It was now six thirty a.m and the waiting room nearly deserted.
As the nurse approached, she raised an eyebrow. “Benji?” she asked. Before stepping behind Sam to peek at Tally’s face. “Oh, it is you! Come on through.” She led them to a cubicle just off the waiting area and drew the curtain closed behind them.
Sam pondered how Tally’s pink hair was probably quite memorable, and that was how the nurse had recognized him. He was concerned to think that the young man was on first-name terms with the emergency room staff, even if they did get his name wrong. That couldn’t be good.
Sam carefully lowered Tally on to a sitting position on the bed. As he straightened up, he found himself face to face with the nurse, who was giving him a cold, frightening stare.
“Are you his new pimp?” she asked sharply. She was a short middle-aged woman with mousy hair tied up in a neat bun and brown eyes glaring at him through thick glasses. Sam thought she was terrifying.
He blinked in surprise and then horror as the words sunk in. “What? No! I just found him and he is hurt.”
The nurse stared at him a moment longer before suddenly softening with a bright smile. “Okay, Benji, where are you hurt?” she said as she turned her attention to Tally.
Sam ran his hand through his hair and tried to gather his thoughts. Why was she calling him Benji? She seemed to know him? Had Tally lied about his name? Was he a sex worker? So many questions, but Sam was most horrified by the idea that he looked like a pimp.
He was under no illusions that he looked like a respectable businessman. He was too broadly muscled for that. His shoulder length hair, even tied back, was fairly unconventional. He wasn’t the most clean shaven, and he dressed casually in jeans.
Deirdre said he looked like Jason Momoa, which was incredibly flattering, but Sam doubted it was true. He thought he looked like a biker or a tattoo parlor owner, or the bar owner that he was. Not a pimp. But the nurse seemed to believe his denial, so hopefully it was more the circumstance than his appearance that had led her to that conclusion.
While he had been ruminating, the nurse had helped Tally take off his coat and tee shirt and was now calmly examining his wounds as if she saw such things every day. Maybe she did, mused Sam.
“Do you think we should call the police?” he asked.
She shrugged without looking up. Her attention fixed on assessing Tally’s injuries.
“It’s not my place to say. But I expect they will dismiss it as gang stuff. Especially as Benji is always getting into trouble.”
She looked up at Tally with a fond smile.
“Pop your trousers off, sweetie.”
Wordlessly, Tally obeyed.
The nurse examined his legs. Pausing at his ankles for a moment. She looked back up at Tally.
“How about your goods and services? Any damage there?”
Tally’s blue eyes grew huge, but he gently shook his head.
Sam felt the blood drain from his face. He hadn’t even considered that, which was stupid. Tally was young and pretty and someone had tied him up. Sam was deeply relieved that it didn’t seem to be the case.
“You still taking PrEP?” she asked, clearly not believing Tally.
Sam felt his insides turn cold. She seemed experienced enough to know. Was she right? Sam really hoped that Tally was telling the truth, the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.
Tally shook his head again. The nurse sighed.
“Get checked out at the clinic in three months.”
She reached for a trolley of supplies and started tending to the wounds. Sam watched her, in awe of her skills. She used Steri-strips on some and bandaged the worst ones, including those around his wrists. Others she left alone.
Throughout it all, Tally sat still and quiet. Only moving when the nurse told him to, his eyes flicked to Sam constantly, as if worried he would break his promise and leave. His uncertainty ached Sam’s heart, he wanted to earn the young man’s trust and the sudden desire to do so was startling in its intensity. Sam wondered what the hell had come over him.
Eventually, the nurse was finished. “All done, sweetie,” she said brightly, and started tidying away her equipment.
“What happens now?” Sam asked.
She cast him a quick glance. “He can go.”
