Page 18 of Seeing Grayscale

It makes him relatable.

Approachable.

Far more trustworthy than before.

I almost don’t want to know his answer now.

“I meant to—get a room, that is. But I got distracted and fell asleep.”

“Distracted? With what?”

The little bit of skin visible through his beard darkens. “I’ve never seen Pretty Woman before. I put it on, and yeah…” He shrugs and chugs the rest of his drink.

Endless—and I do meanendless—red flags wave above his head, but I go colorblind.

NINE

I’mdyingforashower, and I’d kill someone for a toothbrush, but I ignore the unease clinging to me like a second layer of unshed lizard skin.

There’s some trepidation curling in my stomach when Doctor Perry pulls into the spot beside my car. He’s always been discreet and professional, but this is the most I’ve ever asked of the man.

Even…back then.

I slide my hands into my coat pockets, itching for a smoke, but I refrain while the older gentleman gets out of the car.

Cropped salt and pepper hair meets my eyes first, followed by a crisp navy suit coat. A white tie is knotted at his throat, and thin-framed circle glasses perch on his slightly hooked nose. Offering me a smile, he grabs the briefcase from the trunk of his car and approaches me.

“Mr. Kade,” he greets.

Snorting, I pull him in for a brief one-armed embrace. “I hate when you call me that.”

“I know.” Another smile, then he nods to the hotel. “Anything I should know about the patient?”

Plenty, but nothing I’m willing to divulge. That’ll be up to Gray if he chooses to do so. I shake my head and lead us to the room.

When I called Perry earlier, I only relayed the obvious—a possible broken leg and ribs, along with the swollen, black eye. If x-rays are required, I’ll have to convince Gray to take the two-hour drive to Perry’s clinic. I don't understand why staying here is so important to him, but if he refuses, I won’t force it.

I’m not holding my breath, though.

The curtains flutter shut as we approach, and I’m surprised to find the door open a crack. I chalk it up to Gray watching us approach and don't over-analyze it. Since meeting him, I seem to do that more and more.

Like that movie he mentioned we are emulating—the one that I couldn’t stop wondering how it paralleled last night. I fell asleep before finishing it, but I can see how he’d make the comparison.

Although, I don’t think Gray is a sex worker.

As we enter the room, I find him immediately. That thumb is in his mouth, teeth ripping at the meat nervously. I offer him a reassuring smile, moving out of the way for Perry.

“Gray, this is Doctor Perry. My personal physician.”

“It’s good to meet you, Gray.”

We watch him carefully as he dislodges the wet digit from his teeth and wipes it off on his sweats. “Hey,” he says gruffly and doesn’t move to shake any hands.

He’s watching the good doctor with instinctual hesitance—fear. “If it’s alright with you, I can look at what’s bothering you the most, and we’ll go from there?”

Gray glances at me, the small bump in his throat bobbing roughly. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Wherever is comfortable for you.”

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