Page 35 of Bloodlust

"I'm sorry, who is this?" I say, tilting my head. "Think you got the wrong number."

"I am not playing your games, Miss Bianco. You have thirty minutes to get to my office," he says, tone stern. "Understood?"

"I don't take orders,doc," I scoff. "Find yourself another case study."

"You calledme, Miss Bianco," he notes. "Somewhere in your subconscious, you know you need my help."

"I was drunk," I state. "I get bored when I drink."

"You're only lying to yourself," he chuckles. "It's quite the charade I must say." He pauses. "Why were you drunk, Miss Bianco? Hmm?"

I bite my lip. "None of your business."

"You've made it my business," he says. "I'm now...ethically responsible for you."

I snort. "Is that so?"

"Yes," he says. "I didn't call an ambulance per your plea, but perhaps I should have." He pauses. "I don't believe your intent was to inflict self-harm but..."

"Oh my God, stop!" I run a frustrated hand through my hair. "I'm not suicidal, okay? I was just...stressed."

"Either way, a follow-up is in order," he hums, taking a beat before adding, "Otherwise, I'll have to report this incident to the appropriate parties."

"What incident? Nothing even happened."

"See you at noon, Miss Bianco."

He hangs up.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the closet mirrors. Smeared make-up. Bloodstained clothes. Unraveling gauze. And my father's eyes. They're staring at me. Screaming at me. Begging me to listen.

Our legacy. It's in my hands. I look down, rotating my hand. My hands are bruised and beaten and bleeding. But wounds heal.

It'll heal on its own.

You must fix this, bambina.

Fix it.

Fix.

Fix.

Maybe... Maybe it'll heal faster with some help.

God, I hate maybes so much.

I sigh, swallowing my pride as I glance at Pinto. I'll do this for us, okay? Forhim. My heart clenches. And for your daddy's sacrifice.

I pull up the text from the doc and reply.

Camilla

Fine. I'll see you soon.

He responds.

The Doc

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