Break the Rules (Rough Love Book 7) by Leighton Greene & L J Greene

Author:Leighton Greene & L J Greene [Greene, Leighton]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2019-10-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

“It’s Benjamin, isn’t it?” the Doctor says to him. “Or do you prefer Ben?”

Ben wants to reply, but his words get caught up around his tongue, and he can only look with mute pleading at her.

“Benjamin,” she says. “Please come with me.”

He follows her silently down the hallway. Once they enter her office—as restrained and elegant as she is: a few burgundy tones, a Persian rug, the nameplate on the door reading only Dr Dubois—he finds his voice again. “I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“Don’t even give it another thought. I had some very dull patients this afternoon. You’ve given me the perfect excuse.” Her accent is clipped, faintly European.

“Thank you.”

He follows her through the office and into the examination room, starting to wonder what in the hell he’s doing. But he obediently sits on the gurney and takes off his shirt.

“Was this consensual?” she asks, touching her fingers lightly to his face. Ben shrugs. Then it hits him—for some of her patients, this kind of thing is consensual.

“I guess not.”

“Do you have other injuries?”

“Just my back. He hit me there. He didn’t…I mean, you know. I ran before anything else happened.”

She nods. “Who did this to you, please?”

“It wasn’t—it’s not…Not him.”

“Of course not. He would never do anything like this.”

“That’s what I kept telling him,” Ben says before thinking.

The Doctor looks into his eyes, and Ben feels like he’d never be able to hide anything from her, even his most shameful and terrible secrets and desires.

“I’d like a name, if you are willing to tell me,” she asks gently.

“Why? I don’t want to press charges or anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m the fool who went. Went into his house, even though I knew something could happen. And I kind of provoked him. I deserved it.”

She looks sternly at him. “Benjamin, you did not deserve any of this. What has been done to you was done without your consent. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

“Yes,” he sighs. “Alright. It wasn’t my fault.” He looks at her, so calm and unflinching and beautiful, and all he can think of is Keats.

I saw pale kings, and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;

Who cry’d—’La belle Dame sans merci

Hath thee in thrall!’

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