Ryan drove me there. I arrived right on time and pressed the bell at Brian's private clinic door.
In the waiting area, Ryan sat with his legs crossed, scrolling on his phone. "Just cooperate with the treatment," he said without looking up. "Don't give my dad any trouble."
Brian opened the door in a white coat and mask. His eyes passed over Ryan without a pause. "Wendy, come in."
The door clicked shut behind me and locked. Brian grabbed my wrist and pulled me straight into his arms.
"He's right outside," I said.
"I know." His hand slid from my lower back down to my thigh. He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. "This place is soundproof. He can't hear anything."
Brian stepped back, sat on the desk, and pulled me closer. "You know what comes next, don't you?"
I looked at him. "Didn't you say it was to gather evidence?"
"That can wait." He pressed a hand against my chest. "Right now, it's treatment time. Your husband has paid. I have to do my job."
His fingers caught my shirt button and popped it open. "What are you scared of?"
I opened my mouth but nothing came out.
"How long does she need treatment?" Ryan's voice drifted in from the hallway.
My whole body went rigid. Brian didn't stop. His lips burned against my collarbone. He bit down lightly on the skin and pressed against it.
I gasped, then bit my hand to hold it back.
Only then did Brian straighten and turn toward the door. "Hard to say. The damage is serious. It needs deep stimulation."
"She's all yours, Dad," Ryan said. Then his footsteps faded down the hall.
Brian slipped an arm under my waist and lifted me onto the exam bed. "Put your legs up."
He knew a woman's body too well. Every movement of his broke down my control with precision. My body went soft and numb, floating in a haze, losing all sense of time.