Page 23 of Her Way

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Present Day

Movingfrom the bathroom and into the hospital room, I am met instantly by a cute blonde. I glance down at the name tag hanging from her pocket, but her fob watch blocks the first letter. She smiles sweetly, so I reach out and brush the watch to the side to reveal the hidden K.

Katie.

I watch her throat roll as the tips of my fingers brush her shirt. “Nurse Katie?”

“Yes,” she says with a breathy exhale. “I came to check you, checkonyou. I mean, to mark off your pain. Um, to find out if you’re in any pain.”

“Don’t be nervous around me, beautiful. I’m a teddy bear, really. I just need cuddles,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, grinning easily at her. She blushes hard. I imagine I make her nervous. I’m six-foot-five and completely covered in tattoos, standing in front of her in white cotton boxers. My cock is aching, so I know I’m slightly engorged. Shop talk gets me hard. Revenge gets me hard. Shoshanna gets me hard. And all three things are front and center in my mind right now.

“How’s my patient?” A blond man walks in, his white, freshly ironed doctor’s coat swaying with each step, his stethoscope bouncing around his neck.

The incline of my shaft halts, no longer interested in playing a part in this scene. Katie tries to cover her blushing cheeks but doesn’t manage in time before Doctor Clean sees her and fixes her with a quick, tight smile.

Standing casually, I say, “I’m feeling fantastic, Doc.” I point at the hole in my chest, which is neatly pinned together with stitching and glue. “Your handiwork?”

He grins at me, white teeth flashing with just a hint of condescension. I wonder where that came from. I’m a fucking charming guy. Who wouldn’t want me as a patient?

“I’m Perry,” he says, nodding towards the wound. “Yes, my handiwork. You were in a bit of trouble when you first came in. But you seem sprightly for someone who has just been through what you have.”

“Sprightly,” I repeat, and then wink over his shoulder at Katie. “That’s me.”

“Are you in any pain?”

“Nothing a whiskey can’t cure. . .” I grin wider. “Or a cuddle.”

He ignores my adorable comment, but Katie bites her lip, breathing hard. “I suggest laying off the alcohol for a few weeks and, ah–” He eyes me, rolling his gaze quickly over my tattoos, making assumptions about me that are probably fair. “Any strenuous activities too.”

“Damn it.” I let out a teasing sigh. “They’ll miss me down at the country club.”

He gives me a tight smile. “I am sure they will, Mr Butcher.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he matches my stance but not my height or my build, so his attempt to be the big man in the room falls short. Just like him. If only his presence were larger. That falls short too.

He fixes me with a serious look while I try not to laugh at him, amused by the hostile attitude seeping from him despite his attempt at a professional demeanour. “I also hear you had a bit of an altercation in the corridor earlier today with one of my doctors.”

My smile twitches. “Yourdoctors?” I lower my arms slowly to my sides. “Do you own them, Perry?”

He narrows his brown eyes on me. “This one, I do.”

I. Stand. Very. Still. “Is that right?”

With my eyes now scorching a hole through his, I lock my teeth together. My grin spreads wider still, but it feels anything but pleasant. I hear that distant, high-pitched laughter again. The same laughter I always hear when I’m about to lose my mind. Stroking my palms with my fingers, I try not to imagine throwing him through the window behind me. Try not to imagine his body falling from the three stories and hitting the ground with a slap. It would definitely make a slapping sound at this height. All his bones snapping, his innards popping open, leaking out, marking the pavement with a bloody blotch.

“Tell me again who owns her,” I demand smoothly, but just as I do, Shoshanna walks in. The three of us freeze. Perry doesn’t even turn around, but he can sense her. Perhaps he’s become accustomed to the scent of the strawberry shampoo she still uses, distinguishing it like a fucking bloodhound, knowing it well because it’s probably left on his sheets after he fucks her. I’d know.

Glaring down at Doctor Clean, I’m surprised to see him craning his neck to match my glare. I’m not sure when I took a step towards him; his proximity to me sets a flame of unease in the pit of my stomach.

And this. . .

I feel something in my hand.

What is this?

I squeeze the object tighter to analyse the feel of it; it’s cold and hard against my palm. Realising I’ve picked up the fork that was on my breakfast tray, I use my thumb to keep it hidden from view.

What were you planning on doing with this, Bronson?

“You two know each other,” Perry states, eyeballing me.


Tags: Nicci Harris Romance