Page 7 of Bloodlust

"I am not that easily bought, Miss Bianco." A minuscule incredulous chuckle tumbles from his lips. "Perhapsyou should seek cooperation from a different doctor. One that has...equally loose morals."

"Let's not bring morals into business, Doctor," I sigh. God, this is getting annoying. "And that's what this is—a business transaction."

"This is not Wall Street, Miss Bianco," Dr. Malcolm states. "And my integrity is not for sale." He gestures to the door. "Please see yourself out."

"Excuse me?" I ask, scoffing. "You can't be serious." I fish a pen out of my purse and open the checkbook. "Okay, fine, three hundred thousand! Final offer."

"Did you not hear me?" Dr. Malcolm asks, his voice rising as he reaches forward, snatching the pen from my hands. "I saidleave."

I blink, glaring up at him. The disrespect. "You shouldn't have done that."

"No?" A devious ghost of a smile spreads across his face. "Why not?" He holds up my gold pen. "Are you angry now?"

I grind my teeth together, ears burning. "Give me back my pen."

"And if I don't?" he asks, holding the pen in the air. "What will you do?"

"I'll kill you," I state, my heart racing.Fucking breathe."I will kill you."

"For taking your pen?" Dr. Malcolm clicks his tongue as he gives me back my father's pen. "You don't find that reaction somewhat...problematic?"

"Fuck off," I hiss, glowering at him as I shove the pen back in my purse. "Don't psychoanalyze me."

"That's my job, Miss Bianco," he says, skimming myface. "And I believe you are in desperate need of my expertise."

"I don't need your help, Dr. Malcolm," I grunt, digging my nails into my palm. "I'm fine."

"Suit yourself." He turns away from me and heads to his desk. "By the way—" he cranes his neck over his shoulder, "—you're bleeding."

"What?" I look down, opening my hand, a pool of blood sitting in my palm.

"I can help you, Miss Bianco." He sits down in his office chair and slides a pair of thick-framed glasses onto the bridge of his nose. "If you'd let me."

"You don't know me," I say, tears threatening to spill. "You can't help me.No onehas been able to help me."

"I disagree." Dr. Malcolm leans back into the chair. He links his fingers together and rests his hands on his chest. His mossy eyes heat my flesh as he adds, "I think you'd be surprised by how...effectivemy methods can be."

"Save it," I state, heading for the door. "Not interested."

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Bianco," he calls out confidently as I twist the door handle. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."

"Not fucking likely," I grumble, almost running out of the office.

What the fuck was that? Who does he think he is? I don't need this. I don't need to be fixed. I'm fucking fine. I'm perfect. Everything is fine.

"Cami!" Zoey yells, running behind me as I storm past her. "Cami, stop! What happened?"

"Find a new doctor," I demand, pulling out my cellphone. TJ better be awake and working. I text him.Meet me at the club. Two grams. Ten minutes."I'm going to S&R."

"It's 9 a.m., Cami," Zoey points out, a frown marring her brows. "A bit early, don't you think?"

"Find a new fucking doctor!" I yell, nodding at Frankie, who's standing beside the SUV. "Take me to my club," I tell him, hopping into the backseat. I slam the door shut and roll down a window. "Go feed Pinto," I tell Zoey, who's lingering outside the car. "I won't be home till late."

"How late?" she asks.

"Late."

Until I can't think anymore.