~CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWO~
“When I was working at the club, I had to step in a few times,” I say. “Men would get into situations they couldn't bring to a hospital, and I was the only one who knew how to patch them up. My grandmother was a retired doctor; she made sure I knew my way around a wound before I could even drive.”
I lean in and press a kiss to his lips—soft, quick, and light, before pulling back to meet his gaze. “You can’t take a bath, but I’m going to clean you up,” I tell him, my voice leaving no room for debate. “Sit.”
To my surprise, he simply raises his hands in a silent gesture of surrender and sits back without a single word of argument. I move with a practiced efficiency, clearing away the bloodied tools and disposal materials as if this were a normal occurrence, a
