?I’d be grouchy too if I just crashed into a brick wall. Let me check you out, madam. It will only take a moment.”
Lila shook her head. “I wasn’t going that fast. I’m okay.”
“You were going fast enough.” Tristan tried to gently pry Lila’s fingers off his neck. “Let the doctor check you out.”
Lila hid her face and refused to face the doctor. She’d only met him when she had a hood on. She didn’t know if he could be trusted.
“I know your voice well, Hood. The others have returned to the truck, and none of them can see you. Let me assure you, I may be a lot of things, but I’ve never broken the confidentiality of my patients. I’m not about to start now.”
“It’s either him, or I’m taking you to Randolph General whether you want to go or not,” Tristan vowed.
At that, Lila finally let go. She had no intention of spending the day in the emergency room while scores of doctors ordered unnecessary tests because their boss had been brought in. Nor did she relish the thought of her mother finding out she’d wrecked her bike.
Again.
As she turned around, she came face to face with the older man, dressed in the garb of a workborn, his hair carefully styled. His work boots had been polished to a shine befitting a highborn, and a stethoscope peeked out from under his green tartan scarf.
The doctor’s eyes did not light up when they looked at one another. If he recognized her, he covered it well.
When Lila did not speak, Doc took it as permission. After helping her out of her jacket, he pressed the stethoscope into her chest and checked her breathing. He noted her pulse, tracked her eyes with a light that popped out of his thumb ring, and squeezed her hands.
Lila yelped at that, and he removed her gloves. One hand had turned angry and pink across the back.
“It’s not swollen. That’s a very good sign,” he said calmly, marveling at the crisscross of scratches across her palms.
“That happened a few weeks ago,” Lila said, pulling her hand away. “I’m fine. A rearview mirror just bounced off it. I’ve broken bones before, and this isn’t broken.”
“Bet it smarts, though.” Doc grinned slightly. “Do you feel cold, or at least colder than you should?”
Lila shook her head.
“Does anything hurt?”
“No.”
“Her belly,” Tristan answered for her.
Lila’s hand shot out and held the doctor back. “It’s something else entirely. I’m fine, really.”
The doctor nodded. “You’ll likely be sore tomorrow, but if anything changes, you go to the emergency room immediately. Sometimes it takes a few hours for the shock to wear off, then people realize they were hurt worse than they thought.”
Lila nodded.
“I think she’ll be fine,” Doc explained to Tristan before getting to his feet with a grunt. He whipped the stethoscope over his head, hid it under his scarf, and marched back to the truck.
Tristan’s people drove away with her Firefly, and Lila realized that she didn’t care where it might end up.
“Is he even a doctor?”
“He was once, and a damn fine one at that. The drink took him. Sometimes people won’t let you come back after so many mistakes.”
“Did you?”
Tristan nodded. “Doc’s sober now, and he helped me once when I needed it. I gave him a job. Now he patches up my people.”
“I’m not your people.”
“Now you’ve become ornery.” He rose and helped Lila to her feet, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. “It’s a shame, you know. That was an expensive bike.”