Page 76 of Coerced Wife

Pointing a finger at him, I say, “You’ll stay right there if you know what’s good for you.”

He grins as if the situation is funny, but at least he doesn’t argue.

In the kitchen, I scrub my hands in the sink before quickly finding the medicine box and carrying it back to the study.

Saverio is perched on an ottoman with his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers steepled, staring at the cold fireplace. The elastic of his sweatpants is tainted red, the sight making me queasy not because of the blood but because he’s hurt.

I make quick work of cleaning the area around the wound and disinfecting the cut before preparing a needle with surgical thread.

“Where’s your local anesthetic?” I ask, rummaging through the box.

“Don’t have any,” he says over his shoulder.

I look up. “How can you not have any?”

He shrugs and repeats, “Don’t have any.”

“If you have surgical thread, you obviously keep it because you needed it before.”

“I stitched Dante up a couple of times as well as a few guys who got nicked in fights. Never needed anesthetic.”

“Are you for real?” I ask, angry all over again. “Why don’t you keep any? Do you have to prove how tough you are?”

“What am I going to do? Rob a hospital or hijack an ambulance? If I want anesthetic, I’ll have to bribe a medical professional, and that’s not the kind of trail I want leading to me.”

Fine. I suppose that makes sense, but still, I don’t like hurting him more.

“It can wait until the morning,” he says in a compassionate tone.

My voice is stern. “Face forward.”

He turns but not before smirking.

Taking a deep breath, I keep a steady hand and stick the needle through his skin at the top of the cut. He doesn’t as much as hiss or jerk when I pull the thread through on the other side and make a knot. I continue until the gash is sealed, which takes no less than nine stitches. When I’m done, I dab antibiotic ointment on and cover the wound with gauze and a bandage.

“You may need an antibiotic,” I say, testing the hold of the bandage.

“If it gets infected, I’ll get some.”

“From where?” I ask. “You can’t buy it over the counter.”

“From a pharmacist who’s on our payroll.”

“So you can get antibiotics but not local anesthetic?”

“Anesthetics are more tightly controlled. It’s easier to swipe a few bottles of antibiotics from time to time.”

“What if you do need a doctor one day?”

“Then I’ll hope Dante is really good at following online tutorials.”

“You’re crazy.” I take out a bottle of painkillers and close the medicine box. “You need to recruit a doctor.”

I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “It doesn’t work like that, beautiful.”

I push two pills from their casings and fetch a glass of water from the wet bar. Going to stand in front of him, I hold out the pills and the water. “The next time we have an appointment with Nicole, I’m going to speak to her. She obviously knows what you do for a living. I’m not going to tell her anything new.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but you’ll be wasting yourtime.” He pops the pills in his mouth and drinks until the glass is empty. Staring up at me, he places a hand on my thigh. “I do, however, appreciate your concern.” He adds with a wink, “That must mean you care.”

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