CELL

/ NINETEEN /

Doctor Bradley smiled at Ryan and shrugged.

The chance was gone. She was going to open up to him, wasn't she? Spill the beans? And that Pedra had to spoil it! For fuck's sake!

The offender handed her tablet to Bradley, who ignored the offering. She was red faced and panting.

"D..." Gulp down air. "D... Doc..."

"Peddy, unless you want that stutter to be permanent, I suggest you get yourself under control. Sort yourself out, girl!"

Pedra nodded with a frantic jiggle of her head. She stood up straight, as if to attention, and sucked in a hefty dollop of air. As she exhaled in a controlled manner, she brought her hands down in front of her.

And focus.

"S..." Another, smaller gasp, followed by a shudder to dispel her unprofessionalism. "Sorry, Doc. You need to see this."

"Excuse me, Missy, but who are you to tell me what I should see?" Bradley berated her assistant.

Ryan felt he would have told her to stick her job up her arse sideways if he'd been treated like that, and couldn't understand why Pedra took it. Maybe it paid well, and she received a bonus for every insult.

"Apologies, Doc," said Pedra, blushing. "I would never dare."

"So, what are you telling me? Can't you see I'm busy with this?"

Bradley indicated Ryan, emphasising the 'this.' She thought highly of him, then.

"He told me to show you."

Ryan saw the doctor's face suddenly tense. Her jaw set and her eyes seemed to pale, and he wondered if Medusa has slithered in. She cleared her throat.

"Show me."

Pedra was handing the tablet over again, but Bradley snatched it off her.

So, Dr Fiona Bradley wasn't the top dog? Even she answered to someone, and she was either afraid of or hated him. Or both. There was something more, too. What, Ryan couldn't tell. Another emotion had shadowed her face before it turned to stone.

Interesting.

Her finger swiped across the screen a couple of times, then he saw her eyes move across the screen, reading something. She swiped again, back this time, and double tapped. After a few seconds, her arm fell to her side and she let go of the gadget. It was a casual, deliberate drop, rather than an accidental release. Pedra's hand shot out to catch it before it hit the floor. She glared at the doctor, who had stepped towards Ryan.

"Wipe that look off your face, Peddy dearest, or I will."

Pedra blinked and straightened. She licked, then bit at the bottom lip, reprimanded unexpectedly by someone who wasn't even looking at her.

"Who is she, Ryan?" Bradley asked.

"What? Who?"

He realised who she meant as he was asking. He continued his sentence anyway. It was a double-edged response. Who was Bradley talking about? Who was she at all?

"The girl you were telling Jarvis about. Who is she?"

"I don't know what you mean," he said.

It was a mistake, he knew. Don't piss the woman off. Too late. The slap echoed in the room and inside his head. It hurt like a fucker, too.

"Pardon? I didn't quite catch that," she said.

He thought about pleading ignorance again, just to wind the bitch up. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of that hand again, nor did he wish to hear the quiet snigger from the twins beside him.