9. NINE
NINE
I’m dying for a shower, and I’d kill someone for a toothbrush, but I ignore the unease clinging to me like a second layer of unshed lizard skin.
There’s some trepidation curling in my stomach when Doctor Perry pulls into the spot beside my car. He’s always been discreet and professional, but this is the most I’ve ever asked of the man.
Even…back then.
I slide my hands into my coat pockets, itching for a smoke, but I refrain while the older gentleman gets out of the car.
Cropped salt and pepper hair meets my eyes first, followed by a crisp navy suit coat. A white tie is knotted at his throat, and thin-framed circle glasses perch on his slightly hooked nose. Offering me a smile, he grabs the briefcase from the trunk of his car and approaches me.
“Mr. Kade,” he greets.
Snorting, I pull him in for a brief one-armed embrace. “I hate when you call me that.”
“I know.” Another smile, then he nods to the hotel. “Anything I should know about the patient?”
Plenty, but nothing I’m willing to divulge. That’ll be up to Gray if he chooses to do so. I shake my head and lead us to the room.
When I called Perry earlier, I only relayed the obvious—a possible broken leg and ribs, along with the swollen, black eye.
If x-rays are required, I’ll have to convince Gray to take the two-hour drive to Perry’s clinic.
I don't understand why staying here is so important to him, but if he refuses, I won’t force it.
I’m not holding my breath, though.
The curtains flutter shut as we approach, and I’m surprised to find the door open a crack. I chalk it up to Gray watching us approach and don't over-analyze it. Since meeting him, I seem to do that more and more.
Like that movie he mentioned we are emulating—the one that I couldn’t stop wondering how it paralleled last night. I fell asleep before finishing it, but I can see how he’d make the comparison.
Although, I don’t think Gray is a sex worker.
As we enter the room, I find him immediately. That thumb is in his mouth, teeth ripping at the meat nervously. I offer him a reassuring smile, moving out of the way for Perry.
“Gray, this is Doctor Perry. My personal physician.”
“It’s good to meet you, Gray.”
We watch him carefully as he dislodges the wet digit from his teeth and wipes it off on his sweats. “Hey,” he says gruffly and doesn’t move to shake any hands.
He’s watching the good doctor with instinctual hesitance— fear . “If it’s alright with you, I can look at what’s bothering you the most, and we’ll go from there?”
Gray glances at me, the small bump in his throat bobbing roughly. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Wherever is comfortable for you.”
I keep my distance, wanting to offer as much privacy as possible. Gray made it explicitly clear that I was not to leave him alone, so I’m not. Reaching to scratch discreetly behind my head, I try not to eavesdrop, but it’s unavoidable.
Gray lowers into the chair and pulls up the leg of his pants. “It’s probably broken,” he mutters before white-knuckling the armrests.
Perry’s face gives nothing away as he kneels far too gracefully for a man his age and carefully touches the bruising. Gray flinches but doesn’t make a sound. I flick my gaze to his face, noting the harsh way his jaw tics as his left cheek hollows out.
“On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is the pain? 1 being no pain at all and—”
“Eight,” Gray says immediately. “With the meds that…with meds, anyway.”
“So, the worst pain you’ve ever felt?” Perry glances up.
“No,” Gray whispers.
My eyebrow arches, wondering what injury he’s suffered that’s worse.
“Close, though,” he tacks on quickly.
Perry has him go through moving his leg this way and that way; all the while, Gray keeps silent.
Even when he winces and sucks in harsh breaths, he doesn’t cry or whimper.
It dawns on me that he’s afraid of being vulnerable with Perry, but I’ve heard both when it was just us.
When he fell by the highway and when he cried in the restroom.
Stop over-analyzing.
“I’m sure there is a break, but I’d need to x-ray it to see just how bad and where it is.”
Gray’s panicked eyes fling to mine. “You said he would do it here. Here. ”
“He is,” I soothe.
“Let’s have a look at that eye, yes?” Perry smoothly changes the subject, and Gray nods.
For the next ten minutes, Gray is picked apart by my doctor.
Perry is extremely thorough, not wanting to risk his patient by overlooking something, so when he confirms that there are no broken ribs and the eye beneath the swollen lid is fine other than a few blown blood vessels, I regret my decision to keep the other injury quiet.
The one that caused Gray to bleed all over the ass of his jeans.
I’m throwing out the pair the second I get the chance.
“I’d like to take a few blood samples and urine just to make sure everything on the inside is as it should be. High cholesterol is a silent killer of men.”
“Old ones,” Gray retorts.
“You’d be surprised.” Perry winks, flipping open his briefcase to retrieve his things. “Also, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Can we have Hunter step out for a minute? It’ll be quick.”
Thank fuck.
Gray squirms as the packaged sterile needle and tubes are placed on the table. “What kind of questions?”
“Private ones—all perfectly normal and part of my job to ask, as I do with all my patients.”
“Only a minute?” His voice cracks as he glances back at me.
“Maybe two.”
Sighing, he runs a hand through his messy bleach-blonde hair. “Okay.”
“I’ll be right outside,” I say.
I’m not leaving you.