Mine (Camila G!P)

Chapter 1

Camila

The man on the operating table moaned softly and stirred, his eyes still closed. A blue plastic cap covered his hair and a blue plastic sheet covered his body. The only things exposed were his face and his chest, straps holding him steady.

“He’s almost awake,” Austin said. He was standing on the other side of the operating room table.

“Hand me that hypodermic, would you?”

Austin leaned over and gave me the needle. I inserted it into the man’s IV on his wrist. Now that he was strapped down nicely to the table, a gag in his mouth, I could bring him out of the anesthesia cleanly.

It was early morning, and the operating room was dim, the way I liked it. Light jazz floated through the room from the stereo system. Mood music for murder.

As the stimulant ran into the man’s veins, his eyes opened. He looked at me, then tried to move his arm. Of course, he couldn’t.

“What kind of straps are those?” Austin asked.

“Standard nylon,” I said. “I get them from the medical supply wholesaler online.”

“Hmm. Not leather?”

“You know, I used to do leather. It’s hard to get the blood out, though.”

“Right. I forget that you get them here when they’re still conscious.”

The man’s eyes flashed back and forth between me and Austin, questioning. I could see the fear beginning to come through on his face. He knew that this wasn’t normal operating procedure for plastic surgery. He opened his mouth to talk, and I tamped the gag down a bit farther into his mouth.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “This is just a friend of mine. He’s going to be here for the surgery. I hope you don’t mind.”

The man frowned and yelled something through the gag.

“Sorry, Brad. I can’t hear you.”

“Is his name Brad?” Austin asked.

“Who cares? He’ll be dead in a few minutes.”

Brad shrieked behind the fabric. I turned back to Austin.

“The nylon straps. I can hook you up with some if you need. If you decide to get back in the business.”

Austin sighed and looked down at the man on the table. Brad was trying very hard to talk now, but the gag in his mouth made it awfully difficult. If I had to guess by the look on his face, I’d say he was pleading.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he said. “But really, I’m quitting for good this time.”

“Quitting for a girl? Say it ain’t so, Dorito. For a girl?”

“You don’t know the girl,” he said, smiling. He held out a scalpel, the largest one, for the initial cut.

“Want to do the honors?” I asked.

Austin looked down at Brad, who by this time had realized that he was not going to be getting the kind of customer service that men of his status normally got when getting plastic surgery. His muffled yelling rose even louder from behind the gag. I picked up the stereo remote and turned up the volume on the jazz. A low horn sang a dissonant melody under the steady beat of the drums.