Page 22 of One for the Money
I stop at the stairs to my trailer, smiling over my shoulder. “You’re not exactly the scary twin.”
He grasps his chest and stumbles backwards. “Ouch, at least kiss the brick before you hurl it at me! What makes Dexter scarier than me?”
“Never met a man who can glower like that before.” I give him a little finger wave. “Anyways, I’m going to go into my trailer now. Nice seeing you, Dario.”
He waves animatedly at me, his face stretched into a broad smile. “You can see me as much as you want, Doc! I’m happy to fill your vision.”
My nose wrinkles at the weird offer as I head into my trailer.
Dario Reynolds is certainly not a bad thing to look at. He’s like a work of art, with tattoos that look like they belong in a comic book brightening his light olive skin.
But I can’t think about an Alpha like that. I’m here for a job. Nothing more.
My phone ringsviolently on the counter as I’m preparing a modest dinner in my trailer. I’m still a little salty that Quinton and Matteo stocked me up with so many groceries, but I can’t deny that I’m glad to have them.
I snatch the phone and wedge it between my shoulderand ear as I chop up some cucumber. “This is Alex,” I say into the receiver.
“Doc, I need you in the dress tent,”comes Jude’s tight voice through the tinny speaker.“I’ve got someone who needs stitches.”
I sigh and drop my knife. “Damn, no wonder you needed an on staff doctor. You’ve hired some clumsy carnies.”
“We’re not carnies,”he snaps at me.“Just get over here.”
“On my way, boss,” I say, rolling my eyes and hanging up. I stare longingly at the ingredients for the sushi bowl I was preparing before shoving them into my small fridge. “I’ll have dinner later, I guess.”
I snag my bag, making sure my suture kit is inside, and make the short trek to the dress tent. Inside, Jude is sitting next to an Alpha with a cleanly trimmed beard and dark eyes. He’s clutching a cloth around his arm and saying something in low whispers to Jude. The Alpha is around my age, but I can’t remember what his role here is. There’s got to be over fifty employees here. It’s going to take a while to learn who they all are.
Jude spots me and waves me over.
“Alex, this is Brian. He cut up his forearm.” The other Alpha moves to speak again, and Jude cuts him off. “He definitely needs stitches.”
I nod and crouch down in front of Brian, who visibly shrinks back from me. “Hi, Brian. I’m Dr. Alex. Do you mind if I take a look at your arm?”
“I’m sorry, but you can’t,” he says timidly.
“I told you I don’t give a shit about that,” Jude barks. “Just let her take care of you.”
I shoot Jude a glare and shush him before turning back to Brian. “Is there any reason why you don’t want me to treat you?”
“I mean no offense, Doctor,” he says softly, “I’m sureyou’re quite qualified. But I cannot be touched by an unmated Omega.”
My mind lights up in recognition. As one of the few Omega doctors, I’ve only encountered this situation a couple of times, but I’ve learned how to handle it effectively. “Ah, okay. That’s alright, I’ve met a few people of your religion before. You’re a Paragon, right?”
He nods, eyes brightening with approval at my recognition.
The Paragons of God, or Paragons, are an older religious group that adheres to strict boundaries between Alphas and Omegas. From what I know, it’s not from a place of superiority, but of respect and reverence. As much as an Omega shouldn’t be touched by an Alpha other than their mate, an Alpha should not touch or be touched either.
They hold equal responsibility to uphold their virtue.
“Unfortunately,” I continue, “it’s always been in a situation where I could grab a Beta or Alpha doctor. I’m concerned you won’t heal if you really do need stitches.” He winces, and I can see the turmoil in his eyes.
I don’t begrudge anyone their beliefs. While I disagree with the practice, it’s not an uncommon one, and I understand the thought process behind it. Brian is so polite and gentle in asserting his beliefs that it’s hard to begrudge his desire for accommodations.
“How about you remove the cloth and let me look at it, and we’ll go from there?” I ask, scooting back a little to make him more comfortable.
Brian nods and moves the cloth, and I wince. Blood immediately starts flowing from the large gash, which gapes open. It doesn’t look like it hit anything vital, but it’s definitely going to need stitches.
“You can cover it up. Try to squeeze it together a littleto slow down the bleeding.” He does what I say, and for the first time, I notice that Jude has moved to the other side of the tent, his jaw tight. I appreciate that he’s not hovering, but it looks like it’s killing him to keep his distance. I turn my attention back to Brian.
