
“No. He said he would send you my way. That the robbery would still happen, but that I’d have the upper hand in it all.” He sips his drink, staring ahead.
“So, you didn’t know who I was before that?”
“I never said that.” He still doesn’t meet my eyes.
“I took your number from his phone before letting him know he’d been caught, and then later that night I looked you up myself.
When I figured out who you were, I started thinking of ways to use him to get closer to you, and when he came up with the idea he had, I knew it was the perfect opportunity. ”
“What do you mean you figured out who I was?” Why did he say that like he knew me?
“You’d been on my table before. Not the one here, but the one in my old surgical room.”
“Two years ago I had surgery,” I say, the revelation dawning on me of what he’s telling me.
“Your gallbladder removal,” he says, finally looking right at me.
“Holy shit,” I say, completely flabbergasted.
“You and that word,” he says, his tone lightening, and I’m the one looking elsewhere this time.
“You were my surgeon. I was so out of it I didn’t remember you from when you came to talk to me after.”
“It wasn’t the time for you to know me yet. Not like you do now.” He grabs my hand, bringing it to his lap.
“But I don’t know you now.”
“Yes, you do, remember? Go on, tell me what you know.”
“I know . . .” I press my lips together, breathing deeply through my nose before continuing. “I know you really wanted me here and never forgot who I was.”
“And.” He nudges my shoulder with his, and that sexy smile is practically contagious. It takes everything in me not to fold.
“You can help me with more than medical care. You can help me help my friend.”
“I can. Anything else?” His body knocks against mine playfully, and this really is just like another day of him asking his questions and acting like a normal person between his procedures.
Another day of him keeping me here, and me agreeing I want to be after going back and forth.
After thinking I hate him before he reminds me that I really hate the people who let me down, something he’d never do.
“I know you still buy the newspaper because you prefer reading about events and what’s happening around the world the old-fashioned way.
You also clip out the comics and place them in a notebook of things that are guaranteed to make you smile.
” I was looking for scissors in his office yesterday and came across a green book with random clippings glued to the front.
He did things like other people, and also things I only thought took place in movies.
“You’re in there too now. Want to see?”
“Will you show me other pages?” I say, remembering how he closed in on me when I got to page two.
“I’ll show you whatever you want.”
He does too, and I don’t know whether to feel important when he allows me more into his world or horrified when I reach the middle of the book.
In several of the rules pictures, it’s me in the guest bed hooked up to IVs.
I have a mask on my face and my eyes are closed, and when I read what it says at the top of the page, I drop the book to the ground and scramble forward.
I fall and Sam picks me up, tugging me to the basement as I shake my head.
“You need to rest. You’ve had a long day. Rest and we can see more pages tomorrow.”
“Will it really be tomorrow?” My words are stiff. “Or will you just tell me it is and it’ll really be weeks from now?”
He was putting me under for days at a time, and sometimes way longer.
I’ve already done double my time here. I should have been far away from here by now, and I’m starting to want to be until he tucks me into my bed, whispering soft words no one has ever said to me before.
“I love you, Riley. My little patient. My everything.”
I make room for him in the bed and he smiles, lifting the blanket to squeeze in next to me, and he strokes my cheek, turning into me. “If you really want to go, you can, but at least let’s make sure you’re better first.”
“Okay,” I say, knowing now that neither thing could ever be true.
He holds me tightly, humming his favorite song and kissing my cheek while pressing something sharp into my neck.
I nuzzle against him as my muscles loosen and a loopy feeling comes over me.
The thing is, in order for me to be better, he has to actually want me to be, and he wouldn’t have anyone to treat if I was.
I also wouldn’t have my doctor or my steak dinners and someone who can give me another thing no one else can. Love.