4. Improper Use of Medical Equipment
4
Improper Use of Medical Equipment
Theron
I was furious with her. Seeing Ever laid across her floor, skin white and barely breathing had created a fear inside of me that was alien and unwelcome. I had known things were bad from reading her files, but I had ignorantly thought she was serious when Ever exhibited a will to live.
I stared down at her sleeping form, wild curls spread across her pillow as she groaned and twisted in her sleep. She did this often — the nightmares ruining her rest and making her reliant on stimulants like nicotine. She was far less angry when she slept, hands curled around a thin blanket and lips partly slightly. Ever was beautiful — too perfect for the world she was forced to live in.
She had a small, up turned now that made every turn of her head seem guarded. Her large eyes, when awake, made her seem both furious and innocent. An angel, fallen from heaven and right into my waiting hands. I would take care of her.
When they came to fix her door, I had the locksmith give me a spare key. A few dollars slipped into the right hands would make anyone nod their head without asking questions. Now, I’d be able to check on her when it pleased me. I hoped rather that she would not be here for long, and would be settling into my own life after she realized that I wouldn’t hurt her. That she could trust herself with me.
Moving about her apartment, I familiarized myself with the things she held dear enough to allow in her life. I’d have to make room for them too — gladly. She was a collector, if not hoarder, of books. This brought a smile to my lips, and I thought that it was perfect for her to be such a bibliophile. My own home library was stacked with rare tomes and leather-bound classics, but hers were well-loved and used.
Other than rows of books and dead hour plants, there wasn’t a spec of rationalization or character in the space. The walls were empty of photos — of anything really. Boxes still sat in her kitchen, unopened from when she moved in awhile ago.
Not planning to be around for long, were you rabbit?
My eyes flickered back to the living area when Ever whimpered, her legs thrashing slightly as she turned on the small futon. She was sweating, dark curls clinging to her neck and cheeks flushed a deep pink.
“Stop,” she groaned in her sleep. “Please.”
My chest tightened with sadness and a deep-seated need to comfort her. I knew she would never allow it, but I wanted to hold her close and promise that to chase the nightmares away. I’d find a way into her dreams, and protect her even there.
“Hmhmm,” she whimpered again and, eyes pinched in obvious pain.
My resolve snapped. I couldn’t let her stay in the nightmare any longer, but I couldn’t damn well wake her myself. She’d scream, thrash and try to throw me out on my ass like she had yesterday. I exited her apartment, closing the door softly before taking out my phone and dialing her number. The phone rang shrilly from the other side of the new door, and I could hear her moving about.
“Hello?” She asked into the phone with sleep still lacing her voice.
“Good evening, rabbit. How are you feeling?”
She groaned. “What time is it? Why are you calling me?”
“Maybe I missed the sound of your voice,” I said and held my tongue when she huffed angrily.
“Okay, then listen closely. Fuck. Off.” She hung up the phone, and I had to taper down my anger and intrusive thoughts of breaking her door down again.
I rang her again, and smiled to myself when I heard her loud curses from the apartment. She sent my call to voicemail, and I rolled my eyes before knocking on her door. It was quiet, and I could imagine her clover-green eyes wide in alarm as she tip-toed across the wooden floor.
“Hello?” She asked from behind the closed door.
“Hanging up on me was rather rude, little rabbit. Open the door, please.”
I tried to keep my voice calm, but my palm itched to be smoothed over her skin, and my mouth salivated at the thought of her pulse between my teeth.
“Go away!” She yelled with a slap against the wood. “I’ll call the police!”
I shoved my hands into my pockets, rolling my eyes at the false threats. Ever wouldn’t get officers involved because she was scared of authoritative figures. It had been the police who ripped her from the closet of her childhood home, kicking and screaming as they forced her into a psychiatric institution at the demands of her mother. I very much doubted she had forgiven such a thing.
“If you open the door, I promise to keep my hands to myself.”
“Liar,” she snarled.
I took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t break your trust, rabbit. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Truly, it wasn’t a promise I’d like to keep, but I’d do it for her. I wanted nothing more than to stitch her body to mine, feeling it move and breathe as one — all in good time.
The door cracked open, and her angry glare shot through my heart. I smiled wide, softening my gaze. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”
She blinked, teeth biting into her cheek as she watched me cautiously. “I’ve been better,” she hissed. “And I’m not your sweetheart .”
Lowering my head, I showed her that my hands were securely in the pockets of my jacket. “A promise is a promise,” I said with a pout. “Let me in, rabbit.”
She shook her head slowly, but I could see a crack in her resolve. “This isn’t acceptable behavior, Hawthorne. Stalking is a crime.” She punctuated crime as if it should deter me.
“So is buying drugs, but I won’t tell if you don’t.”
She scoffed but opened the door a little more so that she was leaning on the door frame. She had thrown a black robe over her sleep shirt, and her hair floated around her face like it was charged with static.
“I think the police would be far more concerned with your breaking and entering, considering half of this neighborhood is shooting heroin. A few pills in my apartment? They wouldn’t bat an eye.”
She was right, of course, but I still pushed on. “Why don’t we save the brave boys in blue a trip to the South End tonight? I just want to talk, Ever. I’ll keep you company for half an hour, check your vitals, and then I’ll leave.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That would involve touching .”
I stood still, eyes focused on her form, which was illuminated by the flickering porch light, and smirked. “I can be careful.”
Her hesitancy was overcome, and she stepped back to let me into her apartment. I sat on the edge of her table, legs on either side of her knees as she stared me down. She had begrudgingly opened the door after admitting to having experienced heart palpitations a few hours ago. Her robe was open, showing the thin tank top made of white cotton and edge in delicate lace. She looked delectable. The soft glow of a table lamp had cast a warm light over her, and the soft skin of her neck was illuminated. Everything about her was alluring to me — called out to my soul.
I had brought a few medical tools in my jacket, adrenaline in a syringe just in case I had found her unconscious again, and my stethoscope. I push the earpieces in, looking up at her through my lashes. She was tired, dark circles lining the bottom of her eyes and her veins were even more prominent then before.
“This might be cold,” I told her before raising the diaphragm to my mouth and breathing on it soundly. My warm breath ghosted past the chest piece, and she sucked in a breath as it wafted over her skin.
She shivered, eyes darkening as she focused on my mouth. “Just — let’s just get this over with, okay?”
I winked at her, much to Ever’s horror, and sat forward until I could press the diaphragm to her chest. The moment it touched her, she flinched away from me and whimpered like a scared animal. That would not do.
I raised a brow in question. “You have to be still in order to get this over with ,” I teased her.
Ever glared at me but moved back into place with a shake of her thin shoulders. I let my gaze drop to her chest, seeing the faint outline of her pink areolas and growing nipples. My tongue darted out across my lips, and I craved to taste her there. Again, I touched the cold metal to her chest, and she flinched but didn’t move away.
“Good girl,” I praised her with a smile. Her cheeks heated, but she didn’t look away. I had a feeling praise was something Ever always craved, but never received from those around her. I would worship her, if she let me.
Keeping eye contact with her, I lowered the diaphragm below the edge of her tank top. The soft edge of the lace tickled my fingers, and I suppressed a groan.
Bump, bump.
Bump.
Bump.
Bump, bump, bump.
Bump.
Her heart was deteriorating fast, and her constant drug use wasn’t helping her already overworked muscles. The substance abuse was what had kept her off the transplant list, and I worried she’d drown herself in pills before I could find her a matching donor.
I was very careful not to touch her with my hands, per my promise, but we’d said nothing about using other means of riling her. I drew the metal across her skin slowly, the swell of her left breasts visible atop the shirt and begging for a taste. She pillowed out from bellow the thin material, and I could trace every swell of her with my eyes.
She was staring at me, not blinking, and her mouth was slightly ajar. Her breaths were coming fast, lip quivering. She was nervous, but the way her nipples tried cutting through the fabric of her shirt made me believe she was also aroused by my proximity. She wanted me, but she was trying to be cautious — it was smart of her. She had plenty of reasons not to be trusting.
Bump, bump, bump.
Bump.
Bump, bump, bump.
She took a deep breath, her heart rate increasing as I leaned closer. I could feel the warmth radiating off her body, and the smell of her lavender body wash was like an aphrodisiac. Everything about her was alluring, even the faint trace of smoke that clung to her curls.
I pushed down the diaphragm into the swell of her breast, the light blue veins splintering across her chest like wild vines. I wanted to trace them with my tongue. Ever’s face flushed when I moved it lower, ghosting the pebbled flesh of her areolas that were visible from the hemline of her shirt. They were a deep pink, the same color as her lips. She groaned slightly when the metal passed over the nipple and I hissed through my teeth. Fuck, this was certainly an improper use of a stethoscope.
“What are you doing?” She asked me with hushed worry.
My eyes were focused on her chest, my cock straining on my pants as I held myself back from latching my mouth around her nipple and leaving bite marks along her flesh. I craved to see her body dusted with red welts, teeth imprints, and slick with my cum.
Ever’s chest rose and fell hurriedly, and I let my finger slip from the chest piece so that my pinky grazed over the bumpy ridges around her nipple. I sucked in a breath, my own groans threatening to fall from my lips —
“Hawthorne?” She asked louder, and I blinked, drawing my attention back to her worried gaze.
I cleared my throat and sat back, immediately missing the feel of her skin against mine. I had let myself become distracted, something she was quite adapt in helping me achieve. “Your arrhythmia has worsened — at least from what your records had described. You have to stay away from the drugs, Ever.”
She sniffed, pulling her robe back over her chest and looking anywhere but in my direction. “What’s the point? I’m months from the morgue as it is.”
I bit my tongue, pushing the stethoscope back into my inner jacket as I repressed an urge to fuck the suicidal tendencies from her body. Could I give her something to live for? Was it so conceded of me to believe there was a chance I could change her mind?
“You’re certainly racing towards it.”
She scoffed, standing abruptly so that she was hovering above me. I was still sitting on the table, my hands clinging to my pant legs to try and stop that from taking hold of her and never letting go.
“You’ve done your little check-up,” she grits out through clenched teeth. “Now get out.”
I stood as well, our bodies separated by the breath she was holding. I bent forward, letting my breath ghost her cheek. “Goodnight, Ever. Dream of me.”
She shuttered, closing her eyes as I passed her and walked towards the door. With my hand on the knob, I looked over my shoulder to see that she hadn’t moved, but she was breathing heavily again. Ever held her arms over her chest protectively, clinging to the robe for security.
“Lock the door behind me, rabbit. There are dangerous people in this world.”
I left the apartment quietly, stopping below her dark window with a smile. Ever Knight was mine, and it was only a matter of time before she willingly fell into my arms where she belonged.