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I push away my growing irritation and paste on a small smile. “Carlos? Anything else?” I repeat, wondering if he has any additional cravings, which may result in a clue that he’s spoken to Mathis.
“What do you think?” he asks me weakly, his color slowing fading.
My fingers curl around his wrist, and I stare at the clock on the wall counting the seconds to the beat of his pulse. “Rocket?” He tries to grin at the use of his nickname, but it resembles more of a grimace. “I’ll order some things I think will help. You try to rest.” I check his IV, place his hand on his stomach, and back away as his eyelids get heavy. Right before they close, there’s a spark that tells me what I need to know.
“Talk,” I mouth to Stefan, pointing to the door that leads to the lab.
He surprises me by tilting his chin to his wall entrance, swaying his arm forward in invitation. He senses my hesitation and says lowly, “I’m not going to hurt you.”
I scan his face, trying to read his mood, and decide to trust him. The instant we pass to the other side, two large monitors on a desk catch my attention. They are split-screened, monitoring the hospital room, lab, my hallways, and my door. What I don’t see is the inside of my room.
“Shocking you’re not spying on me.”
“I respect your privacy.”
I bite my cheek to keep from lashing out. It’s in my best interest to attempt civility.
“I didn’t lie. I’m not going to hurt you. You can say what’s on your mind.”
“I highly doubt you mean that.”
&n
bsp; “Unleash the sauciness. I’ve missed it.” He grins smugly, crossing his arms, and watches me expectantly.
“You’re a dick,” spills from my mouth before I can stop it.
His grin widens. “So I’ve heard. That’s the best you can come up with?”
“Considering you threatened to kill me, I’ll stick with the basics.”
His smile falters, and a flicker of regret crosses his features. “I apologize for that. It was never my intention to kill you, but I had to make myself clear to earn your respect.”
“I don’t respect you; I loathe you.”
“That’s unfortunate, considering I’m quite fond of you.”
My blood boils at his calm demeanor. “We need to talk about Carlos.”
“I figured since that’s the only thing you ever talk to me about.”
“He needs a real doctor in a hospital. I’m not qualified to carry on with his care without proper guidance. We’re playing Russian roulette with his life.”
“We seem to be doing fine.”
“Stefan, he’s about to hit bottom. All the supplies, drugs, and whatever else you’ve stolen aren’t enough to cover the fact he needs professional medical attention.”
“Aren’t you a medical professional?”
“You know what I mean! You saw his labs this morning; you see the lethargy setting in. His pulse is slow, his color fading. The worst is yet to come. You’ve forced me to follow a treatment regimen that’s typically monitored by a team of highly skilled and educated doctors. Mathis had over thirteen years of schooling and training.”
I brace for his reaction at the mention of Mathis, but his face remains impassive. “How bad is it going to be?”
“I can’t give you a definitive answer, but prepare for the worst. He told me you’ve been taking care of him at night when he feels sick.”
“It hasn’t been too bad, a few vomiting episodes, which was expected.”
“In the brief time you spent pretending to be an intern, you were exposed to what can happen. Denial is not a smart choice right now.”
