Page 25 of The Potter

“Don’t. I don’t want your pity.”

She leaves it unsaid that she wants on my schedule, and I told her no. But even if I manage to go back into the operating room, I won’t be able to perform the surgery.

I pull out into traffic, headed in any direction at this point. “It’s not pity I’m offering. I meant what I said at the appointment. I have colleagues that would be happy to review your case. Just because I can’t perform your surgery, doesn’t mean someone else won’t.”

She sits quietly for a moment before she speaks. “I don’t want anyone else.”

The constant ache in my chest grips me in a powerful hold. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help you.”

She turns her face away, and I catch a glimpse of her rubbing at her face. “33 Sunville Drive.”

“Pardon?”

She turns back, and I see the redness in her eyes. “That’s where I’m staying until you agree to be my surgeon.”

Halle

If I thought Dr. Potter would respond to my comment about staying until he agreed to be my doctor, I would have been wrong. He simply swallowed, that muscle twitching in his jaw the whole way until the motel came into view.

That’s when I finally got a different reaction.

“Do you have the correct address?” he asks me, slowing as we get closer to the motel.

“Yep, this is me.” I point to the room facing the road, my no-name neighbor already outside in his plastic chair, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “You can let me out here.”

He makes a noise in his throat that sounds a lot likethe hell.

“Really, I’m staying here.” I point just as he passes the entrance. “You missed the turn.” I try not to sound annoyed since technically he’s giving me a ride—a ride I did not need or want.

“I have an errand,” he grumbles while his knuckles turn white along the steering wheel.

“Well,” I scoff. “Don’t let my kidnapping interfere with the rest of your evening. I can wait. It’s not like I haven’t had a long day dealing with assholes.” I give him a pointed look, so he knows that one of the “assholes” I referenced includes him—and his secretary, but I’m blaming him for her behavior, too. One is not born an asshole, it develops, and I imagine working for Dr. Dick here isn’t without consequences.

Vance keeps his eyes on the road. I swear he doesn’t even blink. The only way I know he’s still alive is the fact that hot, annoying muscle in his jaw ticks in a perfect rhythm. It’s quite amazing he can stay still otherwise.

Finally, after several minutes of me staring, he finally sighs and tosses a bored glance my way. “I didn’t kidnap you.”

Yeah, I laugh. “What do you call this then?”

He faces forward, refusing to answer, which is fine because I’m right. Though, I don’t understand why he bothered. Dr. Potter was quick to push me out of his office with crushed dreams, so why does it matter if I take the bus home? He made it clear he couldn’t help me. I assume that means with transportation as well.

We drive, and I take a minute to enjoy the beautiful scenery that I’ve yet to see since I’ve been in Bloomfield, Texas. I’ve been so focused on getting back on Dr. Potter’s schedule and securing a job, I haven’t bothered wasting money on extra bus fare to see any sights.

“Is this your first time in another state?”

His voice pulls me from the big oak canopies. “No.”

The slight tilt to his mouth pisses me off. “No?”

The arch of his brows dares me to lie again, but instead of validating his theory, I give him the partial truth. “This is my first time in Texas.”

“Shocker.”

It’d be terribly tacky if I punched him, right? In his own asshole way, he’s being a nice guy and not letting me ride home with a thief. But he’s got a lot of work to do when it comes to dealing with humans. His clipped, broody yet jerk vibe isn’t ideal for the average person. Seriously.

“Well, unlike you, I’m not falling asleep with a full bank account and belly.”

The words were out before I could stop them, but I didn’t want him thinking I’m some dumb country girl who hasn’t experienced life and other states. Well, I haven’t experienced life, that part is true, but I’m not dumb. I couldn’t help that my college years were spent in physical therapy rather than a frat house. I didn’t ask for my adversity, but I was stuck with it, nonetheless. I’m making the best of the situation, and I don’t need some hoity physician looking down on me in his fancy sports car.

---