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ChapterEight
Jess stepped into the exam room and looked around. It was typical of pretty much every doctor’s office she’d ever been in, the room painted a bright, crisp white, the examination table covered with a paper sheet, a rolling chair pushed next to a small desk attached to the wall. The blood pressure cuff was hanging on a wall by the bed, and there were various charts and posters, talking about all sorts of medical ailments, including one listing the signs of a heart attack and another encouraging people to give blood.
However, along with all the usual doctor fare, Rhys had added colorful artwork by a local artist depicting the Philadelphia skyscape from different perspectives, which broke up all the white and gave the room a cheerful atmosphere.
Rhys pointed to the exam table. “Why don’t you hop up and take a seat and we’ll get started. Don’t want to take too long because Aunt Berta’s chocolate chips cookies are the greatest thing you’ve ever tasted when they’re warm.”
Jess climbed up on the table as Rhys washed his hands, then placed a stethoscope around his neck. Tony had moved with her, coming to stand next to the table, more behind than next to her.
“Are you sure—” Tony murmured.
“Please don’t leave.”
She didn’t have a clue what it was about these men, but as long as she was with them, she could breathe.
With them, she was safe. Tony had said it. And she felt it.
After a lifetime alone, having them close made her feel things she’d never experienced. The deep-seated loneliness that never left her vanished in their presence.
Rhys stepped in front of her, placing his soft fingertips under her chin, tipping her face up so he could look at it. “There’s bruising on the right side of your face.” He probed that area completely. “But I don’t think there are any broken bones. And your nose looks fine.”
“His punch missed,” she said. “I’ve never…no one’s ever hit me like that before.”
A quiet rumble sounded from behind her. She’d only caught a quick glimpse of Tony’s face when he came charging into the motel room, looking for all the world like a Viking warrior. His unleashed fury had been the answer to a prayer—and the moment she saw him, all she could think was everything was going to be okay. She wasn’t going to die. Wasn’t going to leave Jasper an orphan.
That thought prompted a sob that she fought to choke down. Neither man missed the strangled cry.
“Jess,” Tony said.
She shook her head. “I’m okay,” she lied, the words too thin, thanks to the lump in her throat.
“I’m sorry he hit you,” Rhys said. “And I agree, taking a punch to the face hurts like hell.”
“You’ve been hit?” she asked, glad for the distraction from her own thoughts.
Rhys gave her a crooked grin. “I letthatone,” he lifted his chin in Tony’s direction, “talk me into sparring with him in a boxing ring once.”
Tony chuckled. “I told you to keep your hands up.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Spent the next week trying to explain to my patients why their mild-mannered doctor had a shiner.”
“I suggested he make up a story about getting into a bar fight, but I’m pretty sure he bored everyone with the truth.”
Jess laughed with them as Rhys moved on to feeling the top of her head, his fingers threading through her hair, his probing touch feeling like a soothing massage. Her scalp was still tender from where the man had pulled her hair. “No lumps or bumps. Sore?”
“Yes. A little. He pulled it hard.”
“I should have killed the motherfucker,” Tony muttered.
Jess’s heart fluttered—and the vengeful bitch part of her she usually held at bay smiled—at the pure venom in his tone and the thought that he would go that far to avenge someone who’d hurt her.
“Okay. Now for the hard part,” Rhys said. “I need you to lift your shirt, Jess, and lay down. You told Kayden that the man kicked you. I want to check to make sure no ribs were broken or cracked. If I suspect they are, you’re going to the hospital for X-rays, no matter what you say.”
Jess sucked in a wobbly breath, and she felt Tony shift, got the feeling he was about to leave.
“Don’t go,” she whispered, just before she tugged her shirt over her head. She slowly lowered herself down, the paper crinkling beneath her. Then she caught Tony’s gaze, which remained steadfastly on her face, and lifted her hand. He took it in his, his firm grip reassuring.
Rhys gently prodded her torso and chest, careful to avoid touching her breasts.
