Chapter Two

His words ran through her head over and over, while she went to the grocery store, while she showered, she simply couldn't forget. She spent the next few days thinking about the boy she had known, to the man he was now supposed to be. The Victor she had known had had dirty blond hair that fell unkempt over his forehead and the tops of his ears, with thick golden eyebrows. His eyes she guessed had been brown, but honestly she didn't remember their exact shade. She only remembered his pale skin, his malnourished appearance. The man she'd met nights ago now was full grown, made of muscle, his eyes were not sunken in, his cheekbones were not prominent.

When her cellphone buzzed Friday at three in the morning, she was lightly dozing after her ponderings. Sophie figured while she was pretend sleeping she could probably earn some money and help out her unit, so she rolled out of bed and got ready for work.

Sophie worked on autopilot, triaging and treating, and thanked the Lord that it was a typical day instead a crazy one. As she exited an exam room she spotted Doctor Romalotti and they started at each other for a moment, before continuing past each other, never uttering a word. When her day was finished she left, and headed in the direction of home, her thoughts still on him.

"Sophie!" came a yell behind her, "Wait up!"

She paused and looked over her shoulder to see Francis running up behind her, and stopping to catch his breath.

"You smoke too much," she muttered, as she paused on the cement, looking at him impassively.

"Sophe,Sophie, I'm sorry, I never meant you to get wrapped into this, to find out."

She let out a bitter laugh, "I'm sure. It's no business of mine anyway if you owe debts to the mob, Doctor Rome,"

"C'mon Sophe, don't sound like you've given up on me. You used to look up to me like my own kids never did, c'mon Sophe!" he pleaded.

"I just- oh crap," she finished, as another shiny black car pulled up alongside of them.

The door opened, and deja vu washed over her all over again as he stepped out, Victor.

"Christ Victor, " Francis began, but was cut off.

"I'm going to find another way home," Sophie muttered, but stood still.

"We're calling in one of your numerous debts, Doctor Romalotti. Your associate Miss Summers is welcome to join you again if she pleases, we were very satisfied with her work."

"Be smart Sophie, get out of here," Francis demanded, turning to her.

Sophie was silent as she looked between the two men. There was a tightness to Victor's eyes that hadn't been there the other day, the way he leaned against the car…

"I am smart, Doctor Romalotti, and I can make my own decisions thank you very much," she sniffed, and with her head high she ducked into the car, and caught Victor's lips twitch into what might have been a smirk. She heard Francis sigh behind her, and soon they were driving right back to where they had been before. As she and Francis washed and gloved up, she watched Victor gesture to a few men ushering them out the door, and then he began to make a call.

"So, who are we working on here?" Sophie asked, eyeing the guys standing around the surgery table.

"Let's go, I don't have all night, " Francis snapped at them, and one moved to Sophie while the other moved to the doctor.

A handful of stitches, one shoulder reset into its socket and a few packed wounds later, the crowd that had been there had dispersed, and two coffees were waiting on the wash counter. When Sophie took a sip, she found it was a white chocolate mocha again, and just as delicious as last time.

When she turned, Victor was taking off of his suit coat to reveal a button down long sleeve shirt that had blood soaking it's plum material down the right side of his chest. Sophie turned to set her cup down and wash her hands again to glove up, but when she had turned back around again it was his pants he was sliding off gingerly and then moving to sit on the side of the surgery table with nothing but his blood shirt and his tight black boxer briefs on. She fought her eyes from wandering and instead focused on the bullet hole in his right thigh that was oozing blood. Sophie and Doctor Romalotti approached him cautiously as Victor sat with hands on the side of the table.

"The bullet still in?" Romalotti asked after bring a light closer.

"Hm," Victor voiced, but his eyes were on Sophie, and they had been since he'd first emerged from the car.

"We should have helped you first," Sophie snapped at him, green eyes flashing angrily before she went to grab a scalpel and gauze.

"Sophie, grab me a syringe for the analgesic please, " Francis began and Sophie moved accordingly.

"Don't bother, let's just get it over with," Victor commanded the doctor, who paused, and after glancing at Sophie moved to the patient's right thigh.

"This is gonna hurt like hell," Francis preluded, and then the scalpel cut into his flesh, forceps ready in the doctor's other hand.

All the muscles tensed and stood up in his thigh and neck, but Victor didn't move, only starred now past Sophie, looking only to where he could see.

"Idiot," she whispered aloud as she bent to flush the bloody area with saline.

When the bullet finally landed with a plink onto the table next to him, his muscles began to relax and his white knuckled grip on the table loosened.

"Let's pack it, Sophe," Francis informed her, and Sophie nodded, grabbing the packing gauze and dressings. She crouched and after a bit more cleanup started packing the wound meticulously and taped a dressing over the opening.

"Your shirt, Victor," Francis began, moving towards the sink.

"You're free to go Doctor, Miss Summers can assist me by herself at this point. Sal, Chris, take him to the Boss. He wants to have a talk with the good Doctor. Leave me the other car, keys there." Sophie paused for just a moment, looking between Francis being pushed out by faceless men, and Victor who was looking decidedly smug as he began to unbutton his shirt.

"No." the doctor said, straining against the enforcers, " I won't be leaving without Sophie. I don't want you to try anything-"

"I assure you Francis Romalotti, Sophie Summers is safer with me than she would ever be with you," Victor growled with finality and with a murderous glare at his men, they pushed the doctor out.

When the door was closed behind them, Sophie finished washing up her hands and pulling on gloves. Turning she leaned against the counter as Victor peeled off his shirt from his right shoulder to show a nasty three and half inch cut at the top of his right pectoral.

"You might still need him here, depending on how deep it is," Sophie informed him, coming closer to examine the wound.

"It's superficial," Victor said with firmness, eyes on her face, so close to his own

She clucked her tongue and then moved to get more saline to clean up the area to better visualize his 'superficial' wound. As she mopped up the blood staining his skin, his muscular form emerged from the bloody mess and Sophie felt her pulse race again and focused on the task at hand.

Grabbing the sutures and her tools with some fresh gauze, she once again moved closer and began to stitch him up. His breathing was steady, but hers was ragged as she felt the heat of him, his thighs on either side of her, and his breath on the side of her face and neck as stitched him up.

"You went to juvie, but then the state motioned to try you as an adult for the brutality of...the crime," she finally managed.

"Mmm," he replied noncommittally.

"I wrote the judge, your lawyer said it would help, but I never got a reply, or anything," Sophie supplied.

"That's a public defender for you," he growled next to her ear.

"I was worried...when your letters stopped coming," she said after some more silence.

"I...became busy," he supplied, when she looked at him expectantly.

"With your...new...mob gang?" she guessed, and her answer was only a silent glare.

"When did you leave the neighborhood?" he asked instead, and this time, when she bent back to her work, she felt his fingers on her right hip.

She inhaled raggedly, and he seemed to like her reaction because he pulled her as close as he was able to for her to still manage her work. When Sophie finally regained her senses she supplied, "I was fifteen when you were arrested, and my Aunt died two years later. I left then. I wrote you a letter," she whispered.

Sophie finished the last stitch and cut the suture, but stayed where she was, unsure of how she felt about the fingers of his left hand creeping over the swell of her butt, the way his chest rose and fell against her own. She licked her lips, and put her gloved hand on his right leg gingerly to break away, but his left hand moved to grab her right wrist, and moved her hand up, her wrist to his nose and he moved her hand to press against his face.

"You used to walk me to school and back," she whispered, looking into his dark eyes.

A rumble in his chest was her only answer, and then, "Well, you followed me for awhile, and when you noticed that I knew you were there, then you asked if you could walk with me."

"You never talked," she answered, breathless. "I...I remember the fridge," she said, her voice cracking.

The moment broke with what could have been a shattering of glass as he moved away from her quickly.

"Victor I-" she began, stripping off her gloves to follow his path as he too quickly shoved his right arm back into the bloody shirt sleeve with force.

"No more remembering, Sophie," he growled loudly, and threw on his coat before reaching for his pants.

She moved back as if slapped, realizing that she had gone too far for him, and although the whole situation was messed up and she really had no idea what was going on, she was contrite.

Sophie cleaned up in silence as he pulled on his pants and began turning off the lights. He grabbed her coffee for her as they left and he locked the door behind them. He surprised her by opening her door and handing her the coffee as she sat in the front seat. Sophie watched with wide eyes as he slammed the door shut and then prowled around to the driver's side and flinging open the door, slid in.

The street lights slid like liquid over his hairless face as he drove her back home, his right fingers drumming a rhythm on his right thigh as his left hand turned the steering wheel this way and that.

Before she knew it, Victor had pulled to a stop in front of her apartment. He looked resolutely forward, and wouldn't meet her gaze as she stared at him in silence. Finally, looking out the window, she sighed and moved to get out of the car. With a swift movement that left him wincing slightly, his right hand pulled out another wad of cash from his jacket and held it out to her.

"For your services," he muttered.

Sophie stared at the cash and felt anger and pity well up in her chest, "I don't want your money, Victor," she snapped.

"Take it," he snarled, eyes flashing over to her face.

"No," she retorted, flinging open the door.

Anger twisted his face, before he shut it off and closed himself to her, turning once again towards the street.

Sophie inhaled a large breath of fresh air as she sat on the edge of the seat and then turning back, she planted a soft kiss to his right cheek and he went utterly rigid in his seat.

" I remember the boy who waited with me at the mall all day on my sixth birthday for my mom to show up," she confessed, because no one had ever done anything that noble or nice for her before, or since.

This time, when she moved away and left the car, she could feel his eyes on her back like an inferno, that scorched her to her soul.