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Present TORIN’S DOCTOR WAS A MIDDLE-AGED MAN WHO LOOKED LIKE HE’D BEEN A heavyweight champ in a previous life. He was solid with mature muscle and easily six-five if he was an inch, and he moved with the carefree ease of a man of that stature—a man who rarely met with any challengers. “That’s a nasty shiner you’re wearin’ there, Miss Lawson.” The man spoke with a breezy Caribbean accent that complemented his laid-back demeanor, though the disapproving look he shot at Torin wasn’t so casual. “You look at me like that again, and I’ll give you one to match.” Tor pointed at the man who was his senior in both age and stature. “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but I didn’t lay a finger on her. Not sure what would make you think otherwise.” He muttered the last part, giving me the se
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