Page 2 of Unforgivable Ties

“Leave,” he commanded me. “And do not take this route again.”

My gaze drifted to the crimson liquid seeping from the puncture wound on his ribs. As a medical student, I was confident that I could mend it and stop the flow of blood. The question was: was this man a bad person, and would he be better off dead?

In med school, we were taught to ignore our morals and treat the patient. “You’re hurt,” I said, stepping closer to him.

“If you pass out from the sight of blood,” he responded. “I’m just going to leave you here.”

Despite his dismissal, I held my ground. “I’m a med student,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I inched forward. “So unless you plan on dying, let me take a look at your wound.”

He eyed me suspiciously as I walked closer to him, his gun again trained on my body. “No sudden moves,” he warned gutturally, his eyes never leaving mine. After a tense moment, he nodded minutely and lowered his weapon.

“I also accept ‘Thank You,'” I said, kneeling down and searching through my bag for my medical kit.

He gave what could almost be considered a laugh. “You haven’t saved me yet.”

Gently, I peeled back his shredded shirt to expose the gunshot wound. God, I would really have to focus on this task. His body was literally perfection, each muscle defined underneath the ink that adorned his skin. But the crimson stain spreading across his abdominal area broke the mesmerizing picture.

Rummaging through my bag, I found a pair of gloves and put them on. His eyes were still trained on me, a mixture of suspicion and curiosity glinting in the brown depths as I got to work.

“This might sting a bit,” I murmured as I cleaned his wound with antiseptic.

All patients I had done it to had physically recoiled or couldn’t hide the grimace on their face. This man’s expression didn’t change as I applied the antiseptic. Evidently, he was used to bearing pain; an intriguing yet unsurprising trait for a man like him.

As I worked, the surrounding silence seemed to grow louder. His eyes never left mine, creating a strange intimacy that had my heart pounding in my chest for reasons far beyond anxiety.

“I need to stitch up the wound. It may hurt,” I warned him.

“Aren’t you going to take the bullet out first?”

“What? That’s only in TV shows,” I scoffed, mad at the media for promoting incorrect medical knowledge. “Sometimes, even doctors will leave it in place if it’s too dangerous to take out.”

He grunted noncommittally at this and fixed his gaze on the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought. I took a deep breath and threaded the needle, my hands surprisingly steady. The tension in the room was palpable as I dipped the needle into the wound; the guy didn’t even wince, only clenched his jaw as I sewed. His stoicism was fascinating, almost eerie. I wondered what sort of life he’d led to be so accustomed to pain.

“You need to see a doctor,” I said as I placed gauze on his wound and began wrapping.

“Well, you’re almost a doctor, right?”

I gave him a disapproving look. “I still have two and a half more years of med school, and then years of residency. You could have internal wounds,” I said, finishing up wrapping the gauze. “Consider this a bandaid.”

He sat up slowly, gritting his teeth against the pain. His eyes were still locked onto mine, and I felt a strange sense of connection despite our evident differences. “Alright, Doc.”

The man checked his phone again, before cursing and slamming it into the floor. I presumed we still didn’t have service.

“What happened out there?” I asked curiously.

“There are things in life that are better left unknown,” he replied darkly, his gaze drifting away from me and towards the window.

I was about to push back for a response, but the words died in my throat as I saw the determined look on his face. It was clear he didn’t want to discuss it. Maybe it was the adrenaline wearing off, or the obvious dismissal of my query, but my courage faltered.

“Stephanie,” I said. “My name is Stephanie.”

He nodded in response, but didn’t offer his name to me.

The sound of a car engine shattered the silence on the docks. As it grew louder, it became clear that the vehicle was headed towards the building where the mystery man and I were.

“Fuck,” the man said, “You need to hide.”

“But…are you going to be ok?” I asked.

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