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“What?” My stomach flips.
“He says he knows you and wants you there with him.” Chantal purses her lips. “He came in with the knife still in his upper arm. He won’t calm down. You need to go there and talk to him before he hurts himself or someone else.”
“Oh my god!” I gasp, thinking instantly of Connor. “I’m going!”
I rush to the exam room, as I get closer, I hear a man yelling my name. His voice doesn’t sound familiar, but trauma might be affecting him. “Connor? Connor!” I push into the room, and skid to a halt.
Inside is a bloody, rough-looking man with a long knife lodged in the soft tissue. One of the doctors, Anthony Elsher, is there with a couple of orderlies, who trying to hold him down.
“Sir, you need to calm down, right now!” I say forcefully. “Or we’ll have to restrain you.”
The second he catches sight of me, he stops struggling. “Kat?” he rasps, eyes bugging as he stares at me.
My brain works to place his face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before. “Yes, I’m Kat Bergland,” I frown.
The man stills immediately, as though someone has just shot him with a tranquilizer dart. He looks at the men restraining him. “It’s okay,” he mutters. “I’ll be calm now.”
Visibly relieved, the orderlies take their hands off him.
And then, before I realize what’s happening, the man leaps off the exam table, reaches for the knife, yanks it out of his arm, and lunges for me.
I rear back, but not enough. The blade lashes out and catches me in the face, a whisper-thin slice of pressure tracing across my cheek.
“Quad says fall in line or get cut down!” he roars. “Remember that every time you look in the fucking mirror, bitch!”
He bolts across the room and is out in the hall before anyone can catch him. Screams and crashes signal his escape.
“Call security!” Elsher yells, and steps toward me. “You’re bleeding.”
My hand reaches up on its own to touch my wounded cheek. When I pull it away, red coats on my fingertips. A dull throb, almost like a paper cut, starts to pulse from seemingly far away.
A second later, Black crashes in. His coal-colored eyes instantly register what’s happened. “Where is he?” he booms at me, pushing the doctor out of the way.
“He ran,” I stammer. “I don’t know who he was.”
The doc tries to assert control of the situation. “Sir, you’re not authorized to be here!”
“Fuck off,” Black spits out.
“Security!” the doc yells.
Black scowls. “If your security was worth a damn, I wouldn’t need to fucking be here, would I?” He turns to me. “You hurt other than that?” he asks, nodding toward my cheek.
I shake my head.
Christy runs in behind Black, and skids to a stop when she sees me. “Oh my god!” she exclaims, putting a reflexive hand to her own cheek. “Kat, what happened?”
“She got slashed because your security ain’t worth shit,” Black barks back.
“Oh my god!” Christy repeats. “By who?”
“Someone who wants to teach her a lesson,” Black answers for me. “But I’m gonna find him and teachhimone.”
“Security!” the doc yells again.
“This guy?” Black says to Christy, angling a thumb at Elsher. “He ain’t worth shit in a crisis.” He glances at me, then back at her. “You keep your eyes open,” he says to Christy. “You look smarter than he is. Black throws a venomous look at Elsher. “Try to keep her safe, for fuck’s sake,” he grunts, then turns and sprints off.
I let myself be led into another exam room since this one is contaminated now. About ten minutes later, Elsher is stitching my face when Christy comes into the room, followed by Connor. “Here she is,” Christy says. “She’s okay, but she’s had a scare.”
