Page 69

Not Rex. And his violence that day was self-defense. No charges.

Relief flooded my body like ice water on a scorching day when I read the articles. I didn’t want to care about the devil, one of the worst, most uncooperative patients I’ve ever had in my career.

But I do.

I still remember his weight on top of mine, his piercing eyes frantic as he checked my body for bullet wounds.

I still hear his furtive rasp when I asked him why he pummeled the assailant to a pulp. To this day, I question my sanity or if he really said those words.

“He hurt you. I’ll kill anyone who hurts you.”

Disappointed in myself for thinking of him so much, I step into the opulent Bistro La Mer on deck seven, where most of the restaurants and lounges are located. Perhaps a nice strong latte at a table with a sea view will wake me up.

“Welcome back, Dr. Lin. Do you want your usual seat on the patio?” A tall blond I haven’t seen before smiles at me.

As I’m about to answer her, my eyes skate over the restaurant, noting the seafoam green walls, the plush pastel pink seating, the overcast skies outside the French doors, before snagging on an occupied table in the corner.

In particular, a stunning brunette sitting by herself, staring morosely out the windows.

Bree.

“Dr. Lin?” The receptionist cocks her head.

“S-Sorry.” I force out a chuckle. “Six in the morning, not quite awake yet. But I see my friend.”

I thank the hostess and walk toward Bree, not knowing what’s gotten into me.

I’m interested in Bree because she knows Rex. She can tell me more about him. She can give me insight into how to get through to him.

Yes. That has to be it.

“Liar, liar,”Mia taunts, and I quash her voice away.

Exhaling deeply, I crack the joints in my neck before stopping in front of Bree. She’s so lost in thoughts, she doesn’t even see me there.

In this proximity, I see what makeup can’t hide—dark circles and bags under her eyes, her short brown hair sticking out on the side, like she didn’t bother to brush it this morning. She’s wearing an oversized gray sweatshirt, but she still looks cold.

And lonely.

Something about her sadness speaks to me. Tells me there’s more than meets the eye.

“Is this seat taken?” I ask softly.

She jolts, her eyes flaring in panic before softening when she realizes it’s me. “D-Dr. Lin, sorry. I was thinking about things.” She grimaces and waves at the empty chair in front of her. “Please have a seat.”

I nod and do as she says.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” I say when a waitress stops by and takes my order.

“No, no… Of course not. I…I’d been thinking about reaching out to you, but then I’d run away before I got to your office.”

My Spidey sense tingles. She isn’t looking at me, but is staring at her nails, and I notice they’re clipped very short, no nail polish, the cuticles dry and ragged.

She’s fidgety. Nervous.

Something is definitely off.

“I guess it’s good I ran into you today, then.” A server quietly sets down my latte before slipping away. I take a sip, watching Bree grimace and chew her fingernails. “Something on your mind?”