“What do you want? You need me to stitch someone up?”
“Nope.” I pause. “Look, what I just said was fucked up, I’m aware. But I don’t have many other choices.”
He tilts his head. I’m sure curious why I’m showing emotions for the first time in a long time.
“I know you used to work in the ER from time to time. You still working there?”
“No.”
“You know I wouldn’t ask this if it wasn’t serious, and I had no other options.” I pause, not sure if he’s going to do it, because the man still has morals. “Room 336.”
“Zane… I can’t do what I know you’re going to ask for.”
“Dan!” Leaning forward and slamming a fist on the top of his desk. “Can you just look at the fucking chart?”
“No.”
“Her name is Tatum Lynn Sherman. Her maiden name is Mosby.” He looks up at me. “She has a scar on her left hip.”
“Stop it.” He looks at me again.
“Said scar on her hip looks like it’s a ‘Z’.” I snap at him before I stand up.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He snaps as I loosen my belt and pull down the left side low enough so he can see my own scar. His mouth just drops open and he leans back again. A look of intrigue now on his face.
He looks up at me as I fix my belt and sit back down. “Dan, please.”
“I could lose my license if I told you anything about her.” He says it, but I know he’s curious now because he’s typing on the computer.
“I know. So you don’t have to tell me. I’ll tell you why I think she’s here.”
He doesn’t agree, he just stares up at me.
“I think she had anaccident.” I air quote the word accident. “ The accident is vague as fuck, though. I would bet that there’s either a note in there somewhere and if not, it’s at least a nurse or someone questioned if there’s a possibility of domestic violence.” He doesn’t do a very good job of controlling his facial expressions as he continues to read her chart. “She’s also right around 26 weeks pregnant.” I sigh as I try to say the last bit. “And I’m scared he made her lose the baby.”
“Is the baby yours?” I don’t even know if he meant to ask the question.
“Unfortunately, no.” His eyes widen at my statement. “That’s how he tricked her into marrying him along with the good ol’ if you get rid of it, I’ll kill you.”
Reaching over, he picks up the phone. “She needs to report this.”
“Stop!” I snap, looking up. His eyes widen as he looks back down at me. “He’s a detective. Do you know the chances of them trying to bury it? And then it’ll just piss him off more. He’ll blame her.”
“She needs to leave him. We can talk to her about a safe haven program.”
“That would be too easy, right? She won’t do it. I’ve already tried.”
“What did he use?”
“Me. He told her she leaves him. He’s coming after me. She’s vaguely told me this, but never how.”
“Fuck me.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“Yeah, it’s not a good one, though. I’m trying to figure out all the details.” I pause, looking at him. “Did you ask me if it was my baby because she lost it?” He doesn’t answer, just stares at me. “Fuck, it’s going to break her.” I just shake my head, falling backwards in the chair, and scrubbing my hands over my face. “I just wish I could talk to her.”
