Rogue Wolf - Pure Silver series

Moon Fifteen

Moon Fifteen

After a night of having my hand in a bucket of ice my old man made me see a doctor which to my chagrin, I reluctantly did.

It was humiliating sitting in the waiting room, my hand was now purple and swollen almost the size of a baseball mitt, two noisy kids asking their mum loudly what was wrong with me!

“Mum, what happened to his hand?” A boy with a runny nose asked.

“Mum is he going to die?” Was what his older sister asked who appeared to be the case. She had her hand stuck in a kettle up to her wrist; their mum sighed embarrassed by her kids’ response and smiled at me as her apology. I nodded, my old man not making any response as he slumped in his chair, bored.

When it was their turn I growled under my breath at the children as they walked past. Their response was to cling closer to their mum’s legs trembling slightly. This got me a slap across the head.

“What?” I demanded to my old man, “The brats were being nosy!”

“You know what could happen if you attract too much attention,” he scolded me, leaning back in his chair. He lit a cigarette, he barely smoked.

“Now who’s being the hypocrite?” I asked annoyed. He looked as if he was about to hit me again but a nurse called my name.

“Cole Kenward?” She asked holding a clip board and pen. I lifted my head to her.

“Doctor Lenny will see you now,” she told me, I nodded, turned to my old man and he grunted. I sighed and stood up going past her to the ward.

“Please refrain from smoking in here Mr Kenward,” I heard the nurse tell him, I grinned happily to myself. Karma did exist.

*********************

The doctor was flabbergasted at how I’d managed to break all my fingers on the one hand. It was hard to come up with a lie that would make any sense.

In the end I just said my motorbike had fallen on it while I was repairing some of the cables to the battery. He had raised his eyebrows at me, but didn’t accuse me of lying.

And he was not gentle! He set every dislocated bone back in place while he strapped all the broken ones, seeming to ignore my clenched teeth and slight winces as he did this. Damn he was rough!

Once he’d done this he gave me a painkiller, (after I’d endured all that agony) as well as bandaged my hand as to help it heal; which it would do after I spent a day of good hunting and few transformations.

As he filled out the fee he asked midway, “did you know a certain young lady by any chance?” I was stopped short.

“Which out of the hundreds of young ladies are you talking about?” I asked, trying to bend my fingers with no success.

“She’s been my patient before,” he paused tapping on his desk. Then behind his dark frames his eyes lit up for a second.

“Lunetta Welles I think,” he answered determined. I was overcome by silence. My face seemed to grow grim and I looked away, leaning forward slightly in my chair while he continued to fill the paper out.

“Ah yes, it was Lunetta,” he sounded certain; “I visited her once, my first house call that month.” I had to stare at him. He coincidentally looked up too. I immediately went downcast. 

“Poor girl, she’d had a mental breakdown and had passed out,” he began again, his chair squeaked as he moved somewhere accompanied with a mouse click.