Home > The Consequence of Revenge (Consequence #2)(3)

The Consequence of Revenge (Consequence #2)(3)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

And finally.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” I slammed the paper down and groaned into my hands.

“What?”

“A prostate exam?”

“Just give a little cough and turn your head—it will all be over.”

“Question: How many times have you had to say that to girls in bed?” I asked. “Twice? Three times?”

“You’re a jackass.” Jason pounded his hands onto the table. “And you deserve everything coming to you.”

“How do you figure?” My voice rose.

“Sex isn’t an occupation.”

I snorted. “I beg to differ.”

“Annoying the hell out of me isn’t an occupation either. You need a job, you need to get off your lazy ass and make a man out of yourself.”

“Don’t need to make a man out of myself,” I pointed out. “Erica did that for me when I was fourteen, she told me so.”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look at it this way—at least if you die on your trip . . . you’ll be buried right along with your sin.”

“My sin?”

“Lust.” He grinned. “Hey, you need a ride to the appointments, time’s wasting. Wouldn’t want to be late for your . . . date with the doctor.”

“I hate you so much that if I didn’t already feel bad about your own sister giving you two black eyes—I’d punch you in the face.”

“Oooh, feisty, the doc will love that.”

CHAPTER TWO

MAX

I eyed all the creepy skeleton posters in the doctor’s examination room and cringed as the smell of antiseptic burned my nostrils.

“I can’t believe I offered to come with you,” Jason groaned from his chair in the corner. “I should be sainted or something.”

Jerking around to face him, I pointed at his chest. “Friends go with friends to get prostate exams.”

“Um, I think you’ve confused that with the phrase ‘Friends don’t let friends drive drunk.’ ”

I gave him a serious nod. “That too.”

“I’m not staying in here when he touches you.” Jason shuddered.

Wincing, I sent him a glare. “Do you really think I want you to watch me get molested by another male? Seriously? What if you film that shit and it ends up on YouTube?”

Jason’s face broke out into a devious grin.

“For real.” I seethed. “You do anything like that and I’m gluing your nuts together.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “What? Are you going to drug me, strip me naked, and superglue my man parts?”

A coughing interrupted our conversation.

The doctor had made his entrance. He eyed both of us and grinned. “Which one’s the lucky fellow?”

Jason pointed.

I looked behind me and prayed God would deliver a fatted calf. Hey, it happened in the Bible! God provides! In desperate times!

Sweating, I gulped and gave a solid nod. I was a man. I could go through with an exam. I mean—

Holy hell.

The doctor’s hands were huge.

Side note: I’m well aware that I tend to exaggerate, but either he was having an allergic reaction or he was a giant.

“So.” He slapped on his gloves and rubbed them together.

Jason paled and put his fist in his mouth like he was going to throw up.

“You two together?” The doctor pointed between us.

“Yes!” I wailed. “And um, we want to be sure both of us are safe for . . . activities.” That’s right, bastard. I was going to throw Jason under that exact same bus and watch as the wheels went round and round.

“Oh.” The doctor glanced between Jason and me, then gave a firm nod. “All right, then, so I’ll just start with you and move on to your friend.” Holy shit. Those words made my entire body convulse. Swear I was rethinking having two balls and a bat. For once in my life, I just wanted to strike out. Break my bat, hand over the balls, and rock back and forth in the corner.

“Have you been sexually active in the past six months?” The doctor sniffed and started pulling out supplies, laying them across the table. I watched in horror as visions of getting abducted by aliens danced like sugarplums in my head.

People die from fear.

It could happen.

I read stories where people would just spontaneously combust.

And it was about to happen if the heat in my body and all-around shaking were any indicator.

“I have to—” Jason ran toward the door and slammed it behind him.

“Weak stomach?” The doctor chuckled.

“He’s afraid of my nakedness—makes him feel like less of a man.”

“O-okay.” The doctor laughed again and motioned for me to turn around. “Now, drop your pants to your knees.”

Let it be known that no man. NO MAN should ever hear those words from someone who could pass as his great-grandfather.

The cold air bit my ass as I turned and waited.

“Now, bend over.”

Shhiiitttttt.

I did as he said, cursing Jason and all his future children.

“Now, this may be cold.”

Just let it be small.

“And a bit painful, it’s totally normal to experience some discomfort.”

“Ha-ha.” I laughed dryly. “Guess we know what it means if it’s comfortable, am I right, Doc?”

And silence.

Worst thing to say when you have your pants at your ankles and the doctor’s about two seconds away from making you see stars. Where were the drugs?

   
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