Page 2 of Atone in Darkness
He jerked his head in a quick nod. Good. “Are you hungry?”
When he nodded a second time, she pulled a box of breakfast sandwiches out of the freezer and put them into the microwave to heat up. When they were ready, she arranged the four sandwiches on a paper plate and grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the refrigeratorfor each of them.
It took some careful juggling to hold on to all of it while she keyed her access code to open the cell door. By the time she stepped inside, Chase had pushed himself up into a sitting position. She handed him the plate and the orange juice and then stepped back out of reach. They both knew the small amount of distance wouldn’t keep her safe if he ever decided to go on the attack,but she needed that little bit of space right now. His mouth quirked up in a hint of a smile as if he liked knowing that he scared her even when he was at his weakest.
He devoured the sandwiches in a matter of minutes. The orange juice didn’t last much longer. She held out her hand for the plate. “Do you want seconds?”
“Not yet. Shower first.”
His voice sounded as if he’d swallowed broken glass,another sign of how rough his night had been. She didn’t blame him for wanting to wash away the stench of sweat and blood that permeated the small room. “I’ll get you some clean clothes and towels.”
The cell had been designed to afford its occupant very little in the way of privacy. At least the combination toilet and sink unit sat behind a half wall. The shower in the back corner was separatedfrom the toilet by a slightly higher partial divider. As a doctor, she was used to seeing the naked human body, but only in a clinical situation. It bothered her that so much of Chase’s day-to-day life was on open display for anyone who cared to watch.
She made a point of focusing all of her attention on paperwork or her computer whenever he needed a few minutes of privacy.
After setting theclothes and towels on the end of his cot, she beat a hasty retreat and locked the door on her way out. So far, he’d never attempted to leave his cell except when ordered to by the guards or when she needed to run some tests. It was easy to tell when he was feeling claustrophobic from the way he’d pace back and forth in the small amount of open space in his cell. When that happened, she would puthim through another round of tests on the gym equipment in the corner of her lab. Although she dutifully recorded the results in case anyone were to check, the real purpose was to give him a chance to burn off some energy the only way she could.
The thick glass didn’t muffle the sounds coming from the cell all that much. Even so, she found herself leaning in the direction of Chase’s cell as ifthose few additional inches would help her assess how badly he was hurt from the way he moved as he showered and dressed. It took longer than normal for him to strip off his clothes and turn on the shower, and there was no missing his sharp intake of breath when the hot spray first hit his skin.
The water ran for a long while, the heat probably doing a lot to ease his aches and pains. She’d givehim as much time as she could before she started putting him through his paces. But based on prior occasions, one of the guards would likely come strolling in uninvited and unwanted at some point to check up on Chase or maybe her. She was never quite sure which one of them was under such close scrutiny.
With that in mind, she listened to see if the water was still running. No, he’d shut it off.Time to get busy. She quickly zapped another box of sandwiches for him. He normally ateseven all by himself, sometimes more after one of his sessions with the guards. Just in case, she heated all four. If he didn’t want the last one, she’d eat it herself. It would be nice if she had something more nutritious to offer him to go along with the sandwiches, maybe a big salad. When she’d said thatto him one time, he’d laughed and told her he didn’t much care for greens. Evidently he was a carnivore at heart.
He tapped on the glass to let her know he was dressed just as the microwave dinged. She grabbed the sandwiches and headed back to open his cell door.
“You might as well eat these out here. I need to check you over for injuries.”
It was hard not to wince to see how he grabbed hisside as he climbed up on the step at the end of the examination table and turned around to sit down. She looked away to give him a few seconds to catch his breath while she picked up the pad of paper she used to jot down brief notes during the exam. Once he was back in his cell, she’d transfer it all to his computer records.
When she returned, she noted his face was pale and his skin looked clammy.“Can I get you anything for pain? At least a couple of ibuprofen?”
Chase rarely accepted even that much no matter how badly he was hurting, but he didn’t hesitate this time. “Sounds good.”
Translation:He was in worse shape than usual.
She fetched the tablets and another bottle of orange juice to wash them down. He’d already eaten two of the sandwiches and was starting on the third. He heldout the plate. “Eat yours, Keeper, before it gets cold.”
She hated when he called her that and corrected him automatically. “We’ve had this discussion before. My name is Dr. Riggs.”
It’s not like he could forget it when her name was embroidered right there on her lab coat for him to see every day they spent in this hellhole together. On the other hand, she couldn’t quite blame him for strikingback in any little way he could, and he’d made it clear why he considered her his keeper. After all, they treated him like a cross between a lab specimen and an animal on display at the local zoo.
Rather than argue the point any longer, she accepted the sandwich and sat down on the rolling stool she’d pulled over by the table. The croissant, bacon, and egg combination tasted better than the oatmealshe’d had earlier. It didn’t take long for them to finish off their makeshift meal.
“Can you take off your shirt by yourself or do you need help?”
He managed it on his own, most likely out of stubborn pride. Just as she’d suspected, he had a whole new crop of bruises and lacerations scattered across his broad chest and back. “Does it hurt to breathe?”
“A little.”
Translation:a lot.
“I’llget you an ice pack for your ribs when we’re done here.”
“If it makes you happy.”
Translation:anything that will make the pain go away.
She checked each cut. Most were pretty minor, but even the larger ones were scabbed over and healing. The smaller bruises had already faded to green and yellow. Next, she tookpictures to document his condition. She’d take more over the next few days to trackthe progression of his recovery. “The good news is I don’t think you’ll need any stitches this time.”
