Page 9 of The Devil's Embrace

Oh.

“Sorry.”

The doctor rolled a finger in the air at him. “Lay down on your stomach. It’ll hurt too much if you try to remove your pants on your own, so I’m going to have to do it for you.”

“My what?” He grabbed at his belt, only then realizing it was missing. With a frown, he glanced down at his pants…which weren’t his pants. “What am I wearing?”

Not pants at all, it turned out. Two dark brown aprons with dried paint smears on them were tied securely around his waist, covering his private areas from view.

“It was the only thing I could find,” the doctor told him, the apologetic and gentle tone from earlier no longer present. He pulled the wheeled table and stepped back in closer.

“You could find?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, grabbing a tube of cream and twisting off the cap as he spoke. “I was the one who discovered you in the art room.”

“You were there?” His confusion deepened for some reason. He tried but couldn’t remember. The last thing he recalled was stepping into a room after Heathe and then…nothing.

“I was invited to the reunion, yes. I heard the sounds and got curious. By the time I found you, the assailant—my apologies, yourconsensual sexual partner—had already finished and was in the process of getting ready to leave. In my haste to check on you, he managed to get away.” He tipped hishead at Calix. “Interesting that your lover didn’t stick around to make sure you were all right. If he’s your boyfriend, might I suggest breaking up with him?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” He hung his head, not wanting the other man to see how red his cheeks had gotten.

The doctor let out another sigh, this one sounding more annoyed than the last. “I already did a physical examination at the scene, Detective. There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

“Somehow, the fact that you’ve already seen me naked isn’t as comforting as I believe you intend for it to be.” Still, he forced himself to inhale deeply before lifting his chin back up. He gave a single, curt nod of his head. “All right. Let’s do this.”

“You seem to get over things rather quickly.” It was hard to tell if he was impressed by that or simply making an observation.

It was difficult, but Calix somehow managed to drape himself over the table, resting his head down on his folded arms. “I just process things and accept them as they are.”

“Accept them as they are?” He chuckled. “How very quaint.”

Calix angled his head to stare at the doctor as he stepped right up to the side of the table. “Doctor?”

“It wasn’t an insult.” The corner of his mouth turned up reassuringly. “Are you ready?”

“Yes—Wait.”

He quirked a brow.

“What’s your name?” Calix asked, hating how that sounded but needing to know. To save face, he decided to spin it into something funny, chuckling humorlessly as though he’d made a joke when they both knew he had not. “I’d just like to know the name of the guy who’s about to have his hands on my ass, that’s all.”

The doctor smiled back and then reached for the end of one of the aprons, not even bothering to untie it from around his waist.

Calix felt a gust of cold air stinging his torn flesh, but the doctor’s fingers were on him in a second, running numbing cream over him that worked instantly to soothe the burn.

He almost moaned. Would have, if not for the doctor’s next words.

“Aodhan Solace,” he introduced himself, kindly ignoring the way Calix’s breath hitched. “I look forward to working with you, Detective.”

He’d seen that name before, scrawled on the documents sent over by the chief about the case. There was a doctor who was meant to liaison with them to help make things run more smoothly.

What were the odds it happened to be the same doctor that was currently buried knuckles deep in Calix’s torn asshole?

He squeezed his eyes shut and rethought his earlier relief.

Had he thought it a good thing he hadn’t been murdered?

No, because at least then he wouldn’t be in the process of dying right now.

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