Page 29 of The Doctor's Truth

It’s Mr. King.

I fumble out of bed (and get a couple of groans from Jason as I climb over him and knee him in the stomach on accident). I yank my pants on my hips and pull my phone to my ear, rushing out of the bedroom and closing the door behind me. There’s not a lot of privacy on a boat, and leaving the bedroom suddenly feels like a bad idea because I’m shirtless and freezing. My nipples are painful knots on my chest. I ignore it to put my phone to my ear and clear my throat.

“Kenzi Stratton,” I say, trying to sound casual, but my teeth are chattering.

“Otto has an appointment at noon,” Mr. King says—no bullshit, getting straight to the point. “Don’t be late.”

I release a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I’m so relieved, I have to sit down before I fall down, and I flop onto the bench hard.

He’s going to treat my son. Otto is going to get the help he needs.

“That’s…great. That’s really great to hear.”

“And Kenzi…?”

“Yes?”

“I do have one stipulation.”

Yesterday, I was fire and brimstone. Today, I’m not above begging. “Sure. Anything.”

Mr. King’s voice goes forceful. “If you tell Jason about Otto’s paternity, I’ll blacklist you and your son from the hospital immediately.”

Cue icicles forming in my chest. What can I say to that?

As much as I want to tell Jason…that’s not why I’m here.

I’m here for my son. For Otto. And I’m willing to do anything to get him the treatment he needs.

“Understood,” I say, as serious as a drill sergeant.

“Good,” Mr. King says, then adds, “See you at noon.”

With that, he hangs up.

My heart is ricocheting in my chest. Forget coffee—I feel like I’ve been injected with straight adrenaline. I’m wide-awake and ready to go into action.

When I reenter the bedroom, Jason asks, “Everything okay?”

I sit on the side of the bed and tug my shirt over my head. “Yeah. I just have to go.”

He slips his hand to my leg. “You have to stay.”

“I have to go.”

16

Donovan

Kenzi takes off in the morning. Jason and I throw on clothes and walk her back to her car. It all happens in such a rush, I don’t have time to digest last night.

And maybe that’s a good thing.

I have about enough time to wash my mouth and change my clothes before I have to go to work.

“Carpool?” Jason asks, so I oblige.

I fill up a thermos of coffee. We take my car.

---