The Consequence of Revenge (Consequence 2)

I coughed and mumbled, “Course not,” while a chorus of praise rang from the group. “Reid, you look great! After all you’ve been through! Is that a six pack?” I elbowed Milo, who was laying it on a bit thick.

“Whew!” Reid nodded. “Good, because I totally can’t feel my legs right now.”

“Bad sign?” I mouthed to Colton.

He shrugged as the nurse walked back in with a doctor.

“Well, damn.” The doctor examined the spot where the needle had gone into hiding and then slapped Reid’s ass.

I coughed to cover my laugh.

But then the doctor slapped Reid’s ass again.

And I lost it.

Hey, I got a prostate exam! It’s not like it’s all been flowers and rainbows for me either!

Jason sent me a seething glare as he fought to hide his smile. Reid moaned. The doctor slapped again.

It was like a really poorly made porno, like one you’d show kids in order to get them not to watch porn. All you’d have to do would be to say, “And this is what happens when you watch naked people . . .”

You puke, get gas, and have a hot nurse watch while an elderly doctor slaps your ass in order to locate the needle that broke under your skin.

“Aw, there it is.” The doctor smiled.

“He found your balls, Reid! Yay!” I joked.

Reid showed me the finger.

“Probably a bad time to do that . . .” Jason commented.

“Now, I’m going to squeeze a bit.” The doctor’s gaze was focused on Reid’s whiteness as he pinched.

“Ouch!” Reid wailed. “That hurts!”

“Stop moving!” The doctor swore. “I’m almost there.”

“Please don’t say those words to me.” Reid shook. “Please don’t say those words!” He was full-on begging.

“Aghhhhh!” the doctor yelled as he pulled out the needle that had embedded itself in Reid’s skin.

At some point Colt had covered Milo’s eyes and Jason had covered Reid’s, not that Reid could actually see his own ass, but I think it was the principle of the matter.

“Now”—the doctor clapped his hands together—“you’ll have to lie on your stomach for a bit while the nice nurse gives you an IV. I’ll come back in to check on you later. Are you going to be okay, son?”

“Go.” Reid’s voice shook. “You’ve done enough, just go.”

The doctor chuckled and walked out of the room while I whispered under my breath, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

I received a smack from Colton for that one.

Two hours later, when Reid had finally fallen into a fitful sleep and I was contemplating sneaking out, my e-mail alert went off.

I checked the message and felt the color drain from my face.

“Records clean! Pack your bags, your flight leaves tomorrow.”

“Well, hell,” I muttered.

“What?” Jason yawned. His jaw was starting to turn yellow from the punch he’d received.

“I don’t have herpes. Damn it.”

“And you wanted them because?”

“Now I have to go on the show!” I swore and almost threw my phone. “Hey, we’re at a hospital, so there has to be some sort of curable disease I can catch by tomorrow, right?”

Jason shrugged. “There’s always the gummy bears.”

“Dun-dun-dun . . .” Reid sang from his bed, lifting his arms into the air like he was directing an orchestra. “I still taste them. It’s the red bears that are the worst, they have more bark to their bite than the green ones. Holy shit! Am I going to hate Christmas now? Because of all the red and green?”

“Go to sleep, Reid.” I rolled my eyes.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MAX

Reid was out of the hospital, but because of the number those devil bears had done on his digestive tract, the nice doctor—you know, the one who needled him—said he wanted to do a checkup in a few days.

I instructed Reid to wear a cup just in case the doctor got too friendly.

Reid did not laugh. Instead he’s been wallowing in his apartment ever since.

At this point I was a bit concerned for Reid’s mental health. I mean, when you lose your sense of humor, what do you have left? But Jason assured me that while I was on the Island—ugh, I still shuddered thinking about it—they would keep an eye on Reid.

“Do you have everything you need?” Milo asked for the third time while I pulled my bags out of the car.

“Yes, Mom.”

“Toothpaste?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Advil, just in case?”

“Yes.”

“Condoms?” Jason coughed.

“There will be no sex!” I yelled, gaining unwanted attention from a nice elderly lady who had a patch over her left eye and a permanent smile on her face. Mighty Max quivered in fear.

“Sure there won’t.” Jason rolled his eyes. “How about a bet?”

My ears perked up. “What kind of bet?”

“You fall prey to your carnal nature,” Jason tapped his chin, “and you suck it up and finally start looking for a job away from your family’s dynasty and drop the whole poor-me act you’ve got going on.”

“I have direction!” I seethed. “I just . . . need more time!”

“Sure.” Jason chuckled. “But hey, if you can’t handle it, then—”