Page 138 of Tempting Fate

“Thank y-you,” I stammer as she injects a second substance into my thigh.

Instant warmth spreads through me. My head does a weird spin thing, then the edge of my sight blurs. As the pain lets up, I drag in the first proper breath I’ve been able to inhale for what feels like hours. My legs relax and I slowly loosen my grip on my knees.

Bebe smooths my hair back from my sweaty face. “Feeling better, sweetie?”

“Yes.”

A dark look crosses her face, although her tone is soft when she says, “You were raped tonight.”

She doesn’t pose it as a question, but I still nod to confirm her speculation.

“Right.” Bebe blows out a sharp breath that fluffs her fringe. “This is going to suck balls, but I need to have a look at you. Now, sexual assault isn’t my speciality… I’m a surgeon. But I’ve done more than one rotation in the ER. I know what I’m looking for.”

My voice is small as I say, “Okay.”

With quick, efficient movement, Bebe coaxes me onto my back with my legs open. Her touch is gentle. Her hands are warm. I keep my eyes screwed shut as she examines me. When she swabs my core, over and over, tears run down my face, and I bite down and roll my bruised lips between my teeth, working the sore flesh over until I taste blood.

Noticing how I’ve stiffened, she asks, “Want me to stop?”

“No… just… don’t… worry about taking his DNA. I’ve already made him pay. That’s why Slash called you in. I can’t go to the hospital.”

“I figured as much.” Bebe sighs. “Wasn’t swabbing you for evidence anyway, sweetie… you have a tear that’s bleeding heavily. It needs sutures. I was trying to clean you up to see how many you’ll require.”

“Oh.”

She pats my leg. “It’ll be over before you know it. I only have morphine and a little Xylocaine with me. You’re going to be awake for it, might even feel some tugging. Do you want me to get Zeke? Slash? One of them can hold your hand if you want.”

“No!” I screech, jack-knifing upright, only to fall back to the mattress when my entire lower belly pulses with red-hot agony. “He doesn’t need to see this. Or Slash…”

“That’s entirely up to you,” Bebe replies calmly.

Once she’s injected the local anaesthetic and tested that it’s worked, I do my best to block out everything she’s doing down there. Yoga breathing. Counting backward from a thousand. Digging my nails into my palms. Picturing myself bringing Alex back from the dead so I can kill him again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Finally, the tugging and pulling stops.

“I’m done.”

“Thank you.”

She crawls up the bed and sits cross-legged next to me. The sadness in her eyes is too much to bear, so I stare up at the ceiling. We lapse into silence. Two strangers who’ve just shared something too real to put into words. As the tension in the room grows, Bebe’s hand touches mine. I leave my fingers lax, even as she gives them a squeeze. Eventually, without thinking it through too hard, I curl my fingers around hers.

“I know you’re still hurting, and it’s the last thing you need right now, but I want to check out the rest of your body. Going by your face, the chance of a concussion is huge. Your ribs might be broken… which could explain the pain you’re in.”

“Do you want me to stand?”

“Nah.” Bebe gives my hand one last squeeze. “Just shuffle to the edge of the bed and hang your feet over the end. I’ll work around you.”

Once she’s helped me upright, Bebe steps back and allows me the space to reposition myself like she requested. I expected her to be oversolicitous, but she isn’t. She’s calm. Attentive without being overbearing. A solid presence in the midst of chaos. The gorgeous woman seems to see what I need before I do, and even though it takes longer than it should with my slow ginger movements, Bebe patiently waits for me to make my way to the edge of the mattress under my own steam.

“You’re a good doctor,” I tell her.

“Doubt you’ll be saying that once I’ve finished poking and prodding you.”

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