Page 45 of Bad Ruck

He placed his palm against the wall, bent and flexed his leg, then did the same with the other knee. "It's okay. Just a little stiff first thing in the morning."

"You've been doing the exercises Doctor Skinner and your PT set out for you?" I asked.

"And then some," he agreed. "Better to do too much than too little."

"Have you been overdoing it?" I cocked my head at him. When he wasn’t training, he seemed to be in the gym or the pool at home.

He frowned, but it was a cagey look at best.

"I'll take that as a yes," I said. "There is such a thing as too much."

He pushed off the wall and crossed his arms defensively. "I like to work out."

"So do I," I said. "But if you do too much of it, you can cause damage to your body. Do you want to end your career because you're exercising too much?" I wasn't telling him anything hedidn't already know. That was obvious by his body language. "I don't want to give you a lecture."

"Then don't," he said evenly. "I'm good."

"Are you?" I straightened my head. "In my experience, people who exercise too much do it for a reason. Do you want to talk about it?" I spoke as gently as I could, while still firm. At the end of the day, I was still his doctor. His health was a priority. Physical and mental.

He glanced down at the floor. "I like to work out," he said again.

"Okay, but why?" I asked. "Look, you don't have to talk about it to me if you don't want to, but there are other people you can talk to. A professional, or one of the guys. We'll help you get through this." Whatever “this” was.

"I'll think about it," he said evasively. "Don't be on my case."

"Don't forget it's my job to be on your case," I said unapologetically. "As your doctor and as your girlfriend."

He looked up at me, his head tilted. "That what you are? My girlfriend?"

"I'd say so," I said, unflinching. "Unless you have a problem with that?"

"No problem," he said. "I like the sound of it."

"Me too." I turned to type in the details of his appointment into my laptop. "We'll have to keep an eye on the knee. It's nothing that requires surgery, but it might if you push it too hard. No one wants that. We need you fighting fit and able to kneel." I glanced over at him and winked.

"I like it better whenyoukneel," he said. He rolled his lips and looked towards the open doorway. "Skinner is keeping busy."

"Yes, he's hardly ever in here," I said. "He spends most of his time at the pool. It's me and Doctor Stuart in here, usually."The other doctor was absent at the moment, consulting with the physical therapy team.

"I don't like him being out of sight," Ramsey said. "Don't like him here with you either though."

"He's certainly no fan of mine." I pressed the return button and closed the laptop.

"Maybe you should make him one," Ramsey said. "Make him trust you."

"I don't know if it would be that easy." I leaned my shoulder against the wall. "He's not the trusting kind. And Dominic King knows who my brother is. They're probably watching me as close as I'm watching them."

Ramsey looked thoughtful. "We can use that. Make them think they see things that aren't there. Feed them wrong information."

I bit my lip for a moment. "I guess I could do that. As long as we're careful."

He took a couple of steps towards me. "Always careful." He brushed hair off the side of my face. "If they try anything, they'll regret it."

"I don't mind them having regrets," I said softly. "I don't want to have any myself. I don't want anything to happen to any of you. Working here is amazing, but I feel like I'm in the middle of the hornet's nest."

"You're not, they are," he said. "Soon, they'll get stung. If I could, I'd clear them out now." He looked frustrated, his brow creased, mouth turned down.

"We need to know who they're working for first," I said. Otherwise, I'd be in full agreement about getting rid of both men, and anyone working with them. We could clear out the nest and make it safe for all of us.

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