Page 3 of Saved By Two

“Don’t panic, sweet girl. He’s a friend and a doctor.”

I stare from him to the stranger and then at Caleb, who gives me a curt, reassuring nod.

“Jessica, I’m just here to check you over and see your injuries. Is that okay?”

The thought of him seeing me in all my tragic glory makes me humiliated to my core, but at this point, my pride is the least of my worries.

ChapterTwo

JESSICA

I’m wary, of course. This man is a stranger. A doctor, yes, but even though I now know him to be Mitchell, it still does nothing to ease my nerves. I couldn’t even trust the man who claimed to love me. And yet Mitchell is here for me, doing Caleb and Noah a favour, of that I am sure.

He studies my face and then lowers himself into the chair beside the bed—a tactical move, I think—his attempt to ease my anxiousness.

“Jessica, if it would make you feel more comfortable, Caleb or Noah can stay in the room while I examine you.”

My heart beats faster, drumming in my ears. I have no idea to the full extent of what he might find. I just know that the pain is becoming even more unbearable with every passing moment. I’d rather it was just me and the doctor. Even though the thought of having him touch me is the last thing I want, even in a professional capacity, but what choice do I have? Going to a hospital is out of the question—I can’t risk it.

Resolute, I exhale sharply and reply, “No, it's okay.” But to my dismay, my voice wobbles.

Still on the opposite side of the bed, Noah takes my hand gently in his. “You’ll be fine. We’ll be just outside in the hallway. If you want us to come back in at any time, Mitchell will call for me or Caleb.”

I swallow, my throat protesting, and give a slight nod. I’m afraid it will all become too much if I speak, and I won’t get through this next part.

“You’re safe here, sweet girl. I swear it. And we trust this man with our lives, otherwise, he wouldn’t be here. You’re in safe hands.”

I glance over and see Caleb standing ramrod straight, his hands tightly clenched into fists, his entire body practically vibrating with tension. His face softens when his eyes shift to mine, and he gives one curt nod before stepping out into the hallway.

Noah bends down and kisses the back of my hand before letting go, and I watch him follow Caleb, the sound of the door clicking closed behind them.

Mitchell leans down, opens a bag I didn’t notice, and pulls out a blood pressure cuff.

“I will start with your blood pressure and ask you some questions. Is that okay?” he asks, wrapping the strap around my upper arm and closing it tightly, causing me to flinch.

“Sorry, let me loosen that a fraction.” He loosens it on my arm and then presses something. The cuff begins to puff up with air as he squeezes a small pouch in his palm. “Is there any particular place you’re experiencing more pain? And don’t worry, I can give you some pain medication to help with that as we ascertain the extent of your injuries.”

My hand automatically moves to my throat, and I touch the tender skin. “My ribs, it hurts to breathe.”

He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and I notice a scar underneath his left cheekbone as he begins sanitising his hands, rubbing them together.

“I’m going to examine you now. Are you okay if I touch you?”

This is his profession, yet he still asks me for consent. The act alone causes my throat to thicken with building emotion, making it impossible to speak, so I nod my head once instead.

Starting with my head and face, he gently presses along my throat before asking me to open my mouth so he look down my throat.

“The hoarseness you’re experiencing in your larynx is likely due to the trauma you experienced. Rest your voice as much as possible and drink plenty of fluids to prevent dehydration.”

He continues to let me know before he touches me as his examination moves to my torso where he raises the sweatshirt, exposing my midriff, and begins pressing lightly, prodding over the area. As he moves closer to where the pain is worst, I let out a hiss between my teeth.

And then his eyes lower to my shorts and the marks visible on the inside of thighs.

He pauses to look at me. “May I ask, is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

I shake my head. “No, I have a contraceptive implant.”

Nodding, he glances to my thighs and then back to my face before clearing his throat. “I can see you have some abrasions. There’s no easy way to ask you this, Jessica, but were you sexually assaulted?” The question causes bile to rise, and I don’t know how to respond, even if I could find the words.

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