Heath met me in the waiting room, a healing bruise and a claw mark running across his left cheek.
I raised my brow at a stain on his chest beneath his leather jacket. "Did you get that looked at?" I asked; even concealed by his navy blue shirt; I could tell it was nasty.
He shrugged, making me roll my eyes and grab his hand, pulling him to an empty examining room and drawing the blinds. "On the bed, shirt off."
He chuckled at me, throwing himself into the bed and did as I said while I pulled on gloves, sorted a cleaning tray and kicked a stool between his legs.
"My little healer," he cooed at me, smirking as I sat down and scooted forward.
I chuckled. "The Goddess knew it was the only way," I began cleaning, seeing the damage below and sighed. "This needs stitches until tomorrow."
