It feels good to hold her hand.
I guide her inside and through the facility. There’s a peacefulness about the place that only comes by being here at night or first thing in the morning. The lights are bright, the floors clean, and the air is faintly scented with disinfectants and rubber mats. It’s a controlled environment, but to me, it’s home away from home.
Jamal is near the supply room, loading something into a cart. He looks up the second he hears our footsteps. “What did you break now, Shep?” he asks, then his eyes flick beside me to Sutton and the bloody towel in her hand. My stomach knots. “Oh. Who’s this?”
“Jamal this is Sutton. She’s had an accident I was hoping you could look at.” My voice sounds steadier than I feel. The sight of her blood makes my chest tight, like someone’s squeezing my ribs together. I hate that I can’t magically fix this for her and take her pain away.
In any other situation, Jamal would probably give me a questioning glance and ask me what the fuck I’m doing bringing someone in here for medical treatment. But this time it’s like he’s reading my mind as I beg him not to ask questions.
Beside me, Sutton’s spine stiffens. I can feel her fear radiating between us, and it takes everything in me not to pull her closer. Jamal steps forward with that calm, competent energy trainers are born with. “Hey Sutton,” he says, his voice soft and easy. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jamal. I’m one of the team physicians. Can I take a look?”
Sutton swallows back her nerves and then she nods and says, “Yes, please.” Her vulnerability slices through me. I’venever heard her sound so small, and it awakens something fierce and protective in my chest. Jamal gestures toward one of the exam rooms. Sutton steps inside, her gaze flitting around the room. She pauses, and when she arches a brow in my direction, I recognize the panic in her eyes.
I huff a soft laugh to ease her worry. “Yeah, okay. It may be more of an athletic training bay than a clinic, but it’s got everything Jamal needs to handle a mess.” I keep my hand at the small of her back, not pushing, but needing the connection as much as she might. My heart pounds with how much I want to keep her safe. “You’re okay,” I murmur. “I promise.”
Her breath shudders. “I know.”
She’s lying.
I can see it all over her face.
But she goes along with it anyway.
Jamal pulls latex gloves on with a snap that echoes in the small room as Sutton perches on the edge of the exam table. Her shoulders are squared, her spine a perfect line of tension.
“Alright, Sutton, I’m going to unwrap this and see what we’ve got going on. I’m sorry, it might sting a little.”
Sutton lifts her chin like she’s about to stare down a firing squad, her jaw muscle pulsing beneath pale skin. “It’s fine.” Her voice is steady, but I notice her good hand gripping the edge of the table until her knuckles turn white.
Part of me wants to reach for that hand.
Part of me thinks she’d hate me for it.
Jamal’s mouth twitches. “You know, it’s funny, I think I’ve heard that exact sentence from every tough guy who’s ever limped into this facility.” He glances up at Sutton who isn’t smiling, her eyes fixed on some invisible point on the wall. “Somehow though, I think you might be tougher than all of them.”
I know she is.
But I hate that she has to be.
He unwraps the towel with delicate precision. The fabric peels away, revealing a gash that splits her palm like a fault line, deep and jagged, with edges angry and red against her pale skin. I want to look away but can’t, caught between the need to protect her and the knowledge that she’d despise me for it.
Sutton doesn’t flinch.
Not outwardly anyway.
But her breathing changes, shallow and fast, her nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly. I recognize it instantly. Pain held hostage behind stubbornness…the same way she holds everything else.
Jamal nods. “Yeah. That’s going to need stitches.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, sharp with humiliation, like she’s waiting for me to say “I told you so” but I don’t.
Jamal glances between us like he’s reading a scoreboard. “You two dating?”
Honestly, I’m not sure what we are. Are we dating? Are we not dating? She kissed me but she told me it didn’t mean anything. I kissed her not too many minutes ago in the bar parking lot, but it was really more to calm her down than anything romantic. Not that I didn’t enjoy pressing my lips to hers. The ache spreading through me now tells a different story though.
Selfishly, I hesitate to answer Jamal hoping beyond all measure that Sutton will answer with a resounding yes, or even just a slight head nod, but she doesn’t. The silence stretches between us, heavy with possibility. She inhales sharply, her cheeks flushing pink, and something in me crumbles at the panic in her eyes.
“No,” I say finally, the word like gravel in my throat.
