Page 16 of Viking Ink

Rhys slipped his hoodie over his head before answering. “Yes, I do. I can also run the Medic program and answer phones. I did work experience for a short while with the clinic back home before I had to quit.” He shuffled nervously, looking between me and the Doc before moving to sit down next to me again.

Doc moved around to sit at his desk, still looking thoughtful. “Any headaches or blurred vision, I want you to go straight to the hospital. I know you have reservations, but you have to trust that the local hospital will do their best by you.” He leaned forward. “Spontaneity is not something I do, but I find myself in need of some help running the surgery for the next couple of days. How would you feel helping a sorry old bastard like me for a few hours today? Paid, of course.”

I shifted in my chair. “I thought you said he needed to rest?”

Doc shot me a look, one that said, Overprotective much?

I shrugged. Of course I was protective. I mean, it was reasonable. I had found the young lad beaten and bloody, a young man who’d done nothing remotely wrong in his life. He was a sweetheart, and shouldn’t have been—

Whoa.

Okay, yeah. Maybe I was feeling a little overprotective.

Doc’s lips twitched, the bastard. “Contrary to what your overprotective arse thinks, I don’t plan on enslaving the boy or shoving him in a dark room and make him organise my past due accounts, although… Rhys, how good are you at bookkeeping?”

“I swear to god Doc, I will tell everyone how you passed out when you got your first piercing,” I rumbled.

“I hadn’t eaten.” He dismissed my threat then turned back to address Rhys. “All I would want you to do is be out in front, greet patients, and pull up their files. It would only be a few hours, then I’ll send you back to be mother henned by this big bear.”

“First I’m a hen, now I’m a bear,” I muttered. I could hear Rhys’s soft giggles before he became serious.

“I would be happy to help.” Rhys gave a shy smile.

“Excellent, lad. I thought you would be a sensible one. Now, why don’t we head out the front and I can show you the set up.”

I followed Doc and Rhys out into the reception area and smiled, a little bemused as I watched Doc disappear and reappear with a cushion and a cup of water. “Pain pills. Nothing terribly strong, but it will take the ache away from those ribs. Now sit here.” Doc sat the cushion behind Rhys. “This will be better to lean against. Next appointment is not due for half an hour, so it should give us time to get up to speed.”

Rhys smiled, looking a little bemused but happy. I stood there like a lump on a log, not sure what to do until Doc looked my way. “Don’t you have a shop to attend to? Go on, get. I’ll look after Rhys.”

“Umm Doc, can I have a quick word?” I shouldn’t have been worried about leaving Rhys with Doc, but my stomach knotted at the thought.

“Sure. I need to finish opening the window shutters. Rhys, why don’t you see if you can get that damn thing running?” Doc pointed at the computer, scowling.

Out of earshot of Rhys, I spun on Doc. “What the fuck are you doing? The lad’s been through a traumatic event! How is making him work for you helping?”

Doc folded his arms across his chest. “It means I can watch him and check for signs of concussion and shock. I can also get to know the lad. I’m well aware of his situation since he came to town. Despite this town’s opinions of me, I do possess a heart, and he is a lad who needs some structure and some regular income. I’m down a receptionist, and you and I know I would rather let the surgery fall down than have to interview a replacement.” He shuddered.

“Okay, fine. I see your point. Just be gentle with him,” I said with a sigh. I really needed to be getting to the shop.

Doc patted me on the shoulder, smirking a little. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt your boy. Come back at one to pick him up.”

Doc had spun on his heel and headed back inside before I could get out that Rhys wasn’t my boy.

Damn it, he wasn’t.

I was unlocking the shutters at the shop when Mitch arrived, walking up the path. His messy dark hair was wrapped up in a bun, his sunglasses were firmly in place and he was carrying a cup of steaming coffee in his hands.

“You look like shit, little brother.” I flung the last shutter up, and the loud clatter caused Mitch to mutter a slew of curses.

“You did that on purpose, wanker,” he said. I unlocked the door but stepped back, letting Mitch in first.

“Where did you crash last night?”

Mitch sunk slowly into one of the sofas that sat in the corner of the studio. Normally it was where clients sat when waiting for their appointments or to go over designs, but right now it was where Mitch decided to collapse, making wounded whale sounds.

“I slept at Cal’s on his couch with that damn cat sleeping on my chest. Woke up with his furry arse in my face.” Mitch rubbed his face, groaning, I felt a tiny bit of sympathy for my brother—not enough to go too easy on him, but I wouldn’t make him set up this morning. I ran through the client books and made sure our stations were ready before Rez and Cal got in. It helped distract me from worrying about Rhys.

“Suppose you went home and had a quiet night once you left us?” Mitch said as he stretched out across the sofa.

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