“Yeah ... Sure. Uh ... Thanks.”
I was a little unsure about this situation, and decided to simply sit down at my small kitchen table. She immediately filled a plate, placed it in front of me and a quick peck on my cheek, and then continued on in the kitchen.
Following breakfast, I was planning to repeat the bathroom-procedure from the previous day. Claire had a different idea, though, as she insisted on not simply standing in front of the door this time.
“We talked about this yesterday, Claire.” I complained. “It worked out fine without you, didn’t it?”
“No, Honey, it didn’t. You managed to clean yourself up, but the pain almost took you out. There is no need for you to torture yourself when your sister and I are perfectly happy to help you out! I will not let you do this by yourself and possibly hurt yourself even more than you already are.”
I was surprised how adamant she was about this. Especially since it was such a sudden stark contrast to the demure display I had just witnessed in the kitchen. Honestly, I preferred her this way. If I wanted to live with a slave, I wouldn’t have helped Ava, but instead abused it like Aaron and Logan had. So, while I was reluctant to let her help me, I was also reluctant to discourage her new conviction.
“Fine.” I groaned, and saw her expression light up. “Let’s get this over with.”
She was unbelievably careful taking off my clothes. She wasn’t as practiced as the nurses in the hospital, but still managed to do it while causing only minimal discomfort on my part. When I sat down on the little stool in my tub, she made sure the water had the right temperature before letting it anywhere near me.
“Don’t worry about getting the wounds wet. The doctor’s appointment is in two hours, and they’ll change all the bandages and the packing anyway.” I informed her, and she nodded.
She still turned the water off after getting me sufficiently wet, and opted to gently scrub me down with a sponge. I watched her face attentively the whole time. When she slowly lifted my right arm and heard my pained reaction, there was what seemed like genuine worry in her eyes. That calmed me down a little. When she started working the soapy sponge around my lower stomach, though, there was a quick and obvious reaction I didn’t like, and I could see a glint in her eyes as they locked onto my erection.
She moved the sponge further down, rubbing it over my balls, and finally wrapped it around my shaft to clean in with slow strokes.
“I think it’s clean now.” I said after a few strokes. The coldness in my voice surprised even myself a little, and her hand immediately stopped moving.
“But ... Don’t you want me to...” she asked, confused.
“No.”
“Oh. I understand. I’m sorry, Honey.” she sounded meek again and hung her head, but this time I couldn’t give in. “D ... Do you want me to get your sister for this?”
“It’ll go away on its own once you stop stimulating it. Can we just finish, please?”
“Of course.”
It was clear that she wasn’t just disappointed, she was hurt. But I couldn’t help her with that. I may haven’t had a chance to jerk off in a week, but I’d rather stay celibate for another five weeks until my collarbone stops tormenting me, than to become dependent on them for that as well.
She finished with the sponge bath, rinsed me off, and then dried me off without another word. Even when she helped me get dressed, I got the impression that I had just beaten her into submission by refusing to let her jerk me off.
When it was time for the first appointment with my GP, she insisted on driving me, and I realized that she seemed to have time on her hands despite Tuesday being a weekday.
“I take it you haven’t found a new job yet?” I asked her.
“No.” she sounded a little uncertain. “But I have to admit that I haven’t honestly looked into getting a new job. At least not since Thanksgiving. I was too occupied with the ... trouble at home.”
“Hm. Understandable.”
“And ... since I’m now looking after you, I thought ... I would at least wait until you can use your arm again before I start looking again.”
I had suspected as much. Though, it gave me an idea that would possibly help me accept her help.
“Well, when you’re taking care of me, how about I just pay you what I would otherwise pay for a day nurse?” I offered.
“Pay me?” She sounded confused at first, but then her voice shifted to a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment. “How much ... would that be?”
“I googled that yesterday. Lowest for the level of care I need right now would be somewhere around $420 a week. I obviously can’t afford that while paying the rent and everything else. So, if you would do it for half, while living with me for free...”
“Yes!” she quickly accepted after her eyes grew big towards the end of my offer. “Thank you, Honey!”
The eagerness in her voice surprised me. She must have had some money troubles. Well, I knew they had money troubles, but maybe they got even worse somehow. She was, after all, already living in my apartment for free, and before she moved herself into my apartment, she was living in John’s house for free, so it’s not like she was facing some kind of existential crisis. Though, who knows what Aaron had done to their bank account after his wife and daughter left him.
And then, from the very back of my head, another thought struck me. She didn’t even let me finish my offer after she heard that she would be living with me. Maybe that was the reason she accepted so eagerly. Not the money, but the assurance of being able to stay with me?
My thought process was interrupted when the examination started. Just like when I was stabbed, he didn’t let me wait long before calling me in. First thing he did was order some X-Rays. Then I went back to have my wounds examined. Claire kept to the background, in the very same pose she had used in the kitchen, causing the doctor to throw her a few irritated side glances. Though, when he started unpacking my wound and removed the gauze pad from my shoulder, she got her first actual look at the damage on my body, and gasped as a sad look overtook her face.
“Why are these wet, Mr. Brown?” the doctor asked in obvious displeasure. “I imagine you’ve been through this often enough to know that you shouldn’t shower with these kinds of wounds.”
The way he phrased it, it sounded like I constantly had some kind of deep wound on my body. Something Claire heard as well, as I could see another wave of sorrow wash over her face when I glanced over to her.
“Listen, Doc. I’ll have to pull down my pants to let you and at least one of your pretty nurses put their faces close to my junk, in order to have this leg examined. That is NOT going to happen unless I take a proper shower beforehand.”
His nurse giggled hearing my words, and the Doctor started to grin.
“Well, I guess you have enough experience to be careful. Make sure that no soap comes into direct contact with that bullet wound. That would be bad. And it would hurt!”
“Promised.” I answered, as he smeared some kind of iodine ointment on a thin gauze strip.
“Now, this might sting a little.”
“AHFFFUUUUuuuucckKKK!” I growled through my teeth when he suddenly started pushing the damn gauze strip into the hole in my leg, using a giant cotton swab to pack it.
Claire immediately was by my side. She seemed torn between wanting to hold my hand, and the urge to run away. She compromised by holding my hand, but kept her back turned to what the doctor was doing. I could be biased, but there was a lot of gauze going into my leg, and I failed to see why less of it wouldn’t work just as fine.
After that was done, he took a look at my shoulder and determined that I should return in two days’ time, so he could remove the multitude of stitches and go over the X-Rays with me. I had to blink a few small tears out of my eyes by the time he was done, but we managed to get me dressed and out of the building.