I speak with a voice that sounds like it’s been wrestling with shards of glass. “Where am I?”
The girl either doesn’t hear me or pretends not to. To be fair, it’s kind of hard to hear when her watch is making that loud beeping sound.
Which reminds me. I don’t have my phone. I pat around the soft hospital pants someone changed me into. What time is it? If Dutch, Zane, or Sol tried to call me and I didn’t answer, they’ll drive straight to the warehouse and get themselves killed.
“Where’s my phone?” I demand.
“It’s over there.” She points.
I reach for the phone, but the IV jerks me back, and I end up knocking my phone off the stand. She lunges for it, saves it from shattering to the ground, and hands it over.
“Thanks,” I say, accepting the phone from her while looking into her eyes. They’re a really intense shade of blue. Geez.
Our fingers brush when the phone passes from her hand to mine and her watch screams bloody murder.
She whirls around, spanking the watch like a misbehaving child. I’m not sure, but I think I hear her mumbling, “Shut up. Shut up.”
Just then, the door opens and a tall, thin man wearing a white coat walks in.
“Dr. Kenji!” The girl with sunshine hair brightens and skips to the man. “I heard it was your day off. What are you doing here?”
He answers in an affectionate voice. “I came to pick up some files, but I got a strange notification from your watch, so I thought I’d check in. What had your heart rate so…”
Dr. Kenji’s voice drifts into nothing as he walks deeper into the room and sees me.
My pulse jolts when I recognize his face.
It’s the doctor from the warehouse.
Dr. Kenji spins around quickly, as if he’s been caught doing something illegal. Which, I guess, if he’s involved with Kurosaki, he can’t exactly be squeaky clean.
“Dr. Kenji?” The blonde girl bends around the doctor to see his face. “Are you okay?”
He nods curtly. “Do you have discomfort at all? Any chest pain or shortness of breath?”
“Everything’s fine. I think my watch just malfunctioned.”
While they talk, my eyes skate over the computer desk. The monitors are from luxurious but little-known tech brands. I’m assuming that CPU is custom-built too. It’s a really cool set-up.
“Make sure to get that checked,” Dr. Kenji says, still not looking in my direction. “You know how important it is to?—”
“Avoid stress, over-exertion, and adrenaline rushes. Yeah, yeah. Go home, Dr. Kenji. You barely get any days off, and if Dr. Pat sees you here, he’s going to trap you in the ward until morning.”
Dr. Kenji wastes no time taking her advice. He hurries off, letting the door slam shut behind him.
I have questions. Lots of questions. Like what was Dr. Kenji doing at the warehouse? How is he tied to Kurosaki? Is he a willing member of the yakuza or a victim of it?
I’m in no position to chase after the doctor and demand answers now, but I know where he works. There’s nowhere he can hide.
The girl faces me again, and this time, she seems less flustered.
“Is this your room?” I ask.
She nods, staring at me. Something about the way she watches me makes my heart beat faster. I can’t put my finger on why.
Attraction? Fear? Deja vu?
Once again, I curse the fact that my feelings are such a mystery to me.
