Page 3 of Brutal Savior

Not yet.

Fuck, though. How much is this going to cost? I'm still paying off the last two hospital trips.

The swoosh of the curtain announces a visitor. I force my eyes open, braving the glare, as a stern woman in a white coat enters. She checks a tablet and clucks her tongue. “You're up.”

“Looks like it.”

It comes out rude and clipped. She frowns before tapping a short nail on the tablet. Then she sighs, sets it down, and her face softens. My stomach clenches at the expression.

Just give me a lecture and send me home. Don't look at me like that.

“I'm guessing you know what I'm about to say. Stimulant drugs are the worst possible combination with your condition. It's not a joke, Quinn. What were you thinking?”

“I know it's not a joke,” I mutter. Nothing funny about getting a middle-aged disease at twenty-one. At first, I was so careful, following all the recommendations. But then the accident happened, and everything went to shit.

The doctor continues. “You're only twenty-four. Many Brugada patients live full lives. Why risk it for the sake of a night out?”

I can't frame an answer, and I don't owe her one anyway. I meet her gaze. “Can I go home now?”

She looks poised to say more, but a frantic beeping across the room catches her attention. She looks at me with a sigh. “We'll keep you under observation for a couple of hours longer. Try to be sensible, or you'll be back here soon. If you don't end up in the morgue.”

She walks off, leaving me open-mouthed. Blunt, for a doctor. I almost like her for it.

The next two hours crawl by without a phone to distract me. I try to tally how in the unholy fuck I'm going to pay for anotherone and come up short. I need to sleep, but the blanket is thin, and the AC is set to Arctic levels. I'm wearing a miniskirt and a crop top. The bus ride home is really going to suck.

“Quinn?” A quiet voice pulls me out of my mopey thoughts. A nurse is smiling at me, and it takes me a second to place her. Suzy, from my building. We're not exactly friends, but we chat sometimes, and I fed her cat once when she had to rush off for an emergency. I almost smile when I notice her hair. Bright pink, just like mine.

“Hey.” I tap my head. “We’re twinsies.” It's all the small talk I can manage. She seems to understand. Benefits of talking to a nurse, I guess.

She smiles and touches her ponytail. “Yes. Just thought it might be fun, you know? Not sure if I’ll keep it like this. Anyway, I’ve got good news. You've been cleared to leave.” She bustles around me, unhooking the monitors and the drip. “Do you have anyone to pick you up?”

“I gave my driver the day off, unfortunately.”

She smiles at the weak joke, then frowns as I stand. “Don't you have a purse?”

“I lost it at the club.”

“Oh. How are you getting home, then?”

A good fucking question. Without my purse, I don't even have money for the bus. Shit. An awkward silence falls as she waits for an answer. “I'll figure something out.”

“Look, give me a few minutes, and I'll call you an Uber.”

“No.” She's just being nice, but the tinge of pity in her wide brown eyes makes my skin crawl. “I'll be fine.”

No chance I'm owing her forty dollars I have no way to pay back.

I expect her to back off, but instead, she holds up a hand. She’s probably used to dealing with people as messed up as me. “Atleast let me give you five bucks for the bus. I owe you for taking care of Max last month.”

I almost say no—it's right there on my tongue—but I'm all out of options and so damn tired I can hardly think. I can't walk home, and knowing my luck, if I hitchhike, I'll get picked up by a serial killer. It burns my throat, but I force out, “Okay. Thanks.”

She grins, and it's a sunny expression. “Great. Give me a sec.”

I pick at my neon-pink nail polish as I wait for her to return. I painted them last night to match my hair. It looked cool, but it's already started to crack.

Suzy returns, passing me a five-dollar note and a bright pink hoodie. It’s got a band name on it, and I squint, trying to read the curly script splashed across the logo.

She saves me the trouble. “It’s my cousin’s band. The Pathfinders. She gave me this as a birthday present.”

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