Page 81 of Toxic Temptation (Krayev Bratva #1)
VESPER
“You’re not eating.”
Osip’s voice cuts through the fog of my thoughts. I look down at my untouched tuna melt, the bread already soggy from sitting too long. The sight of it makes my stomach turn.
“I need more coffee,” I mumble.
“You’ve had four cups in two hours.” He takes another bite of his pastrami sandwich, chewing slowly while watching me with those sharp hazel eyes. “At this point, you’re going to vibrate right out of your chair.”
“What are you, the caffeine police?”
“How can you even drink that swill?” He gestures toward the hospital cafeteria’s coffee station with obvious disgust. “It tastes like used motor oil.”
I push my plate away. The screech of ceramic against Formica makes several nearby doctors look up from their lunches in alarm. “You don’t have to be here, you know. I work here. You can go get your precious artisanal coffee wherever the hell you want.”
Osip leans back in his chair, completely unbothered by my hostility. “Actually, I kind of like it here. The hospital cafeteria is prime people-watching territory. You’d be amazed what goes down between the vending machines and the hand sanitizer stations.”
“You’re insane.”
“Clinically. Besides,” he adds, his tone shifting to something more serious, “this is technically my job now.”
Right. Because I need a bodyguard. I can no longer be trusted to make smart decisions when someone’s life is on the line.
“I should have requested Pavel instead,” I mutter. “At least he doesn’t force-feed me like a heifer.”
Osip picks up his coffee cup, takes one sip, and immediately makes a face like he’s been poisoned. “Someone’s in a mood today.”
He’s not wrong. I’ve been a complete bitch for three days running, snapping at nurses, arguing with residents, and generally making everyone around me miserable. It’s not fair to take it out on Osip when the person I’m really angry with is myself.
“Sorry.” I rub my temples, feeling the familiar ache of too much caffeine and too little sleep. “It’s been a rough week.”
“Has it? Because from where I’m sitting, you’ve nailed every single surgery you’ve performed since?—”
“Kovan’s avoiding me.”
Osip immediately goes still, his sandwich halfway to his mouth. Eventually, he sighs and puts it back down. “I’m sure that’s not?—”
“Don’t.” I hold up a hand. “Just don’t. We both know it’s true. He’s been avoiding me ever since that night, and we both know why.”
“Vesper—”
“He’s angry with me. And honestly? I don’t blame him.
” I have to take a shaky breath before continuing.
“I was an idiot. I saw a woman covered in blood, holding what I thought was a baby, and I forgot about everything. Forgot about Ihor and Yana and all the warnings. I went into doctor mode and stopped listening to the man trying to keep me alive.”
“That’s not?—”
“I should have stayed in the car.” I rub my tired eyes. “I should have trusted him. And because I didn’t, because I thought I knew better, Kovan is walking around with stitches and another scar to add to his collection.”
Osip reaches across the table, but I pull my hands away before he can touch them. “Listen to me,” he says, gentle but firm. “Kovan doesn’t give a shit about a few cuts and bruises. He’s had worse. What happened to him that night was nothing, and even if it wasn’t, he would never blame you for it.”
“Then why?” I whisper. “Why hasn’t he been able to look me in the eye for three days? Why does he find an excuse to leave every room I enter? Why is he sleeping in the guest room instead of our bed?”
Osip shifts uncomfortably and looks away. “He’s been busy.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m serious. We’re trying to figure out how to hit back at Ihor.
What happened that night is going to happen again, and next time, we need to be ready for it.
You and Kovan were alone out there for too long.
If he hadn’t been as fast as he was, if backup had taken another five minutes to arrive…
” He trails off, but he doesn’t have to finish painting the picture for me to get it.
I stand abruptly, feeling nauseous. “I have rounds.”
“Vesper, wait?—”
But I’m already walking away, leaving my untouched sandwich behind. For once, Osip doesn’t stop me.
I’m making my way through the seventh floor when I spot a familiar figure walking toward room seventeen: Camille Sawyer, Leo’s mother. Leo was a former patient of mine. But that’s impossible. Leo was discharged weeks ago after a routine appendectomy.
I flag down the nearest nurse. “What’s Mrs. Sawyer doing here?”
The nurse pulls up Leo’s file on her tablet and reads it to me. “Leo Sawyer was readmitted this morning with complaints of severe abdominal pain. Looks like he developed a post-surgical infection.”
“Why wasn’t I notified?” I snap irritably. “I’m his attending physician. I should have been called the moment he walked through those doors.”
The nurse’s eyes widen. “I’m sorry, Dr. Fairfax. I was told you weren’t on his case anymore.”
Cold dread settles in my stomach. “Who told you that?”
“His case was transferred to…” She scrolls through the file. “Dr. Fleming.”
“ Fleming?! ” I stare at her in disbelief. “Jeremy Fleming took over a pediatric appendectomy case? Jeremy is not a pediatric surgeon. Jeremy does not see patients. Jeremy cannot— Look, what the hell is going on?”
The nurse winces, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “All I can say is what the chart says.”
Something is very, very wrong here. Leo shouldn’t be back here—everything in his treatment was smooth and normal. And Jeremy Fleming has no business anywhere near my patients, especially not a child with a routine post-surgical complication.
“Thank you,” I tell the nurse, already turning toward Leo’s room. I knock on the doorframe before stepping inside. “Mrs. Sawyer? May I come in?”
Camille Sawyer jumps to her feet. I look past her to see that Leo is asleep in the bed, his face pale and drawn. An IV drips medication I didn’t prescribe into his small arm.
“Dr. Fairfax.” She’s brittle with anxiety. “What are you doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. Is Leo having complications?”
She glances back at her son, wringing her hands. “He developed an infection after his surgery.”
“His surgery was three weeks ago. Infections don’t typically present this late unless?—”
“Not that surgery.” She won’t meet my eyes. “Dr. Fleming called last week. He said there was something concerning in Leo’s post-operative bloodwork. Something you missed. He asked us to come back in for an emergency follow-up.”
The floor seems to tilt beneath my feet. “What did he find?”
“An ulcer. Near where his appendix was.” She’s speaking in a panicked rush, like she’s afraid she’ll lose her nerve if she speaks too slowly. “They had to operate again to remove it.”
We’ve gone from tilting floors to a spinning room. I grip the doorframe to steady myself. “Mrs. Sawyer, I need to see his medical records. All of them. Right now.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Fairfax.” She finally looks at me, and I can see the guilt written across her face. “You were wonderful with Leo, and we were comfortable with you as his doctor, but…”
“But?”
“Well, that was then. Now, we’ve been told you’ve been making mistakes. Missing things you should have caught. Leo wouldn’t have needed a second surgery if you’d found that ulcer during the appendectomy.”
It’s hard to force a reply out of my mouth. “Mrs. Sawyer, I can assure you there was no ulcer. I examined every inch of?—”
“Please.” Her voice breaks. “Leo and I have been through so much this week. Could you just… let us rest? Please?”
Every instinct I have screams at me to fight. Demand answers, goddammit! Shake this woman until she tells me exactly what Jeremy said to convince her that I’m incompetent!
But she’s scared. Her child is sick. She’s been through hell—and I won’t add to that burden.
“Of course,” I manage. “I hope Leo feels better soon.”
I back out of the room on wobbly legs, pulling the door closed behind me. Then I run to the nurses’ station.
“You.” I point at the first nurse I see. “Pull up Leo Sawyer’s complete medical file. Right now. Everything from his initial admission to today.”
The nurse looks scared but complies. After a few keystrokes, the screen fills with data, and I lean in to read.
Initial surgery: routine appendectomy, no complications noted.
Second surgery: exploratory laparotomy with ulcer excision.
My hands shake as I scroll through the operative notes. According to Jeremy’s report, I somehow missed a bleeding gastric ulcer located directly adjacent to the appendix. An ulcer that would have been impossible to miss during the procedure I performed.
Because it wasn’t there.
I know it wasn’t there because I checked. I always check. I’m obsessive about checking every millimeter of tissue before I close.
Someone is lying.
Why?