Page 74 of Chasing Caine

Antonio left with Pasquale and Bodyguard One. Number Two remained inside the door.

Dr. Ivan frowned at him. “I can’t work on someone with you right there. Wait outside.”

The bodyguard nodded and did as he was told.

The doctor sat on a wheeled stool next to the bed. “You’re favoring your left ankle. That’s why you’re here?”

“You don’t have an Italian accent.” I switched to English. "Would English be easier?”

“Perceptive,” he said in English, spinning on the stool to withdraw a pair of gloves from the drawer behind him. The room was pristine, all white and gleaming stainless steel. He flicked on a rolling light and pulled it to the end of the bed. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, my ankle. I twisted it on some rocks while we were hiking.”

He nodded, standing to open one of the upper cabinets, and swung out an x-ray machine. “If it’s not broken or fractured, we’ll check for a sprain.”

“Definitely not broken.” I’d finished a climb once with a broken ankle. It was more a tingling sensation than the intense pain I felt at the grotto.

“I’ll check anyway.” His hand hovered over the boot. “Can I take this off?”

I nodded, leaning back and gripping the rail on the side of the bed. “So, where are you from?”

“Need a distraction?”

“Yup.”

“Originally Detroit, in the United States.”

I snapped up. “Really? I’m from Brenton.”

He paused with one lace undone. “The Brenton near Lansing?”

“Yeah, small world.” I lay back down, the last of my worries fading. “Where’d you go to school?”

“Med school in Ann Arbor.”

The unlacing was audible, but I stared at the ceiling instead of watching. Breathing. “One of my best friends studied law there.”

“When did she graduate?”

“He.” I sucked in a breath as he pulled the boot open, my ankle pulsing again. “Pretty elaborate sick bay you have here.”

“It’s a cushy job.” He eased the boot off, my grip tightening on the rail. “Do you want me to pull the sock off or just cut it?”

A small laugh choked out of me. “I’m assuming you’ll be replacing it with a bandage, so please cut it. I don’t think I can handle anything else.”

“Wise choice.”

I gritted my teeth as he worked, until he produced an ice pack from somewhere, and the pain became more bearable. “So it’s cushy, even with the muscle hovering over you?”

He chuckled as he set up for the x-ray. “They’re paid to act intimidating, but they’re great guys once you’ve lost a few hands of cards to them.”

“Good to know.” Reminder: When they kidnap you, play poker for your freedom.

“I’m going to step out for a moment while I take an x-ray.” He left, some clicking noises sounded, and he returned almost immediately. “Jason asked if you were alright.”

“Jason?”

“The muscle outside.” He put the ice back on and I could breathe again. “The image will take a couple of minutes, but from the looks of the ankle and how much pain you’re in, I’m guessing it’s a sprain.”

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