Mate revealed

It's a small town

“What is she doing here?”

Ester cross her arms over chest, feigning confidence. However really trying to hide the hurt that had grown there.

“Shehas a name, and it’s NurseCrofts to you” Ester growled. The two men between them looked from her to Luca in bewilderment. “And if you’re not willing to go to the ER and don’t fancy Streptococcus,Staphylococcus, Pseudomonas infection or sepsis, I suggest you get yourself into the surgery now”

With that she turned and marched back into the building. She swiped his file from her desk and leafed through it quickly. Blood type O, no allergies, Tetanus booster 3 years ago. The pages of the file shook. Her hand trembled. The words before her jumbled.

Snap out of it, she begged. This is just a regular patient, nothing more.

It was if she could feelhim coming closer before she could hear him.

Helped by his two companions, he made it to the bench. They both stood to one side. Ester went behind it to the medical store. Glass vitals twinkled against each other as her fingertips brushed passed them.

She took a moment to survey his back. He was magnificent, as if sculped from marble; muscles bugled beneath his skin, power and strength coiling underneath the surface. Her heart drummed in her ears. Her palms had become clammy.

“Leave us” Luca quietly muttered to his two men. They swiftly existed.

Unlike his flawless stature, face and build however, he had scars patchworking across his back. Most old, some new. A few yellowing bruises sprinkled here and there. A timeline of abuse? Or a log of conquered fears?

Anger unfurl somewhere beneath Ester’s heart, like a bird spreading its wings for the first time. It's wings beat momentarily at her ribcage.

Who could do such a thing?

Without realising, she found herself reaching out, her gloved hand millimetres from his skin. He stilled, sensing she was near. He held his breath.

Mine…The voice purred. She pulled back. Not now, she cried inwardly.

Ester walked around to face him, slowly. His big dark eyes followed her every move, eating up everything his eyes would let him. A suspicious frown firmly fixed in place above those dark eyes.

“Ok, let’s have a look at that scratch” She whispered. He obeyed and leant back to show her his chest.

A scratch it was not. A large s***h had ripped around his right pectoral. It still looked fresh – but not as though it had just been sustained. The edges were clean, as if done by a knife. The blood had started to clot; it was healing. Still too deep to leave to heal by itself though.

He should have been in agony. But his expression was stoic, almost unconcerned.

“It’ll need stitches” She stated calmly “I’m not sure it’ll heal by itself. Will you let me stitch you up?” She asked, meeting his mahogany eyes. The air between them fizzed. “I’ll be quick”

He nodded his consent once.

Ester pulled up a chair and set aside her kit.

“I’ll need to give you some local aesthetic, is that ok?”

Quietly but firmly he murmured “No – no aesthetic” His voice was deep and rich. His lips generous.

A shiver ran down her back. Her pulse jumped again. She fought to hide her uneasiness.

“Ok, it might hurt a little though, but I’ll try my best to keep it quick”

She pulled her chair closer so she was almost between his legs, and lay her side of her palm against his chest. He flinched. His expression changed. Discomfort flickered, then the frown regained dominance over his features again. Controlled.

Even with gloves on, the warmth of his skin seeped into the heel of her hand, and she imagined it trickling down to her wrist, and then ebbing its way up her arm. Slowly dripping into her chest cavity, like honey.

“Ok,” She began cleaning the wound first. She leant her body towards him, her breath wafting across his chest, making the soft down across his top half quiver. He breathed in deeply.

Luca…the voice whispered, as if he would hear.

She started closing the wound.

This, he did not flinch at. He sat perfectly still for her, no whimper of anxiety or pain. She focused on the job of sewing and knotting. There was something so satisfying, the pulling together of flesh, fixing what had been separated, knowing that soon there would just be a pinkish ribbon where there once had been a split.

“How did you know my name?” He whispered. His breath gently swept across her face, disrupting loose strands of hair.

“Pardon?” That one word shook like a leaf. His eyes burnt into her flesh, his gaze unwavering as she continued to look at the task in hand.

“The file, you knew my name. How?”

“It’s a small town” She murmured back. If only he could hear her heart, she thought.

And that little voice inside Ester’s head gave her a chilling thought: He can…

Ester’s hand stilled. How could he? No. No, of course he couldn’t.

Yes, he can, and he can even smell that you’re tu-

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Not for the first time, worry was woven into his voice, his eyes still running over her face.

“Nothing” she whispered.

They continued in silence for a few more moments, heat coming off of him in waves, leaking into Ester’s own skin.

She was almost finished. “Why did you buy me the bike?”

He frowned, taken off guard. To Ester’s surprised he didn’t dodge it, “I think your old one had outlasted its purpose, don’t you?”

“Why care?” This time, her hands paused once more, as she looked up into his face. Full lips, a smattering of black stubble, strong cheekbones. Simply put he was beautiful. Difficult to look at because she wasn’t sure when she’d be able to look away again.

His eye’s bore into hers and the air began to hiss again, the hairs rising on the back of her neck. A tremor ran through her legs.

The sound of rain dappling the window pane took them both by surprise.

He looked away first. Only snatches of the moon, bloated and whole, were visible through a thick blanket of cloud.

Ester took a deep breath in.

“You almost hit my car. The next fall and you might’ve successfully dented it.”

Like a slap, Ester snapped her vision back to his wound. Spell broken.

“How did you know where I lived?” She asked on the last stitch.

“It’s a small town” he mumbled with a cold smile.

She rolled her eyes.

Ester sat back, assessing her work. It was a good job, she thought herself. No need to be modest. It had been far too long since she’d last gotten her hands on another person, but it was as if nothing had changed.

She stepped back, rolling off her gloves and felt immediately cooler away from his body. The distance cleared her head slightly. Ester searched the neat job she’d completed. She avoided his face this time.

“That needs to be kept dry for the next five days. No strenuous movement or exercise, nothing that will aggravate the stitches. I suggest resting for a few days if possible. Two weeks until the stitches need to come out. Pay me a visit in the next few days so I can check how it’s getting on, ok?”

He nodded slowly – Ester gathered that he probably wouldn’t be showing up anytime soon.

For a moment the only sound was the wind and rain, arguing amongst themselves outside.

Whilst he looked down, admiring her handiwork, she looked down at her hands, which begun to tremble once more.

And then slowly he reached out and encased both quivering hands in his.

Heat suddenly exploded between their skin.

Everywhere.

Goosebumps raised.

Her chest constricted.

Her head light.

As she’d imagined earlier, fervour raced down her wrist and up to her arm she couldn’t think.

She looked up into his face, he was also staring down at their intertwined fingers with a frown, his lips drawn in a tight line.

Something within her became restless.

Let me out… Please Ester.

Ester squeezed her eyes closed, shutting the voice away, imagining closing it behind a door. She opened to find their hands still touching.

But her hands had stopped shaking.

“I… I…” Why couldn’t she speak? Words dissolved on her tongue. All sense evaporated.

She should be shouting about consent, about her pepper spray. Not thinking about the rush of power she got from his skin, or from the beat of her heart, and the sound of his breathing.

“Thank you” He breathed.

He pulled away slowly and stood. His naked chest facing her.

What has been happening here? She closed her eyes for a moment. Was she going to faint? Eventually she responded with a nod.

She cleared away the swaps, implements and the paper from the bench, taking it to the sink. He opened the door to his men.

She paused, running her hand through her hair, “By the way – next time you touch me unconsentully, I will pepper spray you.” She saw him nod simply and sternly, and she turned back to the sink.

Their conversation stopped immediately as Ester joined the three of them in the Waiting Room.

“Remember, I need you to pop into the surgery over the next couple of days”

He nodded again.

“Good,” She slung her handbag over her shoulder “I need to lock up now guys” She jangled her keys to emphasise her point.

“Sam here is going to take you home.” He gestured to the second man, with a buzz cut, and a torn t-shirt, before walking outside.

“Umm, wait” Ester followed him out, greeted by rain “No, thank you, but I can get myself home”. She turned the key in the lock and protectively pulled Pegasus towards her.

“The weather is foul, if you think-”

“I’m from Britain, which is in a constant state of foul weather. I’ll be fine”

“Ester” He stepped closer, her back against the wall, and bit out each word “Take. The. Ride” He flashed a glance at Sam and the other man, who wisely looked away, finding something fascinating about the sidewalk. He returned to her gaze. “Please”

Ester gulped.

“Please” Repeated, no louder than a breath. His eyes wide.

She nodded. His shoulders sagged slightly, his face relaxed. “Thank you” He backed away, eyes still trained on her for a moment longer, before getting into his car – his driver already inside. “Good night Ester”. The car screeched away before Ester could respond.

Ester stared at the stop his car had been for a moment.

“I’ll take that Nurse Crofts” Sam lifted the bike away from her, stowing it in the back of his truck.

“Call me Ester”.

The drive back was quiet. The windscreen wipers squawking, and the rain persisted. Sam drove carefully, heavy mental playing out on a quiet setting.

“Thank you for driving me”

“Just doing my job” He smiled gently.

No time like the present, Ester thought. “If you don’t mind me asking, what is your job?”

His eyes fluttered to her for a moment before looking back on the blackened road, as if he was pondering the answer thoughtfully. Ester noticed a tattoo crept out of the collar of this shirt.

“I work for Luca” was all he said.

“And what is it he does?”

The trees began to fill in the open spaces either side of the car, telling Ester that she was almost home. Ghostly shadows danced in front of the car headlights.

“He is a successful businessman.”

They pulled up outside of her lodge. The clouds now receding, revealing the silver coin surface of the moon.

As she closed the front door behind her, Ester could've sworn she heard a howl from outside.