10. TEN
TEN
There’s no logical reason why I’m so fucking afraid right now.
This old dude is a doctor here to help me, but I know what questions he wants to ask.
It’s not that I’m ashamed or anything because I’ve accepted what I am and how I have to survive.
The fear acts like cotton balls in my lungs because I don’t want Hunter to pity me. Or worse— change his mind.
People get real fucking weird when they know shit has…happened to you. And I’m well aware that I’ll probably develop some PTSD or other fancy disorder related to trauma, but I’m holding onto what little strength I have left to keep it at bay.
“One of my jobs as a doctor is determining if your living situation is safe. I won’t pretend I am not aware of yours.”
“Thanks?”
He nods to my arm, and I shove up the sleeve to reveal the thick veins in the crook of it.
Tying a thick elastic band around my bicep, he flicks at the sensitive joint area before peeling the plastic away from the needle.
I look away fast. “I still have to ask these questions, even if they seem ridiculous.” I suck in a breath when a cool alcohol pad swipes at my skin. “Do you feel unsafe?”
“Always.”
The needle pricks me, but I barely feel it. “Has anyone hurt you?”
“Yes,” I breathe, my eyes fluttering shut.
“When?”
“A few days ago.”
“Did this person do that to your leg and eye?”
I shake my head. “The leg…no. That was…I don’t know who they were. Got jumped.”
“And the eye?” he prompts.
“Someone else.” I open my eyes—er, eye.
He removes the needle, pressing a gauze pad to the hole, and quickly tapes it. “Are you injured anywhere else, Gray?” His cool brown irises are kind when he catches my gaze.
I glance at the shut door, swallowing hard. “Yes,” I admit. It looked pretty bad, and I haven’t been able to go to the bathroom because it hurts. That’s the only reason I’m letting that truth slip free.
“If you are comfortable with showing me, I can have a look.”
As I slowly stand, my head moves on an automatic bob, but I remember Hunter is right outside. “I’ll tell him it’ll be a few more minutes,” Doctor Perry reads my thoughts.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll run STD tests along with the rest of your urinalysis,” Doctor Perry says from the other side of the door.
Dressing as fast as possible from inside the bathroom, I fail to get rid of the shame flooding my cheeks.
I’ve never had to do something like this, but I’m glad I did.
The pain is due to three fissures in my ass, but the doctor says they’ll heal up as long as I keep clean and use the fancy ass cream he’s prescribing me.
He’s also hooking me up with actual pain pills…but I have to visit his clinic and get fucking x-rays.
Yeah, I’m livid about that part.
When I leave the restroom again, the doctor is closing his briefcase full of my blood and piss. This seems like a regular occurrence for him. “How long you been doin’ this?” I ask.
“Practicing medicine? Or visiting hotel rooms of men who aren’t my patients?”
“That.”
He smiles and straightens. “I’ll admit, this particular scenario is a first. But I have been with Mr. Kade for eleven years.”
“So you’re his doctor?”
“From time to time.” He winks at me. “Shall we let him back in?”
“Yeah,” I sigh.
When I motion to move, Doctor Perry waves me off and eyes the chair meaningfully.
Right. I’m not supposed to walk around if I can help it.
I sit down while he lets Hunter in. The scent of tobacco floods the hotel, and I catch Hunter’s tiny shrug when the doctor narrows his eyes. No words are exchanged, but I suspect the older dude disapproves.
“I can pencil Gray in for tomorrow morning. In the meantime, he’ll need these filled. I’ll call the closest pharmacy to put in the orders. I’d recommend purchasing some crutches, too,” Perry tells Hunter and hands him my prescriptions.
I half expect Hunter to look them over, but he doesn’t. He folds the papers and nods. “Thank you, Perry. I’ll take care of it.”
“Keep off that leg, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The two exchange words at the door, but I don’t hear what.
I’m too focused on the fact I have to leave town if I want my leg fixed.
My chest pinches painfully. I’ve lived here my whole life—whether in a house or on the street, I’ve never left.
I don’t know anywhere else. Even when I was in the county jail those few times, it was local.
Familiar.
What if I go to this clinic, get all set up, and Hunter pulls the rug out from under me? I wouldn’t know the first thing about getting back—I wouldn’t know what bus to take or the direction to go. I don’t have access to the internet, and I sure as fuck ain’t going to ask a stranger.
My arms fold defiantly as the door shuts with a soft click. When Hunter faces me, I pop off. “You knew he’d make me go to his clinic. You knew. ”
“I was hoping the leg wouldn’t be broken, and you wouldn’t have to.”
“Don’t try to pacify me. I’m not a toddler,” I growl.
“That’s not what I’m doing,” he says coolly. “But this is the situation, Gray. Leaving a break untreated can create all sorts of problems.”
“I’m aware. I was told all about it.”
He stares at me with his hands in his pockets.
“So, what? I’m just supposed to leave with you? Go to this clinic?”
“It’d be in your best interest, yes.”
“Like that’s ever mattered before,” I snap, panting through my anger. Maybe it's fear, too. Regardless, I’m keyed up and ready to burst.
“Whether or not it has, it does now. All this has to be is one day. One.”
“And then what?” I demand. “What happens after?”
He takes a hesitant step closer. Those kind hazel eyes of his never looking away. “Whatever you want.”
“I want to come back.”
“Alright.”
“And you can’t try to convince me otherwise,” I insist, slicing my hand through the air.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Blowing out a breath, I deflate and shove my thumb in my mouth. After a long, awkward silence, I finally ask the question I’ve been dying to ask. “Hunter?”
His neatly groomed brown eyebrow raises.
“Can I bum a smoke?”