I stared him down, my eyes cold.
“No. I want a different hospital.”
His face went slack. He clearly hadn’t seen that
one coming.
“What are you talking about? We’re about to
start. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s my body. My choice. I want to be
transferred, now!”
I said it again, each word laced with steel.
“Liv, please calm down. Mark is your boyfriend
and the top surgeon here. He wouldn’t let
anything happen to you.”
The anesthesiologist stepped closer, all smooth
and reasonable.
“Exactly because he’s my boyfriend I want a
<
“Exactly because he’s my boyfriend, I want a
different hospital, or a different surgeon,” |
snapped back. “If he gets too emotional during
the surgery, screws things up, what then?”
“Well, I…”
11
The anesthesiologist was stumped, couldn’t
argue with that logic.
“What the hell are you doing?” Mark’s grip on
my shoulder suddenly tightened.
Pain flared, sharp and hot, and I gasped.
“Time is life, Liv! You’re badly hurt. We can’t
waste time!”
He pulled the anesthesiologist aside, leaned
close, and whispered urgently in my ear.
“There were a lot of injuries from the explosion,
so I made sure you’d be under my care. And
<
—
even she is ” As if realizing something, Mark
abruptly cut off his words.
But I knew what he was going to say.
He wanted to say that he had even placed Lila
to the side, so what else could I want.
But clearly his only choice was to take my
heart!
I shoved his hand away, cold rage coursing
through me. “I don’t want you to operate on
me!”
Chapter 2
- 2.
Last time, I’d trusted him too much. I’d been so
relieved he’d chosen me in the crisis, so sure
he’d never hurt me.
!
That’s why I’d blindly signed the damn organ
donation form.
Wait…
Right now, I’d already signed it!
That’s why Mark was so on edge.
His precious Lila was probably kicking the
bucket in the next OR, waiting for my heart to
show up.
I stared at Mark, nothing but icy hatred in my
eyes, my mind racing for a plan.
“Liv, let the anesthesiologist get you under. You
really can’t wait any longer.”
Mark gave the anesthesiologist a look, and the
guy got the message, moving in with that
needle like a damn predator.
<
Panic roared in my ears.
I was a sitting duck, helpless.
My heart hammered, my breath came in short,
ragged gasps. I was so scared I was practically
paralyzed.
“Mark,” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper, “Why was there an organ donation form in with the other paperwork I just signed?”
“Organ donation?” The anesthesiologist gawked at Mark.
Mark froze, a flicker of something ugly crossing his face.
Then, he switched gears, acting all innocent
and understanding. “Oh, so that’s it. You’re
regretting signing it?”
He sighed, all long–suffering boyfriend. “It’s
<
completely your choice, Liv. If you regret it, just
tell me. You can withdraw it, no problem.”
“But Liv,” he went on, “We’re in a hospital. No
one wants to hurt you. Just stop letting your
imagination run wild, and let’s get this surgery done, okay?”
The anesthesiologist chimed in, “Are you… are
you paranoid, Miss?”
Mark shot him a warning glance, shaking his
head.
I just stood there, frozen, my face burning. My
hands were clenched so tight my nails were
digging into my skin, drawing blood.
Damn him. He was good.
He was spinning this into me being mentally
unstable.
“Okay,
nough in naugh We’re wanting
8:17
“Okay, Liv, enough is enough. We’re wasting time.”
They were both closing in.
Was I really going to die here, all over again?
874
No freaking way.
As the anesthesiologist reached for me, I threw
all my weight against him, shoving him
backwards.
Then I snatched a scalpel off the tray. Pressed
it to my own throat.
“Open the door! Let me out!”
I glared at Mark, my voice trembling but firm.
“Or tomorrow’s headlines will be about a doctor
driving his patient to suicide!”
