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“Any wounds on your back?”
“No. The shirt protected me from burns.”
“Must’ve not been that big of an explosion,” she muses, taking ointment from her bag along with sterilized gauze. She applies the clear cream to the gauze and begins to gently dab the burn. Declan doesn’t make a noise, but I see the way the muscles in his arm tense with each touch.
I curl my hands into fists to prevent myself from doing something stupid like walking over there to console him. He’s a big boy. He can handle a little discomfort.
“What about you, Jane?” Dr. Ailish addresses the woman seated behind her as she works. “Any burns?”
“None like Declan’s. The heat barely touched me.”
“You were both lucky,” the doctor says.
I stare at her hands as she continues to apply the ointment to Declan’s burns, feeling an annoying sense of discomfort each time her slender hands brush my fiancé’s skin. I sense someone’s attention on me.
I look up and see Declan staring at me. The amusement is gone from his gaze, replaced with heat. The same heat from the MET.
Another flush creeps over my cheeks, and I look at my shoes to hide the evidence of my embarrassment.
“I heard about Enrique Santiago,” the doctor continues. My head snaps up at the name of the Puerto Rican gang leader. “Such a shame.”
“Indeed.” Declan’s expression shutters. I lift my gaze and peek at Jane to try and deduce what happened but she, too, is expressionless.
A glance at each of my bodyguards reveals the same.
My nostrils flare, and I bite the inside of my cheek to once again keep silent. Though, I fear an outburst is imminent if I hear one more secretive remark or see one more covert look exchanged between the people in this room.
The doctor finishes bandaging Declan’s burn and moves to apply antiseptic to his cuts and scratches. When she tries to touch the one on his face, he rears back and tells her to leave it. She doesn’t press the issue.
She discards her gloves and puts on a fresh pair before she moves to check on Jane. When she’s finished treating her superficial injuries, she rises from the couch with a decisive nod. “You both seem well enough. I’ll be back in two days to check on the burns, but I expect you’ll be fine.” She gathers her discarded gloves and picks up her bag.
“What about a concussion?” I blurt. All eyes shift to me, but I keep my attention on the doctor. “You haven’t checked either one of them.”
“I walked Declan and Jane through a self-evaluation earlier this morning shortly after the event.”
“But you’re a doctor. Shouldn’t you evaluate them yourself?”
Her lips part to respond, but Declan interrupts, “Forgive my fiancée, Ailish. She’s a touch overprotective.”
Beside me, Liam fails to muffle his chuckle. I shoot my traitorous bodyguard a glare. He responds with a subtle shrug and a crooked smile.
I shake my head and look back at the doctor. “Please evaluate them for a concussion. It will make me feel better.” The words roll off my tongue before I realize how they can be construed.
The flush remains on my cheeks, but I don’t retract my request. My insistence is just as much for Jane as for Declan. There was a lacrosse player at my brother’s high school who suffered a concussion during a game, but the athletic trainers didn’t pull him for an evaluation. He went to bed that night and never woke up. I’ve taken head injuries seriously ever since.
Dr. Ailish hesitates. I watch her glance at Declan. Whatever she sees makes her say, “All right.” She sits back on the couch and takes out a penlight.
The room is silent as she shines the light into Declan’s eyes and asks him a series of questions regarding balance, headache, vision changes, and more. I listen to each of his answers while staring at the doctor’s hands as she works even though I can feel Declan staring at me, willing me to look at him.
But I can’t.
My feelings about the man are confusing on a good day, but right now, while I’m concerned about his health, they are almost debilitating. I only look away when Dr. Ailish begins to press on his neck and shoulders, assessing them for tightness.
I turn to Jane. She’s already looking at me, wearing a small, understanding smile. I return it to the best of my abilities.
Dr. Ailish finishes with Declan and then repeats the same assessment with Jane. Once she decides both are concussion free, she packs her belongings away again and stands.
This time, I don’t object. “Thank you, Dr. Ailish.”
