“It’s not fresh. It can wait.” That sounded totally lame, and Nick knew it.
Porter’s eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head to one side. “Let me look at it and I’lldecide if it can wait. Medical degree and all.”
“Is Todd going to die?” Nick blurted out. He was sure this was all simply to keep his master comfortable in Todd’s last days, and the doctor didn’t want to admit it.
“No, he’s not. Here’s the deal. You let me look at your shoulder. I saw the tattoo on his chest. You’re sentries. I’ve treated sentries a time or two. If…ifit can wait, we’ll care for it when Todd is more up and around. If I don’t cure him, you don’t have to let me do a thing.”
Nodding slowly, Nick reluctantly turned and pulled his sweatshirt off, then rucked his T-shirt up under his armpits, exposing his wounded shoulder. Biting down on his lower lip to keep from crying out in pain, Nick put a hand against the wall as a brace while the doctor gently peeled back the bandage and probed the area.