I paused, my jaw dropping as I recognized it.
Shit, that scumbag.
I gritted my teeth so hard, I thought my head was going to explode. But I held my tongue.
For now.
Chapter 20
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If looks could kill, this douchebag would’ve been six feet under by now.
Red’s eyes went wide, her face turning pale beneath those freckles. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. I looked at her, trying to figure out what the hell she was feeling, but it was like hitting a brick wall. She looked confused, scared, and pissed off all at the same time.
You’d think he’d have the decency to stay the hell away from her after what he did.
But no.
Doctor Fuckface was tall, with that confident swagger that made you wanna punch him in the throat, wearing one of those stethoscopes that hung around his neck, like he’s got a hotline to God.
He had a look about him—a way of holding his head high, of spreading his arms out wide as if to take in the world around him, that screamed ‘I’m better than you’. His eyes were sharp and cold, and they glittered with the arrogance of a man who thought himself above the fray.
“I need your help over there.”
Dr. Jackhole gestured towards Private Punchable, our buddy who was lying on the table with a few minor cuts and bruises. I knew what was going on here—this wasn’t about help, it was about control.
I’d seen this asshole in action before, and he was nothing but a pompous ass who thought he was God’s gift to medicine.
Oh, I was fucking livid now. My blood was leaving my face as Dr. Douchebag continued his soap opera soliloquy.
“I need you to change his bandages,” he said, like he was asking her to hand over the TV remote. “Please,” he crooned, with this fake-ass charm, like he wasn’t the manipulative fucker who’d wrecked her life.
Red looked like she’d seen a ghost, her eyes darting back and forth between me and Dr. Fuckface, who just so happened to be her abusive ex-boyfriend from hell.
Yeah, life’s a real comedian sometimes, huh?
“Hey, Doc,” I said, my voice sounding more like a low rumble of thunder than anything remotely human, “shouldn’t you know that changing bandages is a nurse’s job, not a doctor’s?”
He looked at me like I was the stupid one. “Well,” he said grimly, “sometimes doctors have to step out of their comfort zones and help where they’re needed.”
Doctor my ass. Abuser, more like it.
The bruises, the fear in Red’s eyes whenever he was around. I seethed at the thought of him causing her pain, and I wanted nothing more than to rip him apart limb from limb. My blood was boiling, and I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks like a nuclear reactor.
“And sometimes doctors should stay the fuck away from their ex-girlfriends,” I snapped back at him, taking a step forward.
Red seemed to be holding her breath, like she was waiting for the sky to fall down on us any minute now.
Dr. Dickhead just laughed, like it was some kind of joke.
“And who you might be?” he asked, feigning politeness.
I snarled, my face twisting into a grotesque parody of a smile. I swear, if I wasn’t trying to be the bigger man, I’d rip his throat out.
“Her fucking bodyguard today,” I gritted out slowly, “and if you try anything with her, I’ll make sure you’ll be needing a doctor.”
The room fell silent. You could hear a pin drop.