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"Yeah. Yeah, I'll see you then."
Maybe it was for the best that he didn't ask me to stay. My sleep is plagued with nightmares.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Casey
The room Jake brings me to for my appointment is a lot like the other rooms of the house, all soft colors and warm lighting. The wall beside the exam table has a painting of water at sunset, the pinks and oranges of the sky melting into purple as deep blue waves crash into the sandy shore. It makes my fingers itch to touch. To dive right in. To hold my breath and let the ocean’s current decide if I’ll wash up on shore or drift off to the peaceful depths of the abyss.
“I’m Dr. Deacon,” the doctor says, his voice gentle and smooth. I can feel him looking at me, but my eyes stay focused on the painting, my back against the wall like someone might sneak up on me despite the room’s door being closed. “Which one of you is Jake?”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. It’s pretty fucking obvious which one is the operative and which one is the survivor in this room, but if the doctor wants to pretend, he can go right ahead.
“Me,” Jake says.
I tilt my chin to the right just enough to see Jake step forward and offer his hand. Dr. Deacon shakes it, giving him a broad smile that seems genuinely happy. “Thank you for your service.”
Jake ducks his head, which is kind of adorable. “Thank you. Uh - this is Casey.”
I step forward when Jake reaches for me, his fingertips brushing along my spine before his hand settles on the small of my back. I press into the touch and say, “Hello,” without looking at the man whose attention has now fallen on me.
“Hello, Casey. It’s nice to meet you as well.” I lean toward Jake, unable to speak or look up. Thankfully the doctor doesn’t seem to mind. “Which one of you will be going first?”
“I can,” Jake offers. I sense him looking down at me, my face turning up automatically to meet his gaze. His blue eyes are dark today. Like those painted waves that could decide my fate if I let them. It wouldn't be so bad to drown in him. In fact, I think it’d be quite nice.
Maybe we could even drown in each other.
“That okay?” Jake asks, pulling my thoughts back to reality. “I’ll show you it’s not so bad, then you can take your turn.”
My cheeks burn. I want to mumble, I’m not a child, but it actually sounds nice, so I nod in agreement instead.
“Alright, Jake is up first.” Dr. Deacon gestures to a brown leather exam table, telling Jake to have a seat before moving his hand toward a matching chair in the corner. “Casey, you can sit there for now.”
Jake’s already perched on the table, his hand reaching out to brush along my shoulder as I pass him. I shiver and bite down on my bottom lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. It’s completely unfair that he makes me feel like a puddle of goo with his simple touches and little looks. I’m supposed to be pissed at him for dragging me here!
Dr. Deacon strolls over to the counter where two files are sitting, opening the one on the left and reading the page while rolling his dress sleeves to his elbows. “I see you were shot twice over the course of your service. Both bullets were removed at the time of the injury. How’s the one on your leg?”
A band of panic squeezes my chest as I snap my gaze over to Jake. He was shot? When? Why? Where? Who?
“It’s fine,” Jake says, and for a moment I think he’s comforting me before realizing he’s answering the doctor’s question. “The scar gets itchy in winter, but nothing some lotion can’t handle.”
“Excellent. And the shoulder? Do you have any lingering pain or mobility issues?”
“Nope. Works just fine.”
The doctor nods, marking something on the chart. I dig my right thumb nail into the skin of my left thumb, trying not to panic. He’s fucking fine, Casey. He’s sitting right there. He’s not active anymore. His biggest danger now is getting overfed by Nolan.
“Do you have any issues in the areas you were stabbed or cut? I see the wound over your ribs got infected?”
Stabbed? Cut? Infected?
I swallow, feeling like I might throw up. God, I’ve been so fucking selfish. He’s been taking such good care of me, and I never even considered that he’s been hurt too. I mean, I knew he struggled after the night when he had to hurt Maison, but beyond that, I just… hadn’t even thought about it.
“The infection cleared up easily. No other issues.”
“And the final mission for the operation, the one at the party, my records show no new injuries acquired. Is that accurate?”
“Yup.” Jake shoots the doctor a wink. It’s sexy and playful, but it doesn’t make me feel any better, even as my stomach flutters with a whisper of arousal. “Make sure to mention that to Travis next time you see him. I’m not the one who got hurt, so clearly I’m the better operative.”
