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“Yes, I had an accident at home.”
Megan, who hates relying on people, leans into my chest, damn near hyperventilating as Dr. Yasmin slowly rolls up her sleeves and then her pajama bottoms to inspect her injuries. I realize I didn’t check her legs, but I can see that her knees are cut up a little as well.
Dammit.
My hands itch to inflict punishment on the man who crawled onto my skylight like a goddamn roach, and not because he tried to kill me, but because he hurt Megan. I shouldn’t have my best men here at the hospital. Parker and Lars should be out with the rest of the team looking for that asshat. Hell, when we get out of here, I might have to join the hunt. I’d like to personally send him on his way to the underworld where he belongs.
“Well,” Dr. Yasmin comments after a brief examination. “It looks like most of the shards have been plucked out already, which is good. But there are still a few remaining, and we’ll need to treat you for any possible infection. I can have a female resident come in and take care of this quickly.”
“We’d like you to do it,” I tell her plainly.
“I understand your concern,” she replies. “But this is how our residents get the training they need. We are a teaching hospital.”
“Not tonight,” I counter firmly, doing my best to keep my composure. I’m exhausted, and I have a shooter to catch. I don’t have time for some uppity doctor who thinks she’s too good to pull the glass out of someone’s arm.
We have a brief stare-off, and then the doctor finally addresses Megan. “I will have to disinfect your arms and legs before I proceed, and it might sting a little. Are you ready?”
Her voice is kind, and the usually mouthy Megan nods, her face buried in my chest. Seeing her turn to me for comfort and protection is satisfying, even if it kills me to know that I’m the reason she’s like this.
She doesn’t flinch quite as much as the doctor removes the shards from her skin and puts them in a stainless steel bowl. By the end of the procedure, Megan is still leaning into me, but some of her fear has faded. I wonder if she simply had a bad experience with a doctor once, although my instincts tell me that it might not be that simple.
Dr. Yasmin carefully cleans the wounds with a saline solution and pat dries them with clean gauze. However, the moment she brings out a dark thread and needle, Megan begins to shiver and I immediately grasp her tightly, glaring at the doctor.
“We need to close your wounds,” Dr. Yasmin gently tells Megan as she looks at me hard.
“I know,” Megan finally speaks. “And I apologize for my behavior, but I know it will hurt badly.”
Dr. Yasmin frowns. “Not with the numbing cream.”
“W-What’s that?” Megan asks.
I see the doctor pause, and then, after a moment of silence, she asks carefully, “Have you ever had stitches before?”
Megan nods mutely.
“Can you tell me the process? As in, what steps did the doctor take?”
Megan shivers again. “I knew somebody who was a nurse, and she’d always stitch me up.”
I practically bite a hole into my tongue as Megan briefly pauses before she finishes her story. Why the fuck has a girl as young as Megan had a lot of experience with getting stitches?
“She would bring me to the local hospital to stitch me up, but since it was a favor, she’d tell me to sit still and not make any noise, or she’d get fired. There wasn’t any numbing cream involved. Just a needle and thread. I didn’t even know there was such a thing.”
Dr. Yasmin stiffens, and her voice remains steady as she picks up a tube and shows it to Megan.
“Well, I’m going to use this prescription-level numbing cream on you so that you don’t feel any pain, and your sutures will dissolve into your skin in two weeks, so you won’t even feel that either. You also need three stitches on your forearm and two on your leg, but again, the same process.”
I continue to hold her close but remain silent so that Megan can independently navigate the rest of our visit to the Emergency Room. The entire process is quick and efficient and while Megan’s breathing is unsteady and her eyes glaze over at times, she doesn’t say a word. Dr. Yasmin is professional throughout and when we’re about to leave, she takes me aside for a quick word.
I reluctantly hand Megan over to Lars and step away to hear whatever she has to say.
“Make this quick, please.”
“Somebody put a needle in that girl without anesthesia and, based on her story, it feels like it was done on purpose to harm her. If you can provide it, I would like that nurse’s name and report her for malpractice. Your fiancee has been traumatized.”
I study the doctor, and with a longer glance, I realize that she’s not as middle-aged as I thought. The lines on her forehead are probably from stress or too much time in the sun. If I had to guess, I would say that she’s only a year or so younger than me. With that realization, an idea strikes me as I give her a meaningful smile.
“I’ll let you know.”
