I nodded, grateful that he and I were so in sync with this. I’d worked with medical professionals who’d required more instruction.
Then again, I had no idea what Riggs’s training might have been, did I? Because he hadn’t told me. Just like I had no idea why he’d been so excited when we overheard Mullet Dude in the upstairs hall earlier. And no idea if I’d really hurt his feelings when we were in the lab.
I tried to push all of that aside and focus on the patient, but it was difficult. I wasn’t sure hot and cold described the way William Riggs was with me anymore; it was more like boiling and frigid. There were moments when it felt like we were sharing something real, a connection that was about more than just sex or danger, but actual respect and appreciation. I’d found myself telling him things about my family, things about my past—stuff I didn’t share with most people… or really anyone—and he’d responded exactly the way I hadn’t known I needed someone to respond, with a commiserating look and a matter-of-fact attitude that said “I see you, but I don’t pity you.”
He’d shared stories about his family or about the missions he’d been on, but I wanted more than the facts and the funny anecdotes. I wanted to know how he felt about things—about his family and being in the Marines, about his job at Champion Security, about our chances of getting away from Gustavo. About me. But it felt like whenever I’d try to actually talk about feelings, he’d blank his expression, clutch his badass, commando pearls, and splutter about how we weren’t meant to be friends, Carter.
Why did that bother me so damn much?
I grabbed my flashlight so I could check Mullet’s pupils, but I glanced at Riggs out of the corner of my eye as I did my exam. He irrigated the man’s wounds with a firm hand and a reassuring smile. He was just so freakin’ competent. So trustworthy. I couldn’t help wanting him to trust me in return.
After Riggs finished cleaning the wound, I began swabbing it down with Betadine to disinfect it, and of course Mullet kept complaining.
“Sweet Jimmie Johnson! What the hell d’you think you’re doin’ with that brown stuff there, friend?” Mullet Dude attempted to scramble away, even when he would have scrambled himself right off the table and onto the floor. “You’re making it worse! You’re injurin’ my injury!”
“I’m trying to save your leg,” I shot back, which was an exaggeration, yes, but if it kept him still, I was beyond caring. “By all means, please keep moving around.”
That shut Mullet Dude up. At least until I began the sutures. I hadn’t known a single human could make so much noise.
“¡Ay, Dios!” Gustavo appeared at the doorway to the kitchen wearing a silk dressing gown, Lucrecia on his arm, just as I finished the final stitch. “¿Que esta pasando?” He snapped his fingers at one of the guards. “Alessandro!”
The guard cocked his head.
“Alejandro,” Gustavo ventured.
The guard tilted his head in the other direction.
“Alberto?” Gustavo guessed.
“Luis, Señor Santiago,” the guard corrected.
“Really? Hmm.” Gustavo pursed his lips, then shrugged. “Luis!” he said, as though he’d known the name all along. “¿Que esta pasando?”
I shot Riggs a glance, and he responded with a wide-eyed look. Seriously, how could the man not remember any of his associates’ names?
Luis answered back in rapid-fire Spanish, gesturing upstairs and outside angrily before finally pointing at Mullet and then at me.
“Doctor!” Gustavo said. “What is happening?”
I looked up from the bandage I was applying to Mullet’s leg and shrugged. “This man fell from a second-story window and cut his—”
Riggs’s enormous, booted foot pressed firmly on mine where Gustavo couldn’t see it, and when I glanced up at him, he gave me a significant look.
“Señor Santiago wants the truth, Dr. Carter. You don’t need to lie to stop him from worrying.”
“Er. Right.” I licked my lips. “The truth is, this gentleman has a severe laceration to the posterior portion of his left lower extremity.”
Santiago gasped and pressed a hand to his chest. He looked at Mullet with wide eyes. “My God. But he’s so young!”
“Severe lassy-who?” Mullet demanded. “Shiiit. I thought it was just a bad cut!”
I pushed my lips together. “He also has probable contusions and a possible hematoma in his, uh… his gluteal area.”
“You really are a doctor,” Mullet breathed.
“Oh!” Gustavo wiped a hand over his forehead. His skin looked clammy. “I cannot… Can you save him? This man, he has a crucial job that must be performed tonight. It cannot be delayed. If he is not able to do it, Gustavo will be furious!”
Back to the third-person thing again?
Gustavo clutched Lucrecia’s hand and leaned against her. “Can you heal him, Doctor?”
“I’ll try my best,” I said solemnly. “Er. Nurse Riggs, please assist me in putting on this bandage and turning the patient over.”