“It’s not my house.”
“That’s not the point. You know what I mean.”
He’s quiet for a long moment and doesn’t speak until we pull onto a long drive, and he kills the engine. He takes the keys out of the ignition and turns to me, expression, as ever, unreadable.
“I’m not scary, remember? Hell, maybe I’m just a nice guy,” he deadpans.
I roll my eyes and turn toward the house, remembering what he’d said about our appointment.
“I don’t think you’re a nice guy,” I tell him.
“No, you’re right, I’m not. I’m not helping you, Blue. I’m helping myself. You threatened me. You threatened my family. You and I are enemies. Nothing has changed between us. Knowing Wren, well, she’s another means to an end?—”
“She’s not a means to an end. She’s a human being.”
“You love her which makes her a vulnerability. Something I can and will use to make you heel.”
I shake my head. “Of course you will,” I say and turn away.
He takes my chin between thumb and forefinger and makes me look at him. “Don’t get the wrong idea, sweetheart. What you said back there? I’m not your boyfriend.”
I jerk my face out of his grasp. “I didn’t think you were.”
“And more importantly, you don’t want me to be.” Something in how he says it makes me pause. Sends an icy thrill down my spine. His eyes narrow and he reaches into his pocket to retrieve my chain. “Almost forgot.”
I don’t speak. Instead, I just tilt my head back, my heart pounding as he hooks the chain back in place on my collar, reaffirming our roles.
“That’s better,” he says. “It’ll help you remember your place.”
“I was just thanking you. That’s all.”
“Don’t.”
The front door of the house opens, and a man steps out in a white doctor’s coat. Nausea makes the cupcake I ate sit like a brick in my belly.
“Let’s go get this taken care of so I can deliver that punishment I promised last night.”
20
Blue
Dr. Shore pretty much ignores me and talks to Zeke as I follow behind them. This must be his home office. There’s a waiting area, which is empty, and beyond it is his large, very cold looking office.
A nurse is unfolding the stirrups from an examination table, and the soft hum that precedes the ringing in my ears begins. I stop, turn, walk straight into Zeke’s chest. He catches me when I bounce off, holding onto my arms either because he knows I’m about to bolt or to steady me. Probably the former.
I close my eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath in and telling myself to calm down. The conscious breathing sometimes helps and I’m grateful now is one of those times. I look up at him, feeling flushed. When I realize my hands are pressed to his chest, I pull them away, get myself out of his grasp and step backward.
The nurse clears her throat and I glance at her. “Ms. Masterson, you can get undressed behind the curtain.”
I turn back to Zeke. Look past him to the door.
“Don’t be stupid,” he warns.
“What about you?” I ask in a hissed whisper.
“What about me?”
“Do I get a confirmation that you’re not carrying any STDs?”