Except… What did they mean to do with me?
Did I detect a hint of pity in those stark gray eyes? Of sorrow even?
This doctor was working outside the law.
With a toss of my head, I flicked aside the tendrils of damp hair cloaking my face. I tried to make that casual, but it hurt my neck, and the hair came back to fall over my eyes. I decided not to use my cuffed hands to push at it. I was on top of this. Messy hair was nothing.
“Hi, doc.” I smirked. Now I did raise my hands, to gesture at my battered face. “Understand me, please.” I twisted my lips at my stupidly politeplease. “Thisdoes not define me.”
* * *
DR. H ROMANUS aka HULK
This does not define me.Brave words.
Her words traveled into my chest and reached my heart. An ache settled and deepened, and I mulled over why I had hardened myself. The seconds, minutes, days, of watching humans at play, work, and war had encased my heart in fatigue. It wasn’t bitterness. I was jaded. I’d seen it all. My wall was made of centuries of the seriously nasty things people liked to do to each other, piled up brick by brick.
How fucked up was I then to see past her brutalized face and body and feel not just compassion and sorrow and a need to comfort, but the stirrings of desire. I could see her beauty, and I admired her statement, no matter how useless it would be.
Being a physician did not eradicate lusts, and my lusts leaned into the dark side. I held out for the argument that it was not my thoughts that counted but my actions.
If I wished to, I could control myself, even when the women were healthy and spread before me naked and begging for it.
And this one? This woman? Jesus himself would probably weep if I dared to touch her with any fucked-up fucking in mind.
“Stand up, please, if you can?”
She nodded and after a small hesitation, stood for me.
“Turn. I want to see the bruising before I palpate for deeper injuries.”
Apart from wincing, she did that too.
I unlocked the case and removed the stethoscope and ophthalmoscope. These were simple but adequate devices. If she needed X-rays or anything more complex than ultrasound, I would have to finesse something. The CNC Fraternity had a wide reach and a pool of exceptionally rich professionals to call upon. If she needed it, I would get it done.
“Your chest sounds clear. Still…” I began to palpate the ribs, noting when she drew away that it was only a mild reaction. “Thank you for being cooperative. This is good. Nothing is fractured. Up here though, I’m not sure. You can sit for this.” I moved my focus to her face and checked her jaw and her left eye carefully. Her reflexes and sight were normal, so was the interior of the eye, though the peri-orbital trauma was extensive. “You’ve been lucky. Not even a dislodged tooth. You will have a scar here.” I gently touched above her eyebrow. The bone had caught a blow, and the skin had split. A staple would fix that.
“Lucky?” she said quietly, letting out a short laugh.
“Ahhh.The bitterness comes. I can hear it in your voice. The anger surfaces. You should be angry.”
“You mock me, pretend you empathize, and yet if I ask you to free me, you’ll say no?”
“I cannot. Forget that idea. You know too much.”
“And, umm.” Hesitant, she raised her pretty brown eyes to mine. I waited for what she needed to say and noted the movement of her throat. Very nervous and worried, at a guess—no surprise there. “My friend? Emme? Is she okay?”
“I know her name. Yes, she lives. She is with her…what should I call them?”
“Fucktard Doms?” Her mouth firmed, writhed. Her sniff was dismissive and defiant.
This woman had balls.
I chuckled. “Those fucktard Doms have her, yes. She is okay.”
“Good. And thank you.”
“Not a problem. It isn’t a secret. Not to me. Not to you. It’s good to make fun of things sometimes.”