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The juice she’d happily consumed earlier blazed an acidic trail up her throat when the saw kicked into life with a horrible, high-pitched whine.

Jasper’s blue eyes burned into hers when she made the mistake of looking at him. Not with malice or any kind of thrill at turning her arm into a horror movie work of art, but with an understanding she would never have expected from him. “This is a cast saw, Tamsyn. It’s purposefully designed not to harm flesh. The blade oscillates, using vibrations to cut the cast.”

She swallowed back bile.

“You’re probably not inclined to believe a sadist, so I’ll show you.” Switching off the saw, he set it to one side and unbuttoned the sleeve on his left arm, rolling the material up to expose a huge tattoo taking up the entirety of his forearm. “Ignore the noise. I know it’s loud and obnoxious, but so are a lot of guys. Was that a smile?”

Crap, he’d seen her lips twitch. “I-Involuntary spasm.”

“Oh, she speaks. Good girl.”

Damn it, she wished she wasn’t so partial to that phrase. Dropping her gaze to his forearm, she flinched as the saw started again. God, that sound ripped straight through her head, tightening her spine.

Hand steady as a rock, Jasper touched the blade to his flesh and ran it up his arm.

The tattoo didn’t split apart; there was no blood. His face remained calm and relaxed with no trace of pain. “The blade vibrates, Tamsyn. It needs something hard like plaster to work against before it cuts. When it touches flesh, the skin simply moves back and forth. It doesn’t hurt and, more importantly, your arm is perfectly safe.”

She wasn’t entirely sure she trusted him, but there was no doubting the evidence in front of her, especially when Jasper turned the saw off again and offered his arm for her to study up close. There wasn’t so much as a scratch scoring the ink.

“I know you’ve got some trust issues, so I’m just going to sit here and wait until you’re ready.” Reaching out, he snagged the back of a chair and pulled it beside the table, sitting down as though he had all the time in the world. “Merrick, we might be here for a while. Mind grabbing me a bottle of water from downstairs?”

Her heart seized midbeat.

“I… sure. Darlin’, you want—”

Nope, no, nuh-uh, no way in hell was she staying here with him, all by herself. There wasn’t a threat, bribe, reward, or incentive of any kind that could keep her in this room without Merrick. Her Dom knew that and she suspected Jasper did as well.

From the look on his face, he was prepared to wait her out with the patience of a saint.

Hesitantly, she forced her arm to move away from her body, holding it out to Jasper. Her hand, unlike his, was not steady like a rock; more like a rock bouncing down a hillside during an earthquake.

She wanted to be anywhere but here, away from the whiteness and cleanliness and everything associated with it. She hated the exam table and every single implement around the room that had the power to hurt her.

Saliva filled her mouth as Jasper’s hand cradled the cast from underneath.

“Good girl. If you need to throw up, turn your head to the side. You’ve turned an interesting shade of green,” he whispered, giving her a wink. “Merrick, do your lovey-dovey supportive Dom thing.”

Merrick barked out a laugh. “Lovey-dovey supportive Dom thing? Dude, I’ve seen you with your wife. Didn’t she almost break every bone in your hand giving birth to your twins?”

That blue gaze sharpened. “My kitten is a chatty little brat, it seems.”

“And you love her for it. Apparently, the scary sadist is a soft teddy bear at heart.”

A grin flashed, wolfish and sinful. “Oh really? Thanks for the heads-up, Merrick. I’ll be sure to raise my standards this evening. I’d hate to think my lovely wife is living under the misconception that she’s married to a soft touch.”

“Can you beat on a pregnant woman?” Merrick slid his hand around Tamsyn’s free one, making her realize how cold hers was when warmth surrounded it.

The saw screeched to life; Jasper’s grin widened. “Ways and means, my friend. There are always ways and means. Now, Tamsyn, close your eyes and breathe. This will be over and done in a few minutes if you don’t fidget.”

Because it was the only place to hide without physically bolting from the room, she did as he suggested. She’d spent years hiding from her father this way when it was impossible to escape his presence. Finding a dark corner in the house, turning her back to the room, and closing her eyes couldn’t erase the overwhelming sense of him looming over her, but it was a safe place he couldn’t take away from her.

Breath huffing nervously, she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to angle her ear against her shoulder to muffle the noise. A moment later, Merrick released her hand and his beard brushed her cheek. “Gonna cover your ears, little owl. Keep your eyes closed and think of a happy memory. I’m right here.”

A happy memory. Right. Happy, happy, happy.

Blessedly, the whine of the saw became muffled when those familiar hands pressed firmly over her ears, long fingers sliding through her hair to cradle her head. She had a brief, alarming thought about how easy it would be for him to snap her neck before she banished it, and forced herself to think of something nice.

Their first kiss. The first time she woke with his arm around her waist, feeling his chest rise and fall against her back as he slept. The brush of his lips over her forehead when he didn’t think she was awake, the skim of his fingertips along her cheek. The way he held her, rocking her, murmuring to her when she erupted from the clutches of a nightmare with her heart beating fast enough to burst and her mind full of visions of being chased, hunted, by men with monstrous heads.