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“Yeah, boss?”
“Can you stay here with the slave and keep watch? I’d like to talk to the doc outside for a moment.”
Benny’s eyes narrow on him, but he doesn’t ask questions, just nods.
The doc finishes putting the IV in Carter’s arm, then nods at Nathan to show his acknowledgement of the plan. Nathan leads him out into the hallway and quietly shuts the door behind himself. He takes a few steps away to make sure they won’t be heard before asking, “How bad is this?”
“We need to wait for the tests, but can you answer a few more questions for me?”
“Of course.”
The doc pulls out a little notebook and pen, then asks, “When did this start?”
“About an hour ago, I think.” Nathan stares at the ground, unable to look at the doc even though the doc won’t judge. “But he had a particularly grueling night. He was entertainment at the Kensington party.”
“What form of entertainment?”
“He was put on a fucking machine and flogged. He… bled.”
The doc’s smile is one of amusement and envy, like he’s sad he didn’t get to attend this particular event. It makes Nathan want to pin him up against the wall and choke the life right out of him.
“Well then, he’s most definitely exhausted and also dehydrated. Rest and the IV will help with that. How much blood did he lose?"
"Not a lot. The injuries were minor."
"Good." He makes a note. "Now, has he undergone any blunt force trauma, specifically to his torso?”
“I - no?” Nathan closes his eyes, trying to think. Trying to remember. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Okay. I won’t bother lugging an ultrasound over here to check him out, then. I’m sure he’s fine.”
Nathan can’t stop the look of disgust that crosses his face. “No, you’re going to bring the fucking ultrasound and anything else that’s needed to make that boy better.”
The doc raises his eyebrows, lips twitching, and Nathan realizes that probably wasn’t good. He shouldn’t have said any of that.
Pasting a bored, annoyed expression on his face, Nathan says, “If this slave dies on your watch, you’re going to pay me back my 2 million dollars, do you understand me? That slut needs to stay alive until I can get my hands on Maison Beckett and make him watch as we tear his baby brother into pieces. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir. Absolutely.” The doc nods frantically. “Then I’ll get the rest of my equipment while the tests run. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Great.” Nathan scratches the back of his neck. He should leave it there. He’s already shown enough concern. But this isCarter, and Nathanloveshim. “He had some piss in his mouth the other night. He swallowed some. Could that be the cause?”
The doc shrugs. “Possibly, but not likely. We’ll be able to know more once the test results come in.”
“And that will be when?”
“A few hours. I’ll rush it. A buddy of mine will run the blood under the table.”
“If I offer you an extra 10 grand, will you make that one hour?”
The doc blinks slowly, then grins. “I can sure as hell try.”
Nathan nods once, as if to say that’s final. “Anything I can do while you’re gone?”
That was too suspicious. Far too suspicious. The doc looks at Nathan like he’s unrecognizable for a moment. He shakes his head in confusion, frowning down at his little notebook, before saying, “Well, I - just have him rest. Drink water. Keep the IV in.”
“I’m not good at this shit,” Nathan says as a non-apology, shrugging a shoulder as he tries to work himself out of this hole he’s dug himself. “I just don’t want him to die on my hands. Then I look like a fucking idiot.”
The doc chuckles. “He’s not dying any time soon, sir. Don’t you worry. I’m sure you’ll be back to fucking him by tomorrow.”
