“I’m not talking to the police,” Yoss said sharply.
Dr. Howell glanced at me. “Well, you can discuss all of that with Ms. Conner.” The older man cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about your blood work that came back.” Dr. Howell looked down at the chart. “Tell me, Mr. Frazier, how have you been feeling? Before you came to the hospital?”
“Fine,” Yoss answered gruffly.
I wanted to roll my eyes. Yoss could always be stubborn. It seemed that was one thing that hadn’t changed.
“Have you been feeling nauseous? Overly tired? What about sudden weight loss?” Dr. Howell asked.
“I haven’t exactly been in a position to pay attention to that sort of thing. But I guess, yeah, I’ve been feeling sort of rundown. And I’ve lost some weight. I mean, it’s not like I weigh myself regularly,” Yoss said, scratching at a line of stitches on his arm.
“We’re going to need to run some more tests—” Dr. Howell began.
“Why do I need more tests? Just be straight with me. I don’t like unnecessary bullshit,” Yoss growled. His face was hard. I didn’t recognize him at all. If it weren’t for that unusual tattoo and his green eyes, I would have thought him someone else entirely.
“You have hepatitis B, Mr. Frazier.”
Yoss said nothing. It was impossible to tell what he thought of that news.
“The virus attacks the liver. So we will need to run some more tests to see how progressed the disease is. If left untreated for a long period of time, it can cause significant complications. It’s hard to know when you contracted the virus, so we need to test your liver function,” Dr. Howell explained with his patented sympathetic demeanor.
Yoss didn’t say anything for a long time.
“Hepatitis B,” he repeated finally.
Dr. Howell nodded. “Do you understand?” he asked kindly.
“I do. It means one of the dudes that paid to fuck me in the ass got me sick. Yeah, I understand what that means,” Yoss spat out and I flinched. I couldn’t help it.
His ugly words shocked me.
Dr. Howell, however, never missed a beat. “Hepatitis B is spread through blood and bodily fluids, like semen. So yes, it can be passed through unprotected sex. The problem with hepatitis B is that you can have it for a long time before you ever develop symptoms. As I said, the virus attacks your liver and can cause scarring, which in turn can lead to liver failure.”
“Well, that sounds like a good time,” Yoss quipped sarcastically. He stared at the wall in front of him, not looking at either Dr. Howell or me.
“We’ll run more tests so we can make a more informed decision about treatment,” Dr. Howell told him.
“Treatment. So I need to have medicine.” Yoss shook his head. “Doc, I don’t know if you’ve figured it out, but I can’t afford treatment. Hell, I can’t even afford a decent cup of coffee,” Yoss laughed humorlessly.
I took a step forward. “The hospital has government funds to pay for your care, Mr. Fraizer. You won’t have to pay for it,” I assured him.
Yoss still wouldn’t look at me, but I noticed how his jaw tightened when I spoke.
I remembered him saying my name in his sleep. He had sounded so sad. So heartbroken.
Not now.
Now he was just pissed off.
“Imogen can explain how all that works. But as for the next step, we’ll take some blood this afternoon for your liver functioning test, though that means you won’t be able to eat any lunch,” Dr. Howell informed him.
Yoss snorted. “I’m used to not eating, Doc. It’s nothing new to me. I’ll be fine.” He finally looked at me. Just briefly.
“I’ll also most likely be ordering a liver biopsy, but we can discuss that further after I get the results from the tests.” The doctor closed the file and pushed his glasses up his nose. “I’ll leave you to talk with Imogen. Cheyenne will be in to take your vitals in a while.” Dr. Howell gave his patient a smile and then turned to me. “We’ll talk soon, Imogen.”
Dr. Howell took Yoss’s chart and left the room. Then it was just Yoss and me.
I stood there awkwardly for a while before sitting down in the chair beside his bed. I didn’t know how to be around him now. When I had walked into his hospital room yesterday, I had been overcome by memories of the young people we had been.
It was very obvious we weren’t those people any longer.
“Mr. Frazier?” Yoss sneered.
“Well it wouldn’t exactly be good for people to know that you and I—”
“Fucked?” Yoss filled in. I flinched at his cold tone.
Fucked?
No, it had never been something so harsh. He knew that. But he seemed intent on hurting me for some reason.
“That you and I know each other. Our history has no bearing on me coordinating your services. So there’s no point in bringing it up,” I finished, my voice hard and brittle.
“If you say so, Imogen.”
I took a deep breath and opened his file, pulling out the assessment I needed to fill out.