Page 113 of The Doctor's Truth

I don’t bother knocking. I just push inside and let myself in.

“We need to talk,” I say.

Not can we talk? Or when is a good time for you?

Now. We need to talk now.

My father lifts his eyes from behind his desk. He must sense the shift in the temperature, because he says, “Patterson, I’m going to have to call you back.”

He hangs up his call, setting his phone down. Immediately, I launch into it. “You tried to buy Terry Blake’s kidney. That’s coercion. Organ trade. You could see prison time for that.”

A laugh leaves my father. “What stories has he told you? That man was always half out of his mind…”

“Stop!” I demand. “Tell me the truth! For once!”

My father’s mouth draws into a thin line. He opens his hand and gestures to the seat in front of him. “Sit down.”

I don’t. I’m done with him pulling my strings like a marionette. I plant my palms on the table and look him in the eyes. “You’ve been controlling my life from day one—”

“And look where’s it got you.” His eyes are a thunderstorm, his voice low and dangerous. “The top surgeon in the Northeast.”

“I did that,” I snap. “Me. With my own two hands and a scalpel. Not you.”

He goes quiet. “Is that what you think? You were a spoiled brat. Partying on my boat. Getting drunk. Having sex. Do you think I didn’t know? If I hadn’t pulled the strings I did, you’d be nowhere. Nothing.”

“Not nothing. I’d be a father. Otto’s father.”

A bitter hiss of a laugh leaves him. “So she told you. I knew she’d crack eventually, the two-faced bitch—”

“Two-faced? Her? You’ve been lying to me for years!”

He rises from his chair quickly. I remember how much that used to scare me—the way he’s looking at me right now. How it used to make me feel so small. How I used to sink backward, cowering underneath him.

I don’t even flinch now. I stand my ground, calmly.

For a second, I see a look of surprise flicker across his face. His jaw tightens. Sternly, he tells me, “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. So you could, one day, fill my shoes. I would have done anything to see you succeed, and I regret none of it. You’re a father now, and one day, you’ll understand—”

I cut him off. “You’re right,” I tell him, “I am a father now. And I’m going to make damned sure I’m not anything like you.”

I push up from the tips of my fingers and straighten up. I’m taller than him. I have been since my limbs shot up in high school. But I never felt like the bigger man…until now.

For the first time in my life, I see how small he is. How fragile and insecure. The fear behind those cloudy blue eyes.

The last thing I see is his slack-jawed expression as I exit his office and close the door behind me.

* * *

I pick up a phone in the hallway and call downstairs to the OR. “Stop prepping Otto Stratton,” I tell the nurse. “The transplant is canceled.”

“No. It’s not.”

From nowhere…there’s Donovan. I blink, because he must be a mirage. He’s a fucking sight for sore eyes, tucked away in his leather jacket and black pants. Hair messy. Soft, dark eyes.

I want to hug him. I want to kiss him. But I don’t.

I just got finished cutting one toxic person out of my life. I’m not about to let a second one in. And right now, Donovan is a big question mark.

“Donovan.” I keep my voice even as I put down the phone. “What are you doing here…?”

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