Page 22 of Doctor Enemy

Olivia frowns. “What do you mean?”

“The crash,” I tell her, with another painful sniff. “It wasn’t my fault. They hit me. I wasn’t speeding, and I was right where I was supposed to be.”

“I know,” says Olivia. She reaches out and runs a hand over my shoulder. It’s meant to be soothing, I’m sure, but it just presses against all of my bruises and makes the tears burning my eyes even harder to contain. “There were witnesses. Everything’s already been sorted out.”

She leans forward and gives me the world’s most careful hug. It’s a much softer touch than the shoulder stroke had been. She treats me like I’m glass.

That’s alright. I feel like glass right now. Even this feather-light touch is enough to make me hurt.

“I’m just really glad that you’re okay,” says Olivia. “You scared the shit out of me. And out of a bunch of other people, too. Look!” She gestures at the bedside table, where several cards have already been placed. “Everyone’s worried about you.”

I counter, “You’re just glad that you drove your own car. Admit it.”

Olivia cracks a smile. “That too.” Then her expression grows more serious. “They kept you under for twenty-four hours after the surgery. I was starting to worry that I would never see your eyes open again.”

That’s not unusual. Bad surgeries are often easier recovery-wise if the patient is kept out for more than just a few hours. I lick at my teeth, though it doesn’t do much. My mouth is so dry that my lips are sticking to the fronts of my gums.

“Who’s my doctor?” I ask.

Olivia pulls back and makes a face. “He did a really good job on your surgery.”

“Olivia,” I insist. “Who’s my attending doctor?”

She looks away. “Kurt.”

“Lockwood?” I can’t keep the disbelief from my voice.

The bed is propped up at a slight angle, to keep my head above my heart and reduce swelling. The neck brace is a pain in the ass though. I can’t even properly turn my head to shoot her a disbelieving look.

“Look, I know that you two don’t get along, but he’s taken great care of you so far,” says Olivia. “I think that you ended up in really good hands.”

“Sure,” I say. “Until he decides to go out drinking with his friends again. Then he will come in hungover—”

“I’ve never seen him hung over.”

“He gets here late all the time. You just haven’t worked with him before,” I insist.

Olivia says, “And you only worked with him once.” A pause. “That kid wasn’t his fault, Lori. It wasn’t on either of you.” She reaches out, brushing filthy hair out of my face. “And on some level, you know it.”

My lips purse. I snort, then wince, because even snorting hurts. “God, is my nose broken?”

“In two places,” says Olivia. “On the upside, crooked noses are totally cute.”

I close my eyes, trying to get my emotions under control.

I’m tired, in pain, and so thirsty that I would drink straight vinegar if it was given to me. I know that means my temper is going to be short. I guess it also means that I’m going to start crying again because my eyes are already burning.

Olivia’s whole tone shifts back to being soft.

She likes to take care of people. She also likes to be in charge. This is basically the perfect career for her. Someone will just need to teach her where the ice chips are.

“Sorry,” I say, my voice cracking and warbling. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop it.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Olivia soothes. “What hurts? I’ll let Maddie know on my way out, or Kurt, if I pass him.”

It’s not the pain.

Well, it is the pain. But it’s a lot of other things, too.

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