Uh-oh. Chandra realized her mistake a moment after her hand connected with the rock-hard jaw.

Sure, the patient had insulted her. Yes, he deserved it. But she might have forgotten she was in a room with a killer—or so the guards had claimed when they’d escorted her here.

“Whatever you do, don’t get within arm’s reach. He bites.” The guard pointed to a missing earlobe, and she’d almost bitten her own tongue when her teeth clacked shut in shock.

She’d forgotten the warning. Not only had she gotten too close, but she’d also slapped him.

As a person whose father—sometimes with a heavy hand—had taught her to own her actions and stand her ground, she lifted her chin. “You will apologize.”

His eyes narrowed. “Shouldn’t I be asking that of you?”

“I’ve done nothing, but you insinuating that I am a whore is unacceptable. I am not here to give you sexual pleasure, or for you to threaten me. It’s rude, and I won’t stand for it.”

“You won’t stand for it.” He repeated her words with incredulity. His hand shot out, and his fingers—his long and strong fingers—gripped the column of her throat. “Do you realize how easily I could crush it?”

“Seems rather extreme, especially given you’re wrong.” It took every ounce of bravery she possessed to reply. But she knew better than to back down before a predator. Sometimes bravery—and extreme stupidity—was the only thing they responded to.

“Are you suicidal?” His fingers tensed.

“I should hope not since I finally paid off my student loans and I’d like to enjoy that extra money each month.”

He released her, and she had to fight to stand her ground rather than dart across the room for distance.

“Why are you here?” He turned the tables and questioned her.

“Because I went poking my nose where I shouldn’t have.” It didn’t even occur to her to lie.

“It is a cute nose.” He looked appalled the moment the words had left his lips. His cheeks also turned a ruddy color.

“Thank you.” Compliments should be accepted, especially since, in Chandra’s world, they came few and far between. Her father didn’t believe in sparing his brood from the truth, and her grandmother turned bluntness into an art. “May I?” She grabbed the stethoscope from a tray against the wall. It dangled from her hand, an old-fashioned method still used by so many. There was something about listening to the steady thump of a heart that connected a doctor to the patient.

“Must you?”

“It is why I am here.”

He sat down on the bed. “I assure you I’m not dead,” he said as he braced his hands on his thighs and kept his shoulders back.

She stepped in close enough to reach out and placed the diaphragm on his chest. Her fingers didn’t touch him, the metal drum did, and yet, a sizzling sensation seemed to rise from his skin.

The thump of his heart beat rather fast. She slid the diaphragm over a little and leaned closer to him, as if proximity would change what she heard.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

It sounded normal, except… “Is that an echoing heartbeat I hear?” Her nose wrinkled as she looked at him.

“No idea what you’re talking about. I’m as human as you.”

Snort. “I doubt that. I’m going to check from your back.”

“You think I trust you enough to get behind me?”

“Are you admitting you’re scared of a girl half your size?”

She almost could have sworn she heard a voice say, I am very ssscared because you make me feel thingsss…

Perhaps there was something in the air making her imagine voices.

“All it takes is one knife in the back from someone you trust.”

The softly spoken words had her pausing before placing the stethoscope on his skin. “Fear should not remove your ability to trust.”

“Death doesn’t give second chances.”

“Aren’t you Mr. Philosophy.” She stopped hesitating and pressed the diaphragm against the skin of his back. A nice back showing yet again more signs of malnutrition with all his vertebrae and ribs standing out in stark relief. He didn’t flinch or tense as she moved around for a listen to his lungs. He even took in a deep breath, which he used to speak.

“Philosophy can be a great guidance for life. I was raised in a household that relied on history and famous words. I pick and choose what calls to me.”

“Sounds gentler than a fist.”

His body tensed, all his muscles suddenly becoming rigid. “Someone hit you?” He sounded so aghast.

“Many times. My father called it discipline. I called it too many beers after work.” Her father had been raised in a world that didn’t believe in sparing the rod, especially with his daughters.

“Abuse of younglings is wrong.”

“It is. And so is the abuse of people.” She moved away from his back to where he could see her again. “If you’re being held against your will, like me, then it’s wrong.”

“You’re trying too hard to gain my trust. You’re making it too obvious you’re a plant by Parker.”

“A plant?” Her eyes widened. “Are we back on that conspiracy theory again? I didn’t think cannabis and other hallucinogens that cause paranoia were part of your drug roster.”

“Why lie to him, Doctor Kashmir?” Parker’s words purred from the speakers. “He’s figured it out.”

“Figured out what?” She didn’t understand.

“The plan to have him trust you and reveal all his secrets. We gave it a good try. A shame it didn’t work.”

“You’re lying.” She could feel the panic bubbling in her as Parker strove to anger the man. He did it on purpose, and she couldn’t help but recall the warning words of the guards who’d brought her to this room. “That never happened. I swear.”

Her assertion only seemed to anger the patient. “We’re done here.” He stood again from the gurney and stepped on the fallen IV bag, causing the end of the tube to squirt brackish muck.

Poisonous-looking muck. A muck he thought she was party to.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m bored of this conversation.” He stalked toward her, and she backed away, eyes wide, hand clutching at her neck. A neck he’d almost crushed before.

Hissing filled the air as Parker, or whoever kept an eye, released the security measure to ensure no outbreaks. She couldn’t help but clap a hand over her mouth, utterly horrified. The threatening man before her might be able to handle the dosage, but she… “No. Too much of that stuff will kill me.”

The gas tickled the inside of her nose. She tried to not respond, but in the end, she couldn’t help but breathe, her hand over her nose and mouth providing a poor filter. Her knees buckled, but she never hit the floor. Hands caught her. A fuzzy masculine voice said, “I will avenge you.”