"You want me to go to an off-books doctor who literally operates out of his backyard..." Rhiannon's eyes ticked left. Puzzling. She took a deep breath and began to pick and peel at the tape on her forearm.
This was part of the bargain of seeing someone. It had factored into her decision-making when things started to look more serious than physical with Cian (which, admittedly, was a short transition period). People who cared developed opinions on a hunter's methods. The part where Rhiannon crossed her fingers and said a prayer was in hoping that Cian vocalized those opinions out of care, rather than as a directive, and could swallow it if she didn't do what he suggested.
Rhiannon pulled the tape off her arm and showed him the lump. "I think it's just bruised. Cracked at the most. And this," she pulled down the neck hole of her shirt to show him the bruise on her collar bone.