I stop mid-step as the words leave his mouth.

I whip around and face him again, my eyes boring holes into his head. “You son of a bitch—”

“Now, let’s not get hostile, Raven,” he says coolly, easily cutting me off and closing the distance between us once more.

He slides his hands into his pockets almost nonchalantly, and he sports a bored expression on his face. He seems pretty aloof, but obviously he’s anything but since he can’t seem to keep his irritating behind out of my business.

He looks me up and down for a moment, his eyes traveling all over me and scorching my skin with their intense gaze.

“I have no intention of letting your grandmother know what you do in your spare time,” he says casually.

“This isn’t what I do in my spare time!” I lash out. I realize I’m raising my voice, and I quickly tone it down for fear that someone will hear.

He continues to look at me intently, as if he’s trying to observe something, almost as if he’s assessing me.

He lets out a sigh before he continues. “This is the first time you’re doing something like this, isn’t it?” he finally says.

“What difference does that make?” I say, feeling annoyed beyond measure with him. “And more importantly, what’s it to you?”

He shrugs. “You’re my patient, and I take my oath very seriously as a medical practitioner. You have issues with your digestive tract and we don’t know the severity of those issues yet. I’d advise against consuming any alcohol until further notice—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?,” I hiss, my angry eyebrow arching so far up my forehead I’m afraid it may never come down again. “This is why you’ve been harassing me for the last half hour? Because I’m your patient?” I raise my hands, partly in surrender and partly in disbelief, but mostly because I’m not really sure what else to do with them right now. “You know what, you’re not even my doctor,” I say, shaking my head adamantly. “I just happened to get paired with you. If anything, Doctor Templin is my doctor and I’ll be consulting him from now on.”

I start to walk away again, but he stops me with his words once more.

“That’s a shame. Doctor Templin will be out of the country for a few weeks, so you’ll be waiting a while. And…”

And?” I press. I’m annoyed that he’s obviously stalling to piss me off. He clearly thinks that this is a game or something.

“And, I’d really hate for your sweet grandmother to catch wind of this…this news about you,” he says, gesturing to the space around him to demonstrate the mansion, the nature of parties like this, and what exactly he’s implying. “I can only imagine how disappointed she’ll be when she finds out her favorite granddaughter is out trying to whore herself to rich men in the outskirts of the city—”

Before I even realize what I’m doing, it’s already done. I’m on my tip toes and my palm connects soundly with the side of his face.

The impact makes a loud sound that cracks through the cold night air. I feel rather than see people look our way, and it becomes more obvious when a chorus of voices heads in our direction.

I don’t want to look behind to confirm it. I don’t want to keep standing in front of this unbelievable asshole. And I don’t want to be in this fucking compound any longer.

I storm past him without another word, still in utter disbelief that he actually just threatened to tell my grandmother about this.

My palm is throbbing, my fingers are trembling, and I can still feel the sharp sting from what I just did to Frost. I sincerely hope his cheek hurts a million more times than my hand does.

I seriously can’t believe this dude. I mean, what the hell is his problem? What kind of crazy game is he trying to play? It doesn’t make any sense. The man I just slapped across the face is not the same man I met a few weeks ago. I don’t even know him well enough for him to take such liberties and have such an audacious attitude toward me.

He looked and spoke so smugly, he obviously thought he could get away with it. In truth, he can still get away with it. If he decides to go ahead and tell Gran about this, there’s really nothing I can do to stop him. I can’t even stomach the mere thought of her knowing that I would do something like this. It would destroy her. She’s endured so much in the past year already and this would just send her over the deep end. I don’t know what I’d do if she ever found out.

Hot tears burn from behind my eyes, threatening to tear me apart as everyone else carries on as if I’m nothing short of invisible to them, concerned only with frolicking and having a good time.

I walk faster, my feet stomping into the cold grass as I feel my tears rising quickly to the surface. Once again tonight, I feel powerless and helpless, caught in a shitty situation that I’m not even sure how I got into.

I have no idea where I’m going, but I don’t really care right now. I just want to get as far away from that douchey doctor as possible and try to compose myself. Unfortunately for me, he has other plans.

I hear him following after me, his strides long and effortless and he gains on me. I try to walk faster, as fast as my shorter and colder legs will carry me, pushing myself to move quickly even though my feet are still slightly sore.

I feel myself being swung around as he pulls me back to him and turns me to face him. He does it so effortlessly that I want to scream and slap him again. Why is it so easy for him to maneuver my body like it’s nothing, especially when I’m this mad?

As soon as my eyes meet his again, he freezes for a split second, and I realize it’s because I’m on the verge of crying. I hate that he’s seeing me like this; so vulnerable and weak.

This isn’t fair.

What the hell have I done to deserve all this, and on the same night, no less?

He seems slightly stunned, but finds his voice eventually. “Ramona, I—”

“Let me go,” I say, shaking my arm free of his hold. I don’t want to see him right now, much less talk to him. But he doesn’t let go. His grip loosens but it’s still firm and clearly unrelenting.

“What the hell do you want from me?” I ask, feeling my voice transform into something of a pleading whisper. I sound pathetic. 

He takes a deep breath, exhaling on a sigh before running his free hand through his hair as if to compose himself and refocus.

“I won’t tell your grandmother,” he says, his icy eyes boring into mine. “On one condition,” he adds.

I can’t stop myself from scoffing. Of course. There’s always some sort of condition with men like him. I wonder what the hell it is this time.

I charge at him the only way I can—with my words. “What? You want me to promise to consult with you and not doctor Templin? You want me to donate to a medical charity or only do business with Greenwood from now on? Huh? What? What could you possibly want from me?”

I’ve had it up to here with him and his games and attitude for tonight—more like for a lifetime. I’m done and don’t have any more patience for this, whatever this is.

Out of nowhere, I hear another voice from behind us; one that I unfortunately recognize.

“There you are!” Mitch’s rowdy bark disturbs the cool night air, overshadowing every other conversation in the area in the most annoying way.

I realize he’s making his way toward us—toward me.

Jesus, how much worse can this night seriously get?! And just how obnoxious can one human being be?

I can’t even decide which of the two of them I’m more annoyed with right now.

“Oh God, I need to not be here right now,” I mumble to myself, but I think Dr. Frost hears me.

Mitch quickly catches up to us, and as he approaches, he looks up at Frost, almost as if he’s sizing him up. His expression turns somewhat sour when he sees Frost’s hand on my waist, and his stare lingers there for a second too long.

His disdain is pretty noticeable. This pompous ass and the “good doctor” are obviously participating in some kind of silent dick-swinging contest; one that I have absolutely no interest in being a part of.

“How’s it going, Frost?” he asks, almost as if he’s only doing so because he feels obligated by common courtesy and that he has to acknowledge his existence.

Not that a presence like Frost’s can be ignored.

“I’m doing good, uh…what’s your name again?” Frost says casually, one of his brows arched as he cocks his head slightly to the side in indifference.

I have to hold back a serious burst of laughter. If I were drinking something I’d have spit it all over Mitch’s face. Frost is being shady as hell and he knows it. All three of us know it.

Mitch’s expression turns even more sour, if that’s even possible. It’s like his face is a second away from literally turning green with anger.

“It’s McGraw,” Mitch says, visibly gritting his teeth, but he does his best to maintain whatever composure he seems to have left.

Frost extends his hand to him and Mitch reluctantly accepts the handshake. I think he only takes it because he’s trying to look like a gentleman in front of me, although I wish I could tell him not to bother. Anything gentlemanly about him was completely lost on me the second we met, without Frost’s interference or help. Bitch McGraw clearly doesn’t need anyone to make him look bad. He does a perfect job of that all by himself.

He looks between the both of us, his brows furrowing in question.

“You two know each other?” he asks. He sounds almost slighted, as if he’s annoyed with me. It’s like he thinks he claimed dibs on me or something. This guy is beyond ridiculous. I think all the men here clearly have a few loose screws in their heads.

Dr. Frost doesn’t bother to answer his question. He looks to me and asks, “Would you like me to take you home, now?”

I’m totally surprised by the question, and I’m stunned for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to say or how to respond. I figure anything would be better than being stuck here with Bitch McGraw any longer.

“Yes,” I say with a nod, smiling at him in a faux truce just so I can get out of this messy situation that has the potential to turn super messy really quickly. I’m certainly not about to give it the opportunity to.

He offers me his arm and I tentatively loop mine through it.

“Later, McGraw,” he says with a nod that I feel is more condescending than acknowledging.

He’s definitely being a douche to Mitch, but I’m not mad at it. I actually like seeing him be an asshole to an even bigger asshole.

I’d like to think that I just chose the lesser of the two evils, but as we walk across the lawn and over to his car, I’m not entirely sure that’s the case.

***

Series Navigation<< Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter FortyDoctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter Forty-Two >>
Well, tell me how you really feel.


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