Chapter Thirty-One
~ Jealousy ~
Kit
It’s been four days since I got home, since the doctor stitched my face back together. It still hurts like hell, a constant, tight, burning ache that pulses with every heartbeat.
I’m lying on the hospital bed in the smaller living room again. I tried sleeping in Soren’s bed, but he kept wrapping his arms around me in his sleep, and the pressure on my bruised ribs was unbearable. The doctor thinks I might have one or two fractures.
Doctor Brown is setting up his sterile table beside me, talking me through the process in his calm, professional voice.
“Removing the stitches should be relatively easy,” he says. “There’ll be a little pulling and a small snip as I cut under each knot, but nothing too painful. You’ve already had pain relief, so you should be fine.”
I told him I didn’t want anyone else here; I want to do this alone.
I’m tired of feeling like everyone looks down at me, like I’m fragile or broken.
I’m not a kid. This is my face. I want to do it in peace.
Even though I know Soren probably won’t be happy when he finds out; he’s not here anyway. He went out with Ray again.
I never realised how much time those two spend together.
Sure, they’re best friends, and Ray’s his second in command but…
I can’t stop the ugly twist of jealousy in my chest. It’s irrational, I know.
Ray’s been in Soren’s life for years longer than I have, and I’m pretty sure Ray isn’t even into men. Still, the feeling lingers.
The doctor pulls me out of my spiralling thoughts as he snaps on his gloves. “If you could lie back for me, Christopher,” he says gently. “I’ll start by cleaning the area.”
I nod and slowly lie down, my hands already shaking with nerves. I twist the bedsheet between my fingers as he gently dabs a piece of wet gauze over my face. The sting is immediate and sharp. Nausea rolls through me, but I squeeze my eyes shut and try to breathe through it.
“Alright, Christopher. We’re going to start. If it gets too much, you tell me and we stop. Okay?”
I try to focus on breathing, but my stomach is already churning. The nausea from the pain relief and the sight of the tiny scissors in his hand is making everything worse.
“First stitch,” he murmurs. “Small snip… and pull. There we go. That one’s out.”
I feel the tiny tug and the strange sensation of thread sliding out of my skin. It’s not unbearable, but it’s deeply uncomfortable. My face feels tight and hot.
Another snip, another pull; he keeps going like that.
“You’re doing great,” the doctor says steadily. “We’re about a quarter of the way through. Want a break?”
I nod quickly. He stops and lets me breathe for a minute. I close my eyes, but the room starts spinning behind my eyelids. When I open them again, the ceiling lights feel too bright.
“Ready to continue?” he asks.
I swallow hard and nod again, even though I don’t want him to.
He works slowly, talking me through every step. “Snip… gentle pull… good. This next one is a little deeper, so you might feel more of a tug.”
The pull is sharper this time. I whimper, my vision blurring. My stomach rolls violently. “Doctor… I feel sick,” I whisper.
He pauses immediately. “Okay. Deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth. That’s it.”
I try, but the dizziness is getting worse. The room tilts slowly. My hands are clammy and shaking.
“We’re more than halfway done,” he says encouragingly after another short break. “You’re being incredibly brave, Kit. Just a little longer.”
I nod, but I can feel myself slipping. The nausea is overwhelming now. Every snip and tug makes my head spin faster. Cold sweat breaks out across my forehead.
My vision tunnels. “Doctor… I think I’m going to…”
The words die in my throat as everything fades to black.
◆◆◆
I come around slowly, the world fuzzy at first. There’s a cool, damp cloth resting on my forehead, and I’m propped up slightly against pillows. The dizziness is still there, but it’s not as bad as before. Doctor Brown is sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me with a calm, patient expression.
“Welcome back to the world, Christopher,” he says lightly. “Have a nice nap?”
I let out a weak laugh. Even though my face still hurts, the pull of the stitches feels… less intense. I gasp in surprise.
The doctor smiles. “Feels better, huh?”
I nod. “Did you finish?”
“I did. You were only out for about eight minutes. The nurse got you the wet cloth. You’ll be alright, kid. A lot of people don’t handle the sensation well, especially on the face. You did good.”
I nod again, still feeling a little out of it. “So… how does it look?”
The doctor gives me a gentle smile. “Better. Want to see?”
I swallow hard. The last time I looked at my face I cried. But I find myself nodding anyway. He reaches for a handheld mirror and passes it to me. I take it with shaky hands, inhale deeply, and slowly lift it to my face. The second I see it, I lower the mirror instantly, gagging.
The doctor lets out a soft, understanding laugh. “The swelling will start going down properly now that the stitches are out. Don’t worry.”
But all I could see was the long, raised, angry-looking wound running across my cheek, over my nose, and up through my brow. It still looked raw and monstrous; I wish I hadn’t looked.
The doctor hands me a printed sheet of paper. “Now it’s up to you to look after it, Christopher. My job here is mostly done. For the past four days I’ve been washing it and applying the gel, but it’s a long road to healing. You need to get used to doing it yourself.”
I nod, understanding. I can’t keep relying on him for everything.
He taps the paper. “It’s all written down, but basically: I want you to gently wash the area two to three times a day with the mild cleanser I’m given you…
just warm water and a soft cloth, no scrubbing.
Keep the skin hydrated at all times. Use the cream I’ve prescribed twice a day, it’ll promote healing and, when scabs eventually form, it’ll help prevent them from cracking and bleeding again. ”
He continues, tone serious but kind. “Avoid any scented lotions, body washes, or perfumes near your face… they can irritate the scar. And for the first six months especially, you need to protect it from sunlight. Wear a hat for shade and use a high SPF sunscreen every day. Scars darken and thicken with sun exposure, so be diligent.”
I nod slowly, trying to take it all in. “Okay… thank you.”
The doctor gives my shoulder a light pat. “You’re going to be fine, Kit. It’s going to take time, but you’re already stronger than you think.”
◆◆◆
It’s been about half an hour since the doctor left.
I’ve just been lying here relaxing, the window cracked open so a nice cool breeze drifts across my face.
It helps settle the lingering nausea. Lorraine came in a little while ago with a fresh glass of water and we talked quietly for a bit, but now my eyes are closed again, just enjoying the peace.
Suddenly, heavy boots boom down the hallway.
Lorraine chuckles softly. “Here he comes, kid.”
I whisper quickly, “Pretend I’m asleep.”
The door swings open and Soren’s deep, rough voice fills the room immediately. “Christopher, why didn’t you…”
Lorraine cuts him off with a loud “Shh!” and says sweetly, “Will you hush? He’s resting.”
Soren grunts, clearly displeased. “Did you know the doc took his stitches out?”
“After it was done, yes,” Lorraine replies calmly. “But you were out with Ray, so what was the point in telling you right then?”
Soren growls low in his throat. I can practically feel his frustration vibrating through the room. He probably thinks everyone around him is being disobedient again. I don’t see what the big deal is.
Lorraine continues, “Apparently Kit fainted during it, then couldn’t look at his face afterwards.”
I hear Soren’s heavy footsteps, then the scrape of a chair being pulled right up beside the bed. Fuck. He’s sitting directly in front of me now. I have to force myself to stay relaxed and pretend I’m sleeping, even though my heart is racing.
Lorraine asks casually, “So how was your day with Ray?”
Soren sighs. “We visited the precinct.”
“Ooh,” Lorraine says. “How’s the captain enjoying his job? He’s been there for… what, about two years now?”
Soren grunts. “He’s doing good enough. Knows his place. We just smoothed over the ‘problem’ with the Vanderburns.”
Lorraine lets out a knowing little laugh, clearly understanding exactly what Soren meant.
He’d gone to the precinct to make sure the captain kept his mouth shut and quietly closed any case they might have had on the Vanderburn brothers.
What the hell am I even doing with a man like him?
He controls half the city, bends the law to his will, and I…
I can barely handle looking at my own face in the mirror.
Then Soren adds, “And then Ray helped me relieve some stress.”
My chest caves in. That burning jealousy flares up again hot and ugly. Helped relieve some stress? What the hell kind of sentence is that?
Even Lorraine snorts. “You know how that sounds, dear?”
Soren huffs a warning. “Lorraine.”
I can’t take it anymore. I slowly open my eyes and narrow them as much as my swollen face will allow, glaring straight at Soren. He notices immediately, already staring at me.
He reaches out and gently strokes his thumb across my cheek, just under the scar. “You really should have told me the doc was taking your stitches out today. I thought he was doing it later…”
I cut him off by slapping his hand away, keeping my narrowed glare.
Soren frowns, searching my face. “What’s wrong?”
I snap, my voice still raspy and edged with venom. “Stress relief?” The words drip with mocking bite; I don’t even care how nasty it sounds.
Soren growls low in his throat and Lorraine barks out a loud, delighted laugh behind us.
Soren’s eyes narrow into dangerous slits. “We went to the shooting range. Ray had set up a new course for us to practice on.”
I roll my eyes so hard it almost hurts. “Uh huh.”
I sit up slowly and yawn, trying to play it cool. Soren grabs my wrist, but I pull away, swinging my legs off the other side of the bed.
“Lorraine, I’d like to make a sandwich,” I say.
“I can do that for you, love,” she replies, already standing.
I take her offered arm as I stand. Soren immediately marches around the bed. “Lorraine, go.”
She nods with a knowing smile and leaves the room, leaving me alone with a towering, grumpy Soren. He reaches for my chin. I scoff and smack his hand away again.
Soren crouches down to my level, eyes intense. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I glare. “Me? Nothing… go away.”
He lets out an unamused laugh. “Excuse me?”
I mutter under my breath, “Go play with Ray or whatever.”
Soren stills. Then a slow, dangerous grin spreads across his face. “Kitten… are you jealous of Ray?”
I try to move past him, but he catches me easily. “You are, aren’t you?”
“Leave me alone,” I grumble.
Soren laughs, deep and genuinely amused, and picks me up.
I wriggle half-heartedly. “I will kick you in the balls if you don’t put me the fuck down.”
He just laughs harder and holds me tighter as he carries me out of the room.
I groan. “I hate you.”
“Mhmm,” he says, clearly not believing me for a second. “Sure you do.”
Thankfully no one sees us like this. When we reach the kitchen, Soren drops me onto the island counter and stands between my legs. I cross my arms tightly, blocking any affection he might try to steal.
Lorraine places a delicious-looking ham salad sandwich beside me. Before I can even reach for it, Soren picks it up and takes a massive bite.
I gasp. “What the fuck?!”
Soren grins, mouth full. “What? What’s yours is mine and vice versa.”
Then he winks and adds, “If you like, we can share Ray too.”
Right on cue, Ray walks in and freezes. “Uh… excuse me?”
I look down at the counter, hands resting on the edge.
Ray glances between us. “What am I missing?”
Soren, already moving to grab a drink, says casually, “He’s jealous.”
Ray laughs. “Of what?”
“You.”
Ray laughs louder and moves to where Soren was just standing. “Seriously, kid? I ain’t gay. What’s there to be jealous of?”
I roll my eyes and shrug. “I dunno…”
Ray pulls me into a quick, brotherly hug, laughing the whole time. It actually eases something tight in my chest.
I whisper, “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” he replies.
Then he’s suddenly yanked backward by his collar, nearly taking me with him. Soren’s large hand catches me before I can fall off the island.
Ray chokes dramatically. “Fucking hell, Soren!”
Soren growls, “Why were you hugging him? I was getting a drink for two seconds.”
I grab Soren’s arm. “Leave him alone, you great ape.”
Soren’s eyes widen as he looks back at me, not sure he heard that right.
Ray just laughs, taking a stool and saying, “Hey Lorraine, are these sandwiches on offer for everyone?”
Lorraine smiles warmly. “I’ll make some more, don’t you worry, Ray. But you owe me a rematch at chess.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Soren settles against me again, arms wrapping around my waist.
I sigh into his chest. “I’d really like to eat what remains of my sandwich, you know.”
Soren picks up the half-eaten sandwich and holds it in front of my mouth like I’m a child. I shake my head but take a bite anyway. Now this idiot is the jealous one… feeding me like he owns me.