Page 190 of Retribution
Marie turns off the water and dries her hands, turning back to face us.
“I’m so sorry all of that happened to you, Isolde,” she says, taking a deep breath. “These exams are awful in any circumstances, but it doesn’t make these any easier. I’m glad you have people surrounding you to help.”
Marie throws out her paper towel and swallows back anything else she may want to say before she leaves.
“She was really gentle,” Isolde sighs, gazing up at me. “It would have been awful with anyone though.”
“I know, baby,” I agree, my hand on her back as she sits up.
“What made you think of that song?” she asks, trying to distract herself.
“There weren’t many channels that worked in my college dorm, but there was one that always ran older films,” I say, bending down to assist her in getting dressed again.
I leave her leggings and panties at her thighs, knowing that she’ll want to clean up, and then put on her boots since I never removed her socks. Talking is helping my own volatile emotions, and I really hope Dr. Royal manages to keep things professional. My temper is on a hair trigger right now, and I’m very likely to hit him.
Helping Isolde to her feet, I hold out the box of tissues as I continue.
“I watched a lot of old black and white films when I got bored,” I admit. “Frank Sinatra seemed to be in a lot of them. I guess it stuck with me.”
Isolde tosses out the tissue and fixes her leggings, smiling slightly. Tears are drying on her face, but neither of us acknowledge hers or mine. Opening my arms, I see the moment she decides to throw herself at me. Holding her tightly, I decide that I’m going to keep her in my lap for the rest of this miserable appointment.
“I’m sorry I made you come here,” I mumble against her hair.
“I’m not,” she sighs, her voice muffled. Tilting her head upward, she smiles ruefully at me. “I need to know what’s going on with my body. It’s part of what’s so terrible about my experience. Ophelia and her people hurt me. It’s hard to face how much they did, but it’s the only way to move forward. I don’t want to make anything worse by doing something that’ll exacerbate my injuries.”
Someone knocks on the door, and I tug Isolde toward a chair to sit in my lap.
“Come in,” I call out gruffly.
Oliver opens the door, and I nod that he can come in.
“The doctor is headed this way with some papers. I want to make sure that we erase any digital hint that we were here,” he explains, sitting down beside us.
“You may as well have the guys come in too,” Isolde says. “We’re leaving as soon as we’re done here.”
“Thank god,” Grant says, coming in with Alesso. “Did I mention that I hate how hospitals smell?”
“He’s kind of a baby about it,” I admit, shrugging.
“I really am,” Grant mutters.
Dr. Royal knocks on the door before coming in and moving as far away as possible to stand in a corner.
“I don’t want to talk about what I had to do for these,” he sighs. “Your white blood cells are elevated, which makes me believe you’re fighting an infection. There’s nothing pointing to anything specific, so I’d suggest rest and patience as it runs its course. Your body showed very low levels of the hormone that cycles you into your heat though.”
Isolde makes a face, and I can feel her shoring up her walls. Yet, she doesn’t push me out. I can see Grant standing straighter as well, his eyes on our girl. She’s tensing in an effort to get through whatever she needs to say.
“Ophelia was obsessed with forcing my heat,” she says slowly. “One of her hobbies was creating drugs to force people to do what she wanted. There’s anything from drugs to promote longer erections, to pushing alphas into dangerous ruts, and much more. I took something before I was kidnapped that won’t allow me to have my heat medically forced, and though Ophelia tried her damndest, she failed. Could that be attributing to the low hormone levels?”
Dr. Royal breathes shallowly as he allows that to sink in, and I kind of feel bad for him for a second. While I’m sure he hasseen some pretty terrible cases, Isolde doesn’t act like a victim. She’s not meek, though she is allowing us to support her.
Isolde doesn’t shrink from how terrible the world is. In fact, she faces it head on instead of hiding away. There’s no correct way to process things, but Dr. Royal is struggling as he comes face to face with evil that shouldn’t exist.
We couldn’t protect Isolde. She saved herself.
“Yes,” he rasps. “That explains some of the other things I’m seeing in your blood tests as well. Can you tell me what you took before the kidnapping? I’ve never heard of a medication to prevent a forced heat, and it appears to be permanent.”
“I created it,” I say bluntly. “I didn’t have time to test it, which will account for any kind of reactions she may be having since she was my test subject. I wanted to alleviate Isolde’s fears of going to the office with me. The security that’s meant to protect us failed the day she was taken.”
