Page 54 of Lethal Game

That he shouldn’t want it made him that much angrier.

***

Sophia stared at theclosed door, barely keeping her anger from boiling over. Con had dismissed her, like she wasn’t of any use or interest. Like she was a problem that needed fixing.

“I’m going to fix his wagon,” she grumbled as she grabbed a new slide and put it on the stage of her microscope. She was ridiculously behind in checking blood smears for any unusual morphology.

Morphology of blood cells was an early indicator of all kinds of health problems. Infections, both bacterial and viral, cancer, and immune responses were only a few.

It was interesting work, but her thoughts kept going in circles, always starting and ending with Con.

She couldn’t get the intense, deadly expression of his face when he’d fought her two kidnappers out of her mind. Then there was the expression of satisfaction he wore after their sexual encounter. The concern when he tried to explain human nature to her. His laughter after surprising him.

Why was he so upset today?

She couldn’t remember doing or saying anything too awkward. She’d worked hard not to seem like a girlfriend.

She sighed.

Throwing him out of her head wasn’t working.

She examined a dozen of slides then grabbed the handful of Complete Blood Count reports one of the techs dropped off. The one on the top was flagged with a red sticker.

The name on the report was her own. She looked at the platelet count. Low. Really low.

Shit.

Shit. Shit.Shit.

This was the second test with a much too low platelet count. One more like this and she was done. Sent home for medical treatment.Off the team.

She’d taken medication that should have raised her cell count, but it hadn’t done the job. Her bone marrow wasn’t responding. If she was going to stay on the job, be of any help at all to Max and the team, she was going to have to up her dosage or try another medication. Or both. Short term, a platelet transfusion would help, but transfused platelets only lasted three to four days. Then she’d be right back where she started.

Her bruises were going to get worse. If she started bleeding spontaneously, Max would send her home immediately.

She left her office and went to Eugene. “I need to go to the Dispensary and don’t want to piss off my babysitter. Would you go with me?”

“Sure,” he said. “Just let me tell the boss.”

Eugene called Max, got the go-ahead, and they left.

The Dispensary wasn’t far, just two buildings over, and the pharmacist didn’t even blink when Sophia handed him a new script for the medication she took to keep her ITP in check.

She and Eugene returned to the lab without talking. Eugene seemed intent on watching for threats and she let him. Right now, talking wasn’t high on her list of things to do.

As soon as she got into her office, she took another dose of her medication, then attempted to go back to work.

Her brain wouldn’t let her.

Ten years. She’d had ten years since she’d gone into remission, worked so hard, become a doctor, all with the hope of making a difference in people’s lives, only to get sick again.

She wanted to make a difference. Wanted to help people. She’d worked so hard, yet her body was betraying her again. It didn’t matter how tired she got, she wasn’t going to give up her dream until it was done.

A sob caught her unawares and she slapped a hand over her mouth. No. If someone heard her crying, they’d investigate. She breathed deep, through her nose and out through her mouth.

She had time yet.

Time before she had to tell Max.

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