Nineteen
I shoved Reacher away for the third time.
“I need to check on Camille. She freaked out or something, and she needs me.”
He grabbed me again, dragging me toward the doc’s damn infirmary.
“I don’t know what the fuck you did to that poor girl, but her exact words were ‘keep him away from me’, so as much as I hate to think badly of you, I’m not letting you near her right now.”
I slumped in his hold, and he stopped to glare at me.
“She said what? What the hell is going on?”
“You’re gonna get your injury sorted, and then we’ll figure that out.”
“I’m fine, it’s just a bit of blood. I think we over-reacted. Honestly, it’s all good.” He shoved me at the door just as it opened, and I staggered inside.
“Morning VP, let’s see what you’ve done to yourself then.”
I shot him a glare, and stepped out of reach.
“I’m fine. It was all a misunderstanding, brother. I’m sorry if they woke you unnecessarily.”
Doc glanced at Reacher, and it was enough for the bastard to pull the door closed, leaving me in the infirmary with the doc.
“I’ve seen the records on the biopsy and surgery, brother. I know what you had done, and where, so there’s nothing to hide, or feel ashamed about, okay? Reacher said you tore stitches, but my understanding is that they shouldn’t even still be there.”
I shrugged. “Didn’t bother going back for the last appointment. No point until I know whether I’m dead anyway, right?”
“Prick. Get your jeans and underwear off, and get up on the table. I’ll get you sorted out in no time.”
I stared at the table, picturing myself there, half naked, while this man I’ve known for too long has his hands and eyes on my junk.
“I… fuck me, I can’t okay? It can’t be you. Not you, man.”
He shrugged, unconcerned. “Got junk of my own. I’m familiar with how it all looks, in fact, I’m more familiar than you. See, I went to a fucking school to learn how to fix all manner of shit, including torn stitches, and including injuries below the waist. So man the fuck up, and get up there. I have other shit to do today.”
He turned and rummaged in a drawer, turning back around as he slid surgical gloves on.
“I need to see the area, brother, and I need to see what’s bleeding. Your stitches were due out, so technically the possibility of tearing them isn’t high, so I need to see what happened. The sooner you let me look, the sooner you’re out of here.”
Jesus. I glanced at the door one more time, and took a deep breath. I can do this. It’s just my most intimate fucking area, in front of the eyes of a man I’ve had many a drink with in the bar.
I lowered my jeans, and then hooked my thumbs into my boxers.
“Brother, I’ll be as quick as I can, but trust me, you’re not going to shock me, or find any reason in this room to be embarrassed. I saw your notes, and I know what to expect.”
“Do me a favour and keep your back turned until I’m ready, doc. This is the weirdest fucking situation I’ve ever been in, and in this club, that’s a pretty tall order.” He laughed, and turned to give me the last moment of privacy before I bared the remains of my junk to him.
“Ready? Okay, let’s take a look at what you’ve done to yourself.” Doc turned, and leaned over me, while I laid my arm across my eyes, and pretended to be anywhere but here.
Cammy
I was frozen with fear, trapped in the past, and barely aware of what was going on around me. I was stuck firmly in the flight phase of fight or flight, and all I knew was that I needed to get somewhere safe.
“Cammy, babe, look at me. It’s Lissa. You’re safe, Cammy, I promise.”
A cool hand stroked my face, and I flinched for a moment before my eyes focused on the face in front of me. It really was Lissa, and she looked worried.
“Lissa?”
“How the hell did you do that? I’ve been trying for five minutes.” I dimly realised Has-Been was still with us, and I didn’t understand why. Then I remembered that Stitch was upstairs, and he’d be coming back down here.
“I need to go before… before he comes back.”
Lissa glanced at Has-Been.
“He?”
“Stitch?” Has-Been stood up. “Do I need to kick his ass?”
Lissa asked him to give us a minute, and he headed for the bar, leaving the two of us alone. We were sitting on chairs opposite each other.
“What happened, babe? You came here with Stitch?”
I nodded, a tremor going through me at the mention of his name. How could I have been so wrong about him?
“Did he hurt you, Cammy? I’ve never seen you like this.”
Someone approached us again.
“I made her a sweet tea, dunno if it helps. They always say on TV that it does.”
“Thank you, Tommy. Cammy, talk to me, because I’m starting to freak out here.”
“There she is, thank fuck for that.” It was him! I lurched out of my seat, and tried to put distance between us, almost tripping over a table leg.
“The fuck did you do to her, man? She’s practically fucking catatonic! ”
“Camille, please, girl. Look at me. It’s just me, you know I won’t hurt you. I’m sorry I yelled, but I wasn’t yelling at you.”
“You did this to her?” There was a thud like something hit something, and a crashing sound, as a table toppled over. The sudden loudness shook me out of my stupor, and I glanced around me, blinking against the details finally starting to stand out around me. Lissa was beside me with Ice, and Reacher was helping Stitch up off the floor. Has-Been was glaring at him like he wanted to kill him.
“What’s… what happened?” Everyone looked at me then, and I backed up a step.
“I’m sorry, I uh… that hasn’t happened for a long time.”
Stitch shook free of Reacher and approached me, and it took every ounce of courage to stand my ground, and not back up again.
“Camille, my god, why were you afraid of me? I couldn’t hurt you, you know that, right?”
I swallowed hard. “I thought I did.”
“Did he fucking hurt you? I’ll put him through that fucking window if he did.”
“Seth! What’s going on! Who’s this?”
Reacher let out a curse, and clapped his hands once to quiet the voices in the room.
“This isn’t a fucking sideshow. Everyone out but them two, and Lissa and me.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Pres.” He rolled his eyes at Ice.
“Fine, but that’s it. Everyone else out.” The young girl who’d called Stitch ‘Seth’ looked worried, but I caught her eyeing Has-Been, and then she hurried out of the room before anyone yelled again. Why didn’t it freak me out when Reacher raised his voice, but somehow Stitch had scared me so much?