Chapter 19

"Is it going to hurt?" Grace asked two hours later as she sat nervously on the doctor's table, listening to what removing the tattoo and chip was going to entail.

"No. You have two options. I can use anesthesia so that you're completely asleep. It would be over when you woke up. Or I could use a local to numb the area."

Grace squeezed Khai's hand, trying not to be a big baby about this. "I hate the idea of being put to sleep."

The doctor smiled. "Then it's just a question of what you hate more—being put to sleep or enduring my nurse holding your leg steady while I remove it. I promise to make sure it's completely numb, but a lot of people can't stomach the idea of having something cut so close to their private parts. It can be nerve-wracking. You'll have to be naked from the waist down."

Grace chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before nodding. "Do it that way. At this point, modesty has left the building. I'd rather be awake."

"You sure, love?" Khai asked.

"Yeah." She turned back to the doctor. "Can Khai stay with me?"

"Yes. He can help hold you steady if you like. The reason I need to be sure you don't move is because I'm going to have a scalpel in my hand. If you jerked every time you felt pressure, you'd end up sliced somewhere you didn't want to be opened up."

"I'm trained to remain very still while people hold me down," she muttered sarcastically.

The doctor patted her hand. "I'm so sorry."

"The worst was the day I was given this tattoo. I didn't even know what they were doing to me. No one told me anything. They blindfolded me, held me down, and went to work." Why am I oversharing with this poor surgeon?

The woman was very kind and patient. She nodded, brows furrowed. "I've been filled in on that. I'm so terribly sorry. I can't imagine how horrifying that was."

Grace sighed. "At least I'll know what you're doing."

"I'd rather you lie back and keep your gaze anywhere but on what I'm doing."

"Okay."

The doctor turned toward Khai. "Are you squeamish?"

Khai smirked. "I served three combat tours. I've seen everything, including my own mangled leg, after I was pulled out from under a Humvee. I'll be fine."

The doctor nodded. "Thank you for your service. I'll warn you, for a lot of people it's easier to have their own arm amputated, awake without anesthesia, than to watch someone they love endure so much as the removal of a splinter."

Khai nodded. "I get that."

"Okay. Let's do it. I'll step out for a minute and arrange for a few nurses to help. Remove everything from the waist down." She pointed toward a folded paper behind Grace. "You can use that glamorous oversized, expensive napkin to cover yourself. I'll do my best to keep you from being exposed to everyone in the room."

Grace drew in a deep breath. "Thank you."

"You sure about this?" Khai asked as soon as the doctor shut the door.

"Yes. I know it might seem strange to you, but I really hate the idea of anesthesia. I had to get it once as a teenager when I had my tonsils out, and it made me vomit for two days. The fear of that happening is worse than just enduring the surgery and being awake."

"Okay, love." He helped her down from the table so she could remove her shoes, socks, jeans, and panties. Like the kind gentleman he was, he lifted her back up onto the table and spread what was truly nothing more than a large paper towel over her.

A few minutes later, the doctor returned with two female nurses. That part was a relief as well. Enduring male medical personnel wasn't on her bucket list. After what she'd been through, she doubted she could ever see a male doctor in her life. The only man whose eyes would ever be on her skin was standing next to her, holding her hand.

"Okay, Grace, I'm going to have you scoot back and lie down. Spread your knees like a butterfly. My nurses will hold your legs steady for me. Keep your eyes on Khai, and don't move."

Grace's breathing was shallow as she tried to relax. She pursed her lips and looked at Khai, who stood next to her. He held one of her hands and placed his other on her opposite thigh, gripping it over the paper.

"Breathe, love. It will only take a few minutes. You're so brave. You can do this."

She nodded, trying to focus on breathing. She knew he hated that tattoo just as much as she did.

"You'll feel a prick. That's just the needle that will numb the area. After that, you won't feel a thing."

Sure enough, Grace winced at the first needle, even though it wasn't nearly as traumatic or painful as receiving the tattoo against her will in the first place.

"You're doing great," Khai assured her, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

She never moved her gaze from his eyes, trying not to think about her vagina being so exposed every time the napkin shifted a bit. These people worked for the FBI. They knew about her case and what she'd been through. She was the fourth person to come to this office to have her tattoo and chip removed. They were extremely kind and sympathetic, which made all the difference.

"There. All done."

"Already?" Grace asked, surprised.

"Yes. I'm just going to put a piece of gauze over the incision to protect it from your pants. The stitches can come out in about a week. You can come back here for me to do it, or Khai can do it if that's too stressful for you. It's not difficult."

The doctor slid the paper over both her thighs to cover her. "I'll let you get dressed. Please call my office if you have any questions or concerns. I don't expect there to be a problem, but there's always the possibility of infection or bleeding."

"Thank you."

Three hours later, they were headed back to Jagger's house after Grace's first visit to the counselor. Perhaps removing the tattoo and then going to the counselor hadn't been their best-laid plan, but since the local anesthesia hadn't even worn off, Grace had hardly been aware of the incision.

She stared out the window.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Khai asked. He'd stayed in the waiting room while she'd met with Dr. Langston, who insisted on being called Carol.

Grace leaned back in her seat. "She was nice, just like everyone said she would be. It does help that she knows what I've gone through. The part at Russo's house, I mean. Obviously, the next chapter was different from anyone else's, but I feel fortunate that I escaped within a few days."

He glanced at her when he came to a light and took her hand. "Your horror is just as valid, love."

"I know, but I didn't have to shoot a man point blank or spend two months in a glass cage pretending to be four. Gemma was the luckiest. Her own boyfriend rescued her."

Khai nodded. "He did, but she was so confused and brainwashed that it was hard to reach her for a while. Sounds like she hardly believed she'd been rescued and struggled to face the fact that Damon was not her Master. She'd been held for three years."

Grace shuddered. Eighteen months had seemed like a lifetime. Gemma had been in Russo's basement for twice that long. She looked over at him. "I talked to Carol about Roses and Thorns. I've spoken to Gemma, Kally, and Nora about the club, too. I want to go there someday and see it. Carol says it can be a good idea to see what safe, sane, and consensual looks like."

"We can do that, love," he responded. "Let's get through the next few days and make sure Chekov is behind bars before we start venturing out, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Did you talk to Carol about our plans to lure Chekov out of hiding?"

"Yes, she was concerned about my determination but also understood. She said it's not unusual for victims of horrendous crimes to go to either extreme. Some want to go into hiding and protect themselves at all costs. Others want to fight. I guess I started as a hider, and now I'm becoming a fighter."

"Does that feel comfortable to you, or do you think you're being influenced by the other women?" Khai asked.

Grace shrugged. "Things changed. If you had asked me last week, I would've said I still wanted to remain in hiding, but now that I'm not feeling as fearful about the police being involved, I feel more powerful. It's okay that others have influenced me. They're right. I definitely want to do everything I can to make sure this doesn't happen to another woman. If that means being used as bait to stop at least one man, it's worth it."

She felt his grip tighten on her hand, but he didn't say anything. At least he'd stopped arguing with her about her plans. By her thinking, she was safer helping lure Chekov out of hiding than looking over her shoulder all her life, praying he didn't find her.

After Khai had them successfully inside the gate of Jagger's home and parked, he turned to her and pulled her closer.

She was surprised when he kissed her, cupping her face. "You're on your way to recovery, love. Having that tattoo removed will help you breathe easier. I'm sure Dr. Langston will help you more and more with every visit. And I understand why you want to help catch Chekov. I get it, and I won't stop you. I'll control my protective instinct to wrap you in bubble wrap and tuck you into a safe house."

She set her hand over his on her cheek. "Thank you." He'd already given his consent, but it didn't hurt to hear it again. She knew he was stressed and only worried about her safety.

"Do you have a gun, Khai?" She'd wanted to ask him many times but hadn't done so before.

"Many of them, love. I was in the Army. I will always have weapons around me for my protection."

"Is there one on you now?"

"In the console." He patted the box between them.

She stared at it. It felt strange knowing there was a gun so close to her.

"It's locked. You'd need my thumbprint to open it, Grace." He rubbed her cheek.

"Oh." That made her feel better.

"I had one in the cabin, too. It was always there in a locked box under the bed."

"Oh, I wondered what that was."

"That's what it is. You were always safe with me."

"How fast can you get a gun out of a lockbox?"

"Before you can blink, love. I promise."

"Oh." Her eyes went wide. Somehow, his declaration made her feel safer, and she smiled at him. "Do you have a gun in our room upstairs?"

"Yes." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "And I'll be holding one in my hand while I flatten myself against the door to the cabin so Chekov doesn't see me. If he shoots at you, you will drop to the floor, and he won't get a chance to breathe one more breath."

"How good are you with a gun?" she asked breathlessly.

"Three tours, and I'm still alive." He lifted a brow. "Trust me. You don't want more details than that."

"Okay." She did not. He was right. "Are you going to take a job working for your friend Shelton when this is over?"

"Fuck no," he answered without hesitation. "I might have considered it once upon a time, but that was before I fell in love with a sexy strawberry-blond woman who would pace and panic every time I left the house to do a job. So, no."

She gave him a slow smile. He was so damn sexy when he was intense, and he was very intense right now.

"Any more questions, or shall we go inside?"

She leaned in closer to him, brought her lips to his, and kissed him. "I think that's it for now, but I reserve the right to ask more questions later."

"Anytime you want, love. I'm an open book for you."