Page 53 of Corrupt Desires

The doctor visibly relaxes now that the door is shut, and I can’t help but to scoot farther up the wall, trying to put myself into a better position if I need to protect myself. I’m a naked woman, and doctor or no doctor, this is a man left alone with two vulnerable women.

“Hi, umm, hi there. Emilia, is it? I’ve been sent here to take a look at you and get you patched up,” says the doctor, pushing his glasses further up on his nose.

“Alright, Doc. No funny business though.”

The doctor flushes and immediately starts sputtering over his words. “I-I-I would never do such a thing. These men are h-h-horrible. I became a doctor to help people, n-n-not hurt them.”

“Emilia. Let the man look you over. Plus, you’re starting to bleed through my sheet,” says Jess from across the room.

I wince as I look down and see the blood starting to seep through her sheet from where I clutch it to my chest. As much as I hate to show any form of weakness, the cut really fucking hurts.

“Fine, fine.”

The doctor instantly looks relieved. “Great, please lie back down so I can evaluate your injury. Here, let me help.”

As he reaches out his hand, he stops midway, letting it fall back to his side as I flinch away. He looks like he wants to say something, but he mercifully stays silent and lets me get into position on the floor.

As I lie back and stare up at the ceiling, I can’t help but to think of James. I hope he and his brother are close to a plan to get us all out of here. In case they aren’t though, I need to start coming up with my own plans. This doctor might be just the person I need.

“May I?” asks the doctor, interrupting my thoughts.

“You may. What is your name so I can properly address you?” I ask, watching him as he gets started taking various items out of his bag.

“It’s Dr. Crawford, ma’am.”

“Dr .Crawford,” I say, testing out the name on my tongue. “How long have you been doing this, Dr. Crawford?”

“This? As in whatever this is for Anthony? Just today. Threatened my family, I had no choice in the matter. At least, none if I want my family to stay safe. You have to understand, I have a wife and two little girls,” he sputters, getting more and more flustered the more he talks.

“I figured they must have something over you. The Romanis are as dirty as they come.”

The doctor simply nods as he reaches over to pull down the sheet, his eyes meeting mine briefly in an unspoken question. I grab the edge of the sheet, pulling it down enough that he can work, but not far enough that my breasts are completely on display.

“Oh my god…” he says under his breath, his eyes wide as he looks up into mine. “This must be excruciating for you.”

His reaction is warranted, I think to myself. The cut itself is from armpit to armpit across my chest, the skin along the cut flopping over slightly. I wince thinking of all the times Vincent dug his nasty fingers into it, making me black out, only to bring me back to consciousness to repeat the actions all over again. It’s going to require a lot of stitches, and I’m hoping to God this doctor has something for the pain.

My hopes are instantly dashed. “Unfortunately, I don’t have anything for the pain. They actually strictly forbade it.”

“Fuckingpendejos.”

Dr. Crawford looks at me sympathetically, then proceeds to clean my cut, though I can’t help muttering a few other choice words. The burn itself almost causes me to black out a time or two. The doctor is gentle though, and I can tell it upsets him to be in this predicament.

“Alright, Emilia. I have to stitch you up now. I can give you this rag here to bite down onto if needed, but one way or another this has got to get closed up.”

“I don’t need the rag, Dr. Crawford. Just do it.”

I don’t make it through three stitches before I pass out, the pulling and the pain too much for my body to handle.

* * *

“Emilia. Pssstt, Emilia. Wake up.”

“Wha-what?” I squint my eyes, blinded by the bright light above my head. I reach out my hand to block out the light, only to abruptly drop it when the pain from my chest becomes too much. Looking down, I see my mangled chest. The doctor clearly did the best he could do given the circumstances, but I look like a doll that’s been sewed back together.

“Emilia, are you OK?” asks Jess from across the room. She’s huddled in the corner, doing her best to protect her body from the chill in the air.

“Fucking-A, I feel like shit.”

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