Chapter 82
And Gabrielle would be arriving the next day.
Gabrielle would make a scene if Claude couldn't cover for me, which might drag Kate into this mess. So, to avoid involving Kate, he told Neil to bring me food, got me stuff, and even gave me a credit card with no limit to get me to reconsider and come home. It turned out that if you were a pushover in your past life, you were bound to be one in this life, too.Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.
Walking down the street, I glanced at my hand, noticing the slight blistering. The soup Kate made was scalding, but fortunately, I only got a slight burn, managing to dodge the rest. It wasn't too serious. Just a few blisters that were a bit of an eyesore.
Before I knew it, I was back at the hospital, headed to the treatment room to get the blisters taken care of. Pushing the door open, I heard a sharp, "Who's there?"
I looked up to see a tanned back, muscles tense and exposed.
Ronald was squatting next to Max, working on his left side. He chilled out when he saw me and said, "Oh, it's your student. Ms. Floyd, can you shut the door, please?"
I shut the door and hid my hands behind my back. My eyes drifted to Max's left side. The wound was deep, soaked in blood, making me want to cry at the sight. "What happened to Dr. Hilton?"
"It's my fault. We were having dinner, and when I spotted a suspect, I went after him without thinking. Max got stabbed trying to save me." As Ronald prepared to disinfect and stitch up Max's wound, I took the surgical needle from him. "Let me do it," I said, unpacking a set of gloves.
Slipping them on, I winced as the burn stung, but I got the gloves on despite the pain.
"What happened to your hand?" Max's face was pale from blood loss, a grimace of discomfort visible.
"Nothing, just a minor burn." I said, picking up the anesthetic, "It won't be enough to numb the area properly. It's going to hurt. We need more."
I examined Max's wound, deep but thankfully not damaging any internal organs. His regular workouts had paid off, the muscles absorbing most of the blow, resulting in a severe but not life-threatening injury.
I sighed in relief. Even so, the pain must have been intense, yet Max remained stoically silent.
As time passed, and the additional anesthetic didn't arrive, I turned to Ronald and asked, "Why haven't you fetched more anesthetic?"
Ronald sheepishly scratched his head. "The anesthetic needs to be logged. Max said what we have is enough. He doesn't want anyone knowing he's hurt."
"But..." It was going to hurt.
Before I could finish, Max's low but encouraging voice cut through, "It's fine. Let's proceed."
As I stitched Max up, I watched his expression closely. Sweat beaded
on his forehead, dripping to
his collarbones, yet he bit down, not uttering a sound of pain.
"That damn Scar Man! Once I catch him, I'll ensure he never sees the outside of a cell again!"
Visibly upset by the scene, Ronald punched the wall in anger.
Scar Man? They were chasing Scar Man! Scar Man had kidnapped me in my past life! Could it be the same person? Scar Man violated me, hurt me, killed my child, and broke my finger.
A wave of pain seemed to ignite all over my body in an instant.
Uncontrollably trembling, my hands stopped in their tracks,
Max's voice was soft but immensely motivating, piercing through my soul. "If you really want to be a doctor, no matter what anyone says or what goes on, the minute you pick up that scalapel, that's all you are - a doctor."
He lifted his hand, grasping mine, guiding it as we stitched the wound together, one thread at a time.