I try not to make eye contact as I begin to examine him. “I feel a little dizzy,” he says in a hushed voice a moment later. “I think …” And now his deep eyes get a hungry glint in them. “I think I might need to lie down. Oh, and I’m cold.” He’s barely holding back laughter. “Will you … hold me?”
I can’t help it. I laugh so loud that Ricky’s gaze snaps around, and he smiles like he’s just found the final piece of the puzzle.
Then I’m pissed, because this isn’t exactly professional behavior. So maybe I’m a little rougher than I need to be as I clean up Angelo’s forehead wound. But he doesn’t show any signs of pain. He’s stoic, unflinching, and I imagine it would take a lot more than some disinfectant and prodding to make him wince.
He glances at Ricky and the lady, at the big man at the e
