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Some hours later I find myself alone in the break room, my thoughts drifting back to Teddy's brother. I can't deny that he was attractive – dark hair, a glimpse of green eyes, and an air of danger about him. In some ways, I wouldn't mind taking him up on the good time he promised, if only he weren't a murderous maniac. That's one red flag I won't mess with.
Men have been so disappointing, really. When I got married, I was a virgin – did the whole good girl thing because I was told that's what God wanted for all women. Looking back, it's weird and creepy. The wedding night came, and our sexual compatibility was just terrible. But I didn't know any better at the time. I figured that was normal and that I hadn't been missing out on anything.
Since then, I've made up for lost time, especially after the divorce. I've had partners who were better than others, but no one has ever really scratched that itch for me. I've come to believe that men are just incapable – incapable of being trusted and incapable of satisfying a woman. The world gives them far too much credit.
"Hey, Doc, you okay?" A staff member comes into the room to fill the vending machine, snapping me back to reality.
"Fine," I reply, forcing a smile. "Just...thinking."
"Alright," he says, giving me a concerned look before finishing his task and disappearing down the hallway.
I sigh, knowing that my thoughts keep circling back to Teddy's brother. It's not like I could act on these feelings anyway – even if he weren't a criminal, my trust issues run deep. And yet, something about him has gotten under my skin like no one else has in a long time.
I can't help but wonder – what would it be like to just let go? To trust someone enough to surrender control, even if only for a moment? And why on earth does it have to be him that makes me feel this way?
"Life's funny like that," I think bitterly. "The one man who could potentially break through my walls is also the one I should avoid at all costs." But then again, isn't that always how life goes – cruelly ironic and endlessly frustrating?
My pager hasn't gone off in a while, but I'm tired of sitting in the break room. I stand and make my way back to the main corridor.
"Sir, you cannot come back here," I hear the security guard say as he's clearly trying to chase someone through the main doors. My heart races, and I can feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up as I hear the deep voice that I'm already starting to get addicted to. "Great, I'll keep that in mind," Constantino says in response, clearly unfazed by the imposing guard.
I turn to see him heading towards me, and I have to keep my mouth from dropping to the floor. He's wearing dark trousers and a silk shirt that he's all but busting out of, his muscles looking a lot larger under the fluorescents than they did in the dark halls of the mansion. He has tattoos crawling up the sides of his neck that I didn't realize when I had treated him. Getting a good look at him standing and in seemingly perfect health is making me feel things I should definitely not be feeling toward a murderer.
"Tell him it's okay," he says to me, holding my gaze as he gets close. I'm unable to look away. "Tell the big man that youknow me." I sigh, not sure whether this is a good idea, but there's something about this man that makes it hard to say no to him. I turn to the security guard. "Thank you, Larry. It's okay. I know him. Sorry for any trouble."
Larry glares at Constantino and then looks back at me. "If you need anything, just call."
I smile. At least someone is nice and seems to care about me in this place. "Thank you, Larry," I say to him. He leaves, and I give Constantino a death glare. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you even find me?" Although I know the answer to that already. Teddy is the obvious culprit.
"Let's talk somewhere private," he says, grabbing me by the arm roughly and pulling me into a triage room. I can feel my skin tingle from his touch, but I try to ignore it. This is not the time or place for such thoughts, especially considering who he is.
The door to the triage room slams shut behind me, and I yank my arm away from Constantino's grip. "Do not touch me without permission," I snap at him.
He smirks at me, and I can't help but notice how attractive he looks even when I want to punch him in the face.
"Sorry, Doc," he says insincerely. "Although, I guess you could say now we're even."
I roll my eyes. "Hardly. I saved your life. There's implicit consent given for that sort of thing."
He shrugs, leaning against the wall. "Maybe I'm the sort of guy who doesn't want to be saved. What are those people called? Christian Scientists?"
"Christian Scientists?" I scoff. "There's absolutely nothing about you that strikes me as a man of God."
“I dunno,” he smirks. “Most women call me 'God' in bed," he retorts.
My frustration mounts, but I hold it back. "Christian Scientists and people who refuse medical treatment generallyhave a bracelet or marking. That's not what you've got." The moment I say it, I almost slap my hand over my mouth, realizing I may have given away too much information.
Constantino pushes off the wall and walks towards me slowly, backing me up until I'm forced to lean against the patient table. "That's actually exactly why I'm here," he says. "I want to know just what you saw."
"What I saw?" I repeat, trying to buy myself time to think clearly. I realize he's talking about his wrist tattoo, but I can't decide whether to admit what I know or feign ignorance. He holds up the exact wristband I had unbuckled. "This was a little looser than I've always worn it," he says. "So we just need to have a little talk about what you saw and what you didn't see."
I meet his green gaze, refusing to back away from it. There's a thrill in standing up to a man like this, and I can feel it coursing through my body, turning me on for the first time in a long time. "Alright," I say, not backing down. "Then talk."
He moves in even closer, his scent enveloping me. It smells like a good cologne, but I know it's just him. "You did save my life," he says. "And I don't like to be in people's debts. So, as payback, I'll let you live."
"Wow," I say sarcastically. "How generous of you."
"Yes, I am generous," he says with a smirk. "So the offer stands for as long as you keep your mouth shut about just what you saw under this wristband. Do we have an understanding?"
