“Isolde.”
I blink up at Tristan. His arms are crossed, one brow lifted.Remember my warning?
When I look back at Tyler, I swear there’s a slightly amused smile on his face.
“You’ve got it with you?” Tristan asks the doctor.
“I came with everything.” Tyler digs around in his bag, using one hand to hold up my shirt. He was like that at the bar, too. Always doing multiple things at once. “I basically brought enough stuff to do surgery. You made it sound a lot worse than it is.”
My eyes snap back to Tristan.See.
The stern expression doesn’t leave his face. “If you thought you’d need to perform surgery, then why did it take you so long to get here?”
“Some of us do have actual jobs now.”
Tristan holds his hands out wide, glancing around my apartment. “I’ve got a job too. My client could be dead right now, that’s how long it took you to get here.”
Tyler glances over his shoulder. The contestants onLove Islandare participating in a kissing contest.
Tristan’s lips form a thin line. He crosses his arms and takes a step back, but just one. This is as much patient-doctor confidentiality as he’s willing to give us. At least until Tyler’s next words.
“There’s some dried blood. Gunshot grazes don’t always bleed that bad but that doesn’t seem to be the case here.”
“What?” Tristan’s fingers curl into my hoodie, pulling it up higher.
Tyler shoves him away, his eyes never leaving my face. I refuse to meet his gaze, though.
I’m not sure what the doctor wants me to say. The urge to curl up in bed gets stronger with every minute.
“I’ll help clean it off.” He’s already picked up abottle of alcohol. “There might have been some blood, but the good news is it does seem really superficial. It’ll be sore thanks to where it hit. Keep the bandage clean. Hopefully, with the tetanus shot nothing will get infected. You okay?”
“Will it be okay to shower?”
It takes him a minute to respond, his eyes scanning over me. “Yeah. I’ll leave extra bandages. Change them out frequently. I’ll assume, since I know what you do for a living, you understand how important it is, cutting down the chances of an infection.”
I nod. I’ve never suffered a serious injury while on the job, but it’s safe to say most people in my line of work avoid the hospitals.
“You ever thought about making extra money?” I ask. “Offering your medical services to people?”
By people, I mean triggermen like me. It’s not uncommon for groups to have doctors on standby. The Bratva has a full hospital at their disposal, probably.
Tyler smiles lightly, but I wonder if I’ve offended him. Nancy Mulligan’s son knows a lot of people in this city. But he’s always kept to himself despite taking the occasional contract.
“I like my hospital,” he says, and I can picture it. He’s good at putting people at ease. If he didn’t want to work in the emergency room, he’d be great with the kids in pediatrics.
I lower my shirt, my lungs expanding. My ribcage remains tight, though.
“Thanks,” I tell him after he’s given me a tetanus shot. “What do I owe you?”
His smirk is directed at Tristan. “Nah, the bill is on his tab.”
But that’s not quite true, and we both know it.
Tristan is being paid to be here.
“Thanks.” He claps Tyler’s shoulder, and I notice hisshoulders aren’t as tight. Like Tyler’s set his mind at ease. I kept telling him I was fine. He didn’t need to hear it from a doctor.
Tyler hugs him, but his eyes land on me. “Text me when you need to complain.”