Page 61 of Nest of Thieves
Lark and Vette exchange glances. Doc turns to scold them, but his gaze catches on me.
“Oh, you’re looking fresh. Took him up on another date, then?”
“Yeah...” I trail off, eyes flashing to Mac.
His irises glitter with violence as he glares at Doc. I clear my throat, and Mac snaps his gaze to meet mine. His teeth clench together, but he forces a smile around the tool Doc has jammed into his arm.
“Kitten.”
“Focus, Doc. You’re making him bleed more.” Vette steps closer to the doctor, and the man visibly pales.
“Sorry.” Doc turns back to Mac.
“What happened?” I ask, wanting to step inside the room but unsure if I’m welcome. I’ve already seen more than I probably should have.
“Had a date with a pistol. She had one hell of a hit.” Mac hisses at the doctor, like a feral cat ready to attack.
“It’s one bullet and you’ll be fine as soon as I get it out,” Doc says. “I swear the men are always more dramatic. Here we go.” He extracts the medical tweezers, pinching a bloodied bullet between the two prongs. Dropping it into a bowl with a clink, he sets the tweezers aside and uses a wet rag to clean the blood off Mac’s arm before placing a piece of gauze over it and wrapping it with a bandage.
“It’ll heal, but you’ll need to see me every day to make sure it doesn’t get infected. No more gunfights.” The doctor pats Mac’s good arm and peels off his bloody gloves. He cleans up the mess he made.
“Are you going to stand there all day?” Mac asks, his sweaty forehead wrinkling with curiosity.
“I didn’t want to get in the way.” I take a tentative step inside the medical room.
Why do they have their own hospital room? Do they really get hurt that often?
I idly run my finger over the stitches on my forehead.
“Those’ll be ready to come out in another week or so. How does your head feel? Any lingering headaches?” The doctor moves to the sink to wash his hands, keeping his attention on me as he does so.
“No. Other than a little itching, I’m fine.”
He nods. “It wasn’t a big gash, but the stitches will make the scarring less severe. Wouldn’t want to mar such a pretty face.” He says it matter-of-factly, not like he’s hitting on me.
Still, the three alphas in the room let out low, warning growls.
My core clenches at the heady possessiveness filling the room. The scent is thick in the air and sweet like gasoline. Their claiming ripples over my skin like gooseflesh. I cross my arms.
“Thank you,” I say, ignoring the way the men make the doctor cower.
“It’s my job,” he says, casting his eyes in any direction but mine. “I’ll be on my way. Tomorrow at three, Mac. No pools. No baths. No lakes or rivers.” The doctor collects his things, brow furrowing in thought. “No fountains, no oceans. No large bodies of water. No fighting,” he adds, spearing Mac with a knowing look. “You’ll only delay the healing.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Mac does a bad salute.
“Goodbye, Doc.” Vette jerks his head in the direction of the door, and the doctor scrams.
“That was rude,” I say. “He was helping.”
“He was doing what he’s paid to do.” Vette searches me over. “Find what you were looking for?”
I bristle. “I wasn’t looking for anything.” The last two hours since Laurence left have been boring and restless. It was impossible to sleep with the opportunity to snoop. The office was locked, and my attempts to break in failed, so no, I didn’t find what I was looking for.
“No mientas.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t lie, mami.” Mirth dances in his dark brown eyes. “We can see everything you do.”
