He returned with a satchel that looked like the traveling medicine bags I used to see in old movies I watched with my sister when we were younger. He unrolled a piece of canvas that had slots for all of his tools. My eyes were immediately drawn to one of them--a scalpel. That was the closest thing to a weapon I had seen since my arrival at Sloane Manor that wasn’t attached to a guy way too big for me to take down on my own--but with a scalpel--I might be able to get out of Winter’s twisted funhouse a lot faster than I originally thought.
What if I don’t take advantage of this--don’t try. I may not get another chance for days--weeks--months.
The doctor cleaned the wounds on my injured wrist and bandaged it. I let him inspect the other one. It didn’t need anything other than a little cleaning and a smaller bandage. He was finishing up. My mind was spinning. I had to find a way to get that scalpel.
“Doctor…” I exhaled sharply. “Is there anything you can do about this?”
I lowered the blanket and rolled towards him so he could see the marks on my ass and upper thighs. The result of Connor’s cruelty--the switch that I was whipped with until the wood splintered.
“Oh my.” He blinked a couple of times--I doubted he was shocked by my naked body, but the marks gave him pause.
“I was a bad girl, doctor--but it still hurts.” I remembered the pouty, spoiled rich girl I used to be, and dove headfirst into her headspace.
“I--yes, I should be able to do something.” He cleared his throat and reached for his medicine bag.
The distraction was what I needed. The moment he leaned over to get a closer look, my arm stretched out until I was able to palm the scalpel. I liberated the thin surgical tool from the pocket it was stored in on his canvas bag and folded part of the bedspread over it. He didn’t notice.
“I will have to ask again if I can touch you, miss…” He held up the tube of ointment he used to sooth my other wounds.
“Yes, doctor. That will be fine.” I nodded.
The doctor rubbed ointment on my ass, upper thighs, and I could tell it made him uncomfortable. He was obviously not the kind of man that was used to treating women who were so clearly abused. Maybe I could have trusted him, but I couldn’t be sure. The only thing I could be sure of was the scalpel I took and what kind of damage it could do in my hand. I was becoming a person I didn’t recognize, but willing to go as far into the darkness as I had to if necessary.
“Okay, I think that is all I can do.” The doctor pulled off his gloves and deposited them in a biohazard bag. “I’m going to tell Ms. Sloane that I should treat you again in a week--I’m sure she will agree with my assessment.”
“Thank you.” I pulled the blanket around my body and scooted over towards the scalpel.
I’ll probably have a whole lot of new injuries for him to treat by then if Winter was serious about the things she intends to do to me--I had no reason to believe she wasn’t.
“You won’t say anything about this, will you doctor?” I tilted my head slightly.
“No ma’am.” He shook his head and winked at me. “Ms. Sloane pays me enough to keep her secrets. I’ve been doing that longer than you’ve been alive.”
It was an act. Fine. I got what I need…
In an instant, all of the trust that I thought I had for the doctor evaporated. He was an accomplice, not a kind old man as he originally appeared. Maybe it was a test--maybe Winter wanted to see if I would spill everything to the first person who treated me kindly and beg for help. I was glad I resisted the urge and trusted my gut. There was no kindness in Sloane Manor--just wolves who would devour a sheep with a smile on their face.
I put on the dress that I was supposed to wear and sat on the bed, simply waiting for the door to open again. When it finally did, I saw the maid who seemed nice--but I reminded myself that the doctor seemed nice too. If she worked at Sloane Manor, she had turned a blind eye to cruelty, so I had to treat her like an enemy.
“Are you finished, Ms. Cabot?” The maid motioned to the tray.
“Yes.” I nodded. “You can take it away.”
My heart started beating hard in my chest and my stomach twisted into a knot. I wasn’t a violent person, but I had to be if I wanted to get out of Sloane Manor. I wanted to stay--wanted to find out if Winter was responsible for what happened to my father--but that information would be useless if I didn’t have a way to use it. The opportunity presented itself in the form of the scalpel, I would be a fool not to take it. I doubted I would be able to hide it in my room for long with so many people coming in-and-out.