Page 30 of Street

“You’ve already figured out that was a terrible decision, so I won’t dwell on that.” Razor turned his head to tell Street, “They make cut-resistant gloves with Kevlar. Check into those. Or nitrile-coated work gloves.”

“Will do. Thanks, Razor.” Street pulled out his phone and made a note.

Razor focused on his patient. “I need to clean these cuts. Small shreds of plastic are embedded in them. This isn’t going to feel good. Can I give you something for the pain before I start?”

“Will the medicine make me woozy? I like to stay clear-headed,” Rosa told him.

“Admirable, but this is going to be tough to handle. The painkiller might make you a bit light-headed, but I’ll give you a small amount because you’re petite. Street will be here to take care of you.”

Street loved that she didn’t look at him for confirmation but accepted Razor’s statement as the truth. His Little girl trusted him to help her.

Rosa studied Razor’s face to determine if she could trust him. Street had relaxed when he’d seen the doctor. Her Daddy had confidence in him. That reassured Rosa. “Thank you. My hand already hurts. If cleaning the blisters will increase the discomfort, I’d love some relief.”

“Good choice. Step up on the scale so I can calculate the right dosage.”

Immediately, she shook her head. “I don’t need the medicine then.”

“Rosa, I’ve picked you up. I know how much you weigh.” Street lifted her from the table and set her down on the scale. Razor quickly adjusted the levers at the top. When he nodded to Street, he returned her to the table.

Street patted her back and reassured her. “That wasn’t too embarrassing, was it?”

Rosa nodded, not meeting his eyes. His hand cupped her chin and raised her face until their gazes met. “No secrets between a Daddy and his Little. I weigh 175.”

“Your weight is low, Rosa. Street, make sure to offer her a variety of nutritious foods. Even five to ten pounds more would give her some reserves if she becomes ill.”

“Will do.”

While Razor gathered his supplies, Street kissed the top of her hair and shared, “Razor doesn’t believe in discomfort for Little girls. Everyone has a different pain tolerance.”

When she opened her mouth to assure him she was tough, Street continued, “Even though I have no doubt you’re a warrior, Dinorosa, there’s no need to suffer. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

His promise squelched her protest. She whispered, “Thanks,” as she kept her eyes on Razor, who drew up a shot for her. “I don’t like shots.”

“No one likes injections, Rosa,” Razor told her. “You wouldn’t believe who was scared of a needle.”

“Not Da… Street,” Rosa corrected herself.

“Not your Daddy for sure. He’s a tough guy,” Razor agreed. “Street, help by pulling down her pants. This goes in her bottom.”

“No way. I’ve changed my mind,” Rosa said, crossing her arms defiantly. Unfortunately, she whacked her hand on her other arm. Instantly, tears sprang into her eyes. “Damn it!”

“Up you go, Dinorosa,” Street said, boosting her to her feet. He quickly unfastened her jeans and pushed them over her hips. “Leggings are coming today, Little girl. Those will be more comfortable to wear.”

“I don’t want a shot,” she hissed at Street.

“I know,” he said gently as he turned her around to face the table. “Rest your arms on the cushion, Rosa.”

She reached out to push herself away from him and yelped as her hand hit his chest. Freezing as the jolt of pain lanced through her, Rosa couldn’t deny she needed help. Street didn’t say a word but rubbed her back in sympathy. Slowly, she leaned over. Street tugged down her panties, and Razor swabbed an area with a cold pad before tapping a spot at the side of her hip as he efficiently injected her. Distracted from the needle’s impact, Rosa barely felt anything.

“That wasn’t bad,” Rosa whispered.

“Causing pain isn’t a personal goal of mine, Rosa. I’ll always try to make treatment better. Let your Daddy help you dress.”

Street restored her clothing and settled Rosa on the table. She was amazed that he acted like helping her was ordinary—something normal for him to do. He wrapped an arm around her as Razor filled a basin with water and added something from a bottle that tinted the liquid a dark orange color. The doctor placed the container on a small rolling tray and scooted it close to her injury.

“Set your hand in here. The mixture may sting your skin momentarily, but the discomfort will vanish quickly,” Razor said.

Street tightened his arm around her waist as she weaved a bit. “I’ve got you, Dinorosa.”