Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 10546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 53(@200wpm)___ 42(@250wpm)___ 35(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 10546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 53(@200wpm)___ 42(@250wpm)___ 35(@300wpm)
“Cut the bullshit,” I snapped. Drew smirked, amusement gleaming in his brown irises. I crossed my arms over my chest.
“No bullshit,” Drew assured me. “Wanted you for years, but I kept to myself. Bided my time until I became someone worthy of you. Someone who could bring something to the table other than trauma and practically zero education.”
For a moment, I was speechless. Because I’d never seen Drew that way. I’d always seen him as a temptation. As someone forbidden and off-limits to me. I’d watched him climb the ranks over the years, proving time and time again that he was a force to be reckoned with and that this family was where he’d been meant to be all along.
“Don’t do that,” I said, feeling defensive of him. “Don’t say that about yourself. Almost everyone in this fucked up little family has come from some kind of shitty, fucked-up childhood. That doesn’t define who you are.”
Drew chuckled. “Never said it did, doc. I just said I wanted to bring something more to the table.” He spread his unbandaged, bloody hands wide. “Now, I can.”
I shook my head. “No,” I said, hoping I pushed enough finality into my tone to make the subject drop. “I’m not looking for a relationship, Drew. And I’m not looking for someone to warm my bed either, before you can even try suggesting that.” Instead of looking put down, he just continued looking amused, like what I was saying was somehow funny. “We’ll never happen.”
He chuckled. “Sure, doc. Whatever you say.” He lifted his hands up in front of his face, showing his bleeding hands. “Think you can bandage these back up for me?”
I shook my head. “I’ll clean them, then you need to soak them.” As much as I wanted to shove him out of my office so I could try to wrap my fucking head around what the hell was going on, I didn’t. I just studiously worked on cleaning his hands, then grabbed a wash basin from under the sink, filled it with warm water, and added Epsom salt. I set it beside him. “Soak your hands. I’m going to get lunch, and by the time I get back, you should be ready to have your hands dried and rebandaged.”
He didn’t say anything—just watched me as I shrugged out of my white coat and left the infirmary, making sure to leave the door open so he wouldn’t be tempted to do something stupid—like snoop through my shit. Blowing out a soft breath, I shoved my hands through my hair and made my way toward the kitchen. Niran, the head of security, was there already, scarfing down a salad and scrolling through his phone. He glanced up when I entered. “You look rough,” he noted.
I shot him a deadpan look. “Thanks,” I muttered. Niran lacked the social cues most other people had. He tried to seem normal, but he was just too much of a psychopath to ever truly get it right. Thankfully his husband, Bento, who was also the personal bodyguard for Rico’s husband, Anurak, didn’t mind and took Niran as he was.
Most of the rest of us did, too. Niran wasn’t a bad person. He just… lacked some of his humanity, was all.
“Something the matter?” he asked. He didn’t sound like he cared. He sounded rather bored, but I knew he was putting forth the effort. He usually always did, considering it was rare anyone ever saw me outside of my office or my home.
“Drew made his hands worse,” I lied, knowing Niran likely wouldn’t drop it if I said it was nothing. “He needs time off.”
Niran shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll let Alfonzo know. I’m sure he won’t be upset about spending more time with Maksim anyway.” He threw his salad container in the trashcan, rinsed his fork, then dropped it into the dishwasher. “How much time does he need?”
“A week at minimum,” I said. “I’ll re-evaluate from there. One of you should probably put your foot down with him on no training. He’s not listening to me.”
Niran nodded. “Alfonzo will give him the orders.” He dipped his chin at me respectfully. “Have a good one, Dr. Allman.”
When he left the kitchen, I sagged back against the counter and took a moment to gather my bearings. Once I felt like I was standing on somewhat solid ground again, I quickly ate my lunch, then headed back to my office with a bottle of water in my hand.
Walking inside, I paused, blinking at the empty room. Drew was gone, and everything had been put away. He’d even straightened out the gurney, making it look untouched. I frowned, realizing—much to my utter dismay—that I was disappointed to find him no longer in my space.
Goddammit. He was already fucking me up.
Sighing, I nudged my door shut and dropped into my desk chair so I could type out an email to Niran, Alfonzo, and Rico, outlining Drew’s injuries and my recommended treatment plan. I might not be able to take care of Drew like he was mine, but I could do this, at the very least. And it would just have to be enough to sate me.