Page 23 of One for the Money
“Alright, well, you definitely need stitches. So we’ll have to get you to the ER since I can’t do them.”
“I can do ‘em,” Jude says, taking a step toward me. “I’ve done it before.” There is no doubt that the shock I’m feeling is reflected on my face, which is confirmed when he runs his hand through his hair and shrugs. “I’ve been in a couple of bar fights. Didn’t always want to go in.” He gestures at the scars peeking out from the collar of his shirt, which are puckered and did not heal flat. “I can’t promise it’ll be pretty, but I can do it, Brian.”
“I don’t know…” I grit my teeth. “I don’t think I feel comfortable with that.”
Brian’s looking at Jude with gratitude before he turns back to me. “Could you walk him through it and make sure it’s done well? I don’t mind. I’d rather not go to the emergency room. Our insurance isn’t great.”
Jude has the good sense to look a little bashful. “Getting it at all, being a circus, was hard enough,” he grumbles. He steps up behind me and kneels down beside me. “What do you say, Doc?”
Against my better judgment, I sigh and sit down on my ass in front of Brian. “I guess. Suppose this is our only option. Can we at least go back to my trailer so it’s not done out here in the open? I need to try to mitigate the risk of infection the best I can.”
Brian nods tightly and pushes to his feet, where he wavers a bit. I reflexively dodge forward to help him, but Jude sidesteps me and grabs him instead.
Back in my trailer, I stretch out a sterile cloth for Brianto rest his arm on. I pull out the peel pack, which contains the necessary tools for the procedure.
“Okay, Jude, I know you haven’t used any of this stuff before, but you need to try and follow my directions exactly if we don’t want Brian to be left with an ugly scar. First, we need to clean the wound. Go wash your hands for two minutes and then glove up.”
I’m going to need to make sure I call in an antibiotic prescription for Brian, because I only have a day or two worth here, and this is a less-than-ideal environment.
Once Jude is back, I hand him a bottle filled with antiseptic. “Okay, clean the wound. Great, okay. Brian, do you mind if I thread the needle, or do you want Jude to do that?”
Brian smiles at me with appreciation. “You can do that.”
I nod and run off to wash my hands and glove up. I pull the needle and suture thread from the kit and get the needle ready for Jude before passing it to him.
“Now, Jude, let’s inject some pain meds,” I say, pulling out a syringe and extracting some lidocaine from a small bottle. “Just inject it right there.” I point where I need the pain meds to go, and Jude pushes the plunger. Brian winces, but otherwise stays stock still.
We wait a few minutes for the medicine to kick in. “Jude, can you poke him a few times—gently—and see if the meds kicked in?” The Alpha is great at following my directions, and when Brian confirms the medication has taken effect, we move on to the next step.
“Okay, Jude, you need to hold the wound together with one hand. Perfect. Now, enter here,” I point at the spot I need him to put the needle in, “and then push it all the way through. See how it catches on the knot?”
Jude grunts, not looking up from the wound. Good, he’s taking this seriously.
“Tie it off… no, twist the needle—yeah, just like that. Okay, now you’re going to feed through again, knotting off each one.”
I watch as Jude carefully, slowly, stitches the wound back together. I wince several times at the sloppy stitches and too tightly pulled skin in places, but overall, he does a better job than I expected him to.
Once he’s done and he’s tied off the last knot and cut the thread, I hand him a sterile dressing to cover the wound with.
“Brian, you’re going to need to take a course of antibiotics since this isn’t the most sterile environment. I’ve got some here, but you’ll need to head into town to get a prescription, too. Make sure you keep this clean and dry. Over-the-counter meds will help with the pain.”
“Thanks, Doc, for being so understanding,” the soft-spoken Alpha says. “I appreciate you not blowing me off.”
“Of course not. You have a right to your beliefs and to feel comfortable. I’m just glad Jude was able to step in and help.” Brian pushes to his feet, and I go into my med kit to give him what antibiotics I have. “I’m going to call in the prescription for you. Go rest.”
Chapter 9
My hands are shakingas I watch Brian go.
“I need a fucking drink,” I mutter under my breath. Alex smiles and pulls her gloves off.
“I think I’ve got some wine, if you want some. I don’t drink much, but Quinton and Matteo apparently got some on BOGO.”
I shake my head. “No thanks. It was just an expression.”
Of course, it wasn’t.
I’ve been sober for six years, which is fucking hard to do in a circus, but I’m better for it. But still, when stressful situations arise, wanting a drink is my first instinct.
