He chuckled. “Sure, doc. Whatever you say.” He lifted his hands up in front of his face, showing his bleeding hands. “Think you can bandage these back up for me?”
I shook my head. “I’ll clean them, then you need to soak them.” As much as I wanted to shove him out of my office so I could try to wrap my fucking head around what the hell was going on, I didn’t. I just studiously worked on cleaning his hands, then grabbed a wash basin from under the sink, filled it with warm water, and added Epsom salt. I set it beside him. “Soak your hands. I’m going to get lunch, and by the time I get back, you should be ready to have your hands dried and rebandaged.”
He didn’t say anything—just watched me as I shrugged out of my white coat and left the infirmary, making sure to leave the door open so he wouldn’t be tempted to do something stupid—like snoop through my shit. Blowing out a soft breath, I shoved my hands through my hair and made my way toward the kitchen. Niran, the head of security, was there already, scarfing down a salad and scrolling through his phone. He glanced up when I entered. “You look rough,” he noted.
I shot him a deadpan look. “Thanks,” I muttered. Niran lacked the social cues most other people had. He tried to seem normal, but he was just too much of a psychopath to ever truly get it right. Thankfully his husband, Bento, who was also the personal bodyguard for Rico’s husband, Anurak, didn’t mind and took Niran as he was.
Most of the rest of us did, too. Niran wasn’t a bad person. He just… lacked some of his humanity, was all.
“Something the matter?” he asked. He didn’t sound like he cared. He sounded rather bored, but I knew he was putting forththe effort. He usually always did, considering it was rare anyone ever saw me outside of my office or my home.
“Drew made his hands worse,” I lied, knowing Niran likely wouldn’t drop it if I said it was nothing. “He needs time off.”
Niran shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll let Alfonzo know. I’m sure he won’t be upset about spending more time with Maksim anyway.” He threw his salad container in the trashcan, rinsed his fork, then dropped it into the dishwasher. “How much time does he need?”
“A week at minimum,” I said. “I’ll re-evaluate from there. One of you should probably put your foot down with him on no training. He’s not listening to me.”
Niran nodded. “Alfonzo will give him the orders.” He dipped his chin at me respectfully. “Have a good one, Dr. Allman.”
When he left the kitchen, I sagged back against the counter and took a moment to gather my bearings. Once I felt like I was standing on somewhat solid ground again, I quickly ate my lunch, then headed back to my office with a bottle of water in my hand.
Walking inside, I paused, blinking at the empty room. Drew was gone, and everything had been put away. He’d even straightened out the gurney, making it look untouched. I frowned, realizing—much to my utter dismay—that I was disappointed to find him no longer in my space.
Goddammit. He was already fucking me up.
Sighing, I nudged my door shut and dropped into my desk chair so I could type out an email to Niran, Alfonzo, and Rico, outlining Drew’s injuries and my recommended treatment plan.I might not be able to take care of Drew like he was mine, but I could do this, at the very least. And it would just have to be enough to sate me.
Because Icould notafford to get any closer to him, or I’d end up just as feral over him as Niran, Alfonzo, and Rico were over their husbands.
5
Drew
Istared at Alfonzo for a moment, trying to figure out if I’d heard him correctly. Had he really just fucking said what I thought he did? Clearly, my hearing was damaged. It had to be.
“Did you just say I was out of commission for aweek?” I demanded, not even caring that I was definitely speaking out of line to my superior. “Seven fucking days? No training, no bodyguarding. Just… nothing. For aweek?”
Alfonzo, though, didn’t get angry. He grewamused, the fucking bastard. His lips twitched, and his eyes lit up with laughter. “Yep,” he said, even popping the P because he was an asshole like that. “Doctor’s orders. Your hands need to heal.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, kind of your fault you’re in this predicament. I told you to make him disappear, not to beat him into a bloody pulp before you did it.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “If I’d just killed him and not made him suffer, you’d have my head on a fucking chopping block.”
“Other ways to make trash suffer than beating them to death with your fists,” he retorted. “Not my fault you’re a savage, Drew.” He jerked his chin toward Rico’s office door. Rico had silently been watching our exchange the entire time, and Niran, who was also in the room, was ignoring us, just playing on his phone and letting Alfonzo handle me. “You’re dismissed.”
I gritted my teeth, then stormed from the room. I might be on fucking leave for a minimum of a week, but that didn’t mean that was the end of any of this. Doc had some fucking explaining to do. He was ripping my entire routine to shreds, and I needed that routine. That fucking stability. Just whothe fuckdid he think he was, calling the shots like that and going behind my fucking back?
The door to Nicholas’s infirmary was shut, which was normal since it was just after five in the morning. Still, I opened it to make sure he wasn’t inside. Then, I stormed to the training room, but he wasn’t there either, and he wasn’t in the locker rooms. Which left one other place for him to be.
Home.
And I wasn’t afraid of crossing that boundary to get all this rage at him out of my fucking system.
Shoving out the back door of the house, I headed down the concrete pathway to his home on the backside of the property. He was just coming out the door when I drew near, wearing a pair of dark gray joggers and a long-sleeve shirt, his clothes for work in the small duffel at his side because that was whathe always did—a man of fucking routine. When he turned from shutting the door, his eyes widened, then grew wary.
“Drew—”
“Get. The fuck. Inside,” I snarled, pointing at his front door.
“No. What?—”
