His Worst Behavior

Chapter Three

"She will take a look at you," he repeated, impatiently. His attention centered on Maurice who straightened in his presence. "Keep an eye on her. Don't leave her alone."

Maurice nodded as Roarke walked around the table to my side. He bent over, his lips grazing my forehead, as he murmured, "Behave, or you'll have me to deal with."

I gulped loudly as he lingered a little too long at my side. When he left the house, my muscles relaxed. Maurice stayed in the kitchen with me, busying herself behind the counter. She hummed, but not in an annoying way - it was such a delicate hum in such a dark place. It almost brought me to tears.

I had just finished my breakfast, abandoning the single piece of bacon, when a knock came on the front door. It was the doctor. Maurice walked over, greeting the middle-aged woman on the other side. Her dark hair was twisted back into a bun and she was dressed in loose, comfortable clothes. I gulped at the stethoscope around her neck and the box of medical instruments in her hands.

"Chloe Mars," the doctor said, offering me a grin. "I'm Dr. Paige Burnett." She joined me at the kitchen table, plopping the box down in front of me. "How are you feeling today?"

This was weird. "Uh, fine."

"I'm going to give you a physical exam, okay?" she said, as Maurice lingered behind the counter, watching. "Then, I'm just going to ask you some questions."

"I-I won't need any shots or anything, right?" I blurted, fearful. "I don't do well with needles." 

"We will see," was her short reply as she moved closer to me. I followed my first instinct - leaping to my feet and taking a couple steps backwards. I didn't feel safe. A werewolf with needles and other sharp objects. "Chloe, it's okay."

"She isn't going to hurt you," Maurice assured, slowly stepping towards us. "She is only here to help. It's okay, hun." 

Dr. Burnett gestured towards the chair. "Please, sit back down."

After a moment of hesitation, I returned to my chair. I could do this - I had endured worse over the last few months, including witnessing the death of my friend. Dr. Burnett started off by listening to my heartbeat with her fancy stethoscope; she could literally hear how anxious I was. 

During the physical exam, the poking and prodding barely registered with me. She lifted my limbs and examined every inch of me. Every. Inch.

As she scribbled down her findings, she told me, "You're underweight, Chloe. I don't even need a scale to tell you that. You need to eat more."

"Oh, she will," Maurice spoke up, nodding. "With my cooking, she won't be able to stop eating." A soft grin came onto my face at her words. There was a warmness to Maurice that made me want to gravitate towards her. She was motherly. 

"Good, very good," Dr. Burnett responded, casually. "Now, I'm going to be asking you some questions, Chloe. I need you to be honest with me." My stomach twisted when her eyes met mine, narrowing in warning. "How old are you?"

That was easy. "Twenty-three."

"And, your parents?" she said, her pen stopping. "Either side have genetic diseases? Anything that you can later adopt?" My heart ached at the mention of my parents. My father had died when I was a baby from a car accident and my mother had died shortly after humanity fell to the bottom of the food-chain.

"Uh, my mom had anemia?"

She scribbled that down. "How many sexual partners have you had?"

"What?" I blurted, not sure if I heard her correctly. She lifted her gaze, looking at me in impatience. I glanced over at Maurice who gave me an assuring grin. "Okay, uh, two."