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By the time he was at the sink scrubbing his arms, Dr. Chase appeared, and Renato gave him a flat look. “How did I beat you here?”
“I—”
“I don’t want excuses,” he said, turning away. “But do your job better if you want to last.”
“That’s easier said than done around here,” Dr. Chase snapped back, but Renato was done paying attention. He had a job to do, and God damn it, he was going to do it well.
Chapter Eight
“Did you really tell that poor boy he’d be better off learning suturing skills off Google?”
Renato paused halfway to reaching for the coffee tin, and he looked over his shoulder. Bettina—one of the older nurses—was standing across the room with her hands on her hips. She was wearing scrubs with little kittens all over them, and Renato would take it to his grave, but he really loved how cute they were.
He sniffed and turned back, grabbing the tin and then frowning because it was empty. “No. I told him that teenagers who got their education off Google MD or whatever it’s called have better suturing skills than him. I swear to God the poor woman was about to bleed out on my table.”
Bettina sighed and shook her head. “You could be nicer.”
“And they could be more competent,” he snapped. No one had held his hand when he was in their place. No one had been kind. No one had cradled him or soothed his hurt feelings. When he fucked up, the attendings made sure he knew it. They drilled it into his head so he didn’t do it again.
And it hurt, but he was a better surgeon for it now. So what if sometimes he still flinched when someone was cruel to him? That was the price he paid for being one of the best surgeons in his region.
His mentors told him his residency would be the hardest job he ever worked, and they hadn’t lied.
Why should he be kinder?
He finally found a small tin with dredges of ground coffee left, and he grimaced as he filled the little filter, ignoring the nasty, burnt smell of coffee he didn’t want to drink. But he was shaking from the lack of caffeine, and he wasn’t going to get through his day without something.
At this point, he was like a frozen pond on the edge of spring—seconds away from cracking. He felt like he was in shreds, and if one more thing went wrong, he’d lose it.
The coffee began to brew, and for a moment, he breathed in the whiff of sweet relief. And then…there was something else. Something pungent and terrible.
Vinegar. The coffeepot was brewing with vinegar.
He slapped the button, turning it off, and then he spun around to catch a head of light hair disappearing around the corner. This time, he knew without a doubt it had been Frey. He’d been willing to ignore Frey’s pathetic attempts to get a rise out of him before, but he couldn’t do it anymore. He was tired, he was sad, and there was no one around to kiss his own tender wounds better. And there never would be again.
The only person who had ever tried was now dead and buried, and Renato was on his own.
He moved in a blind rage without thinking, and the next thing he knew, he had Frey by the back of his scrubs. He shoved him through the door of the doctors’ mess and slammed it behind him. Frey let out a shout as Renato flicked the lock, and then his breath left him in a rush as Renato pinned him to the wall, his forearm tight against Frey’s chest.
“Do you feel better now?”
Frey’s mouth gaped like a fish for a second, and Renato had a sudden, wild thought that he’d like to put something in there and give his snarky little tongue something better to do than wag at him.
Frey swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what you’re talking abo?—”
“Enough with your sorry little lies. I’ve ignored this for too long. It makes you feel big, no? To see me suffer? To wait until I’ve had a terrible day and make it so much worse?”
Frey’s eyes narrowed. “I could say the same thing to you. You don’t get to play all high-and-mighty when you’re just as bad. You’re a fucking soulless asshole.”
Renato’s jaw ached from how hard he was clenching it. “You know nothing about my soul.”
Frey bared his teeth and clamped his hands around Renato’s hips, digging his fingers in. “Fuck you.”
“I bet you wish I’d let you. I’m the only one who won’t look at you, no? The only one who doesn’t think you’re worthy.”
Frey’s cheeks flamed pink. “You’re the only one I don’t want to look at me. You’re a fucking lonely-ass waste of space who treats everyone like they’re beneath you. You deserve to be taken down a peg.”
Renato blinked at him, fighting back a hysterical laugh. “Is that why you’re behaving like a schoolboy?”
