Page 32 of Beast: Part Two

Summer

“It looks good,” Doc says, reapplying the dressing on my shoulder.

Maksim gives me a thumbs up over his head as if I’m doing something spectacular. This was my first time meeting the short man with the bald spot they call Doc. All my other interactions with him I’ve either been sleeping, or too drugged up to remember.

You’d think I’d be a little more concerned about how my healing is going but I can’t seem to focus on anything except my exchange with Gabriel this morning.

This morning, like every morning since I let him in my room that night, I woke up with him in the corner of my room.

I rolled out of bed and ignored him, even though his presence always makes me giddy. Walking into the bathroom, I switched on the light to do my morning routine. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I look up to find him in the mirror watching me intently.

His gaze roamed over my bare legs causing an ache to form in the pit of my stomach. Even with an injury I miss the feeling of him pressed against my body. I’m pretty sure if he hadn’t broken up with me, I would be riding his face right now, arm bandaged up and all.

“Whose shirt are you wearing?” his deep voice brought me out of my naughty thoughts.

Glaring at his reflection in the mirror, I roll my eyes. He asked me this same question three days ago.

“I thought we already discussed that. What I do or who I do, doesn’t concern you.”

Obviously, I was being a bitch, because there was no one in this house that I would be sleeping with. But Gabriel doesn’t get to break up with me and then still act like a jealous lover.

He steps into the bathroom, his arms falling from across his chest down to his side. He stops himself, shutting his eyes, he shook his head as if he was trying to force something out of it.

He takes a few deep breaths before opening his eyes and staring at me.

“Please answer my question.”

Even though I still want to be mad and refuse him this one little request, I give in. It’s something about the desperate look on his face and him pleading for a response.

Sighing, I turn to face him, leaning my ass against the sink.

“It’s Sim’s, alright.”

His gaze narrows and his head cocks to the side. If I didn’t know any better, I would say his eyes darkened.

“It’s not his fault,” I find myself saying. “When I was brought here, I didn’t actually get a chance to pack clothes. And although I am very thankful someone purchased clothes for Gabe, I don’t feel right asking anyone to order me something. I also don’t have my debit card to order my own. So, Sim’s shirts have to do.”

All the women in the house offered to loan me clothes and they did give me bottoms, but all their shirts are a bit too snug to comfortably fit my injured arm.

He remains silent, staring at me blankly. He then turns and walks out of the bathroom and out of my room. That was four hours ago, and I haven’t seen him since.

“All done,” Doc says as he finishes replacing the bandage on my shoulder successfully pulling me out of my memory.

“How long before I can really shower?” I ask.

Although I’ve been making the quick showers and sink baths work for me since I woke up from the meds, it’s definitely time to get a thorough clean in.

Doc takes off his gloves and tosses them in the trash bin in the corner of the room.

“You are free to shower like normal.”

Feeling giddy, I do a little shimmy in celebration.

“But you still want to be careful with your movements though.”

Admittedly, it’s hard to reach certain areas with a busted shoulder, but thankfully the bullet hit my left side and not my dominate right one.

“And how long before I should be completely healed?”

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