Page 103 of The Unravelings

“So, you were one of the lucky ones to get a scholarship?” Dr. Lohr asks, leading me to an empty chair, and I take a seat. She pulls up a small stool and puts on medical gloves.

“I was,” I say slowly. “You’re doing this?” I ask, peering around as she gets supplies together to take my blood. I swear, Wade mentioned something about a nurse doing this. Doctors aren’t usually the ones volunteering.

She grins. “Of course! You know, I’m a surgeon at the local hospital, but I love coming here and helping the community and doing my part.”

“You’re a surgeon?” I practically blurt out as she preps my arm with alcohol. “Doing blood draws?” I’ve known several doctors in my life. The more work they can pawn off on their underlings, the more satisfied they are.

She laughs. “Yes. You know, even surgeons enjoy drawing blood. So how are you enjoying Greenwood so far?”

Hate it. Ten out of ten, don’t recommend it. I never want to see this place again.

“It’s been nice,” I lie through my teeth and grin to really sell my fake happiness. I’m an actor after all. And this doctor? Well, she could help give me insight into the community. “I love the people here.”

Mostly. Simon is my pal, at least. Wade? He’s all right, too. The others? Eh. Wilder seems like a good guy stuck in a bad situation. Malic? Well, he’s definitely someone to watch. Dangerous? Probably. A thief? Most definitely. He’s a killer in the ring. Determined, too. I wonder if he ever found his sister. Not that I can bring that fact up. I’m not Claire or Olivia at the bar. I’m Oliver. Dumb, stupid, ignorant Oliver, who doesn’t have a clue what’s happening here.

“That’s good! You know, I went to Greenwood U once upon a time. It’s great to see how far it’s come along with its expansions.” She smiles. “To think if I went to GU now, I could have lived on campus for all of medical school and beyond.”

“They’ve got a good setup,” I agree, holding my breath as she puts a tourniquet on my arm.

“All right, Oliver. You might feel a little poke, but this will be the worst part of it,” she instructs, getting to work while I try to block out the tiny poke and think about anything else. “This campus is amazing and has a lot to offer,” she laughs at herself, continuing to babble. “It really started to flourish under the new ownership. The board has really brought a lot of community to this campus.”

Community? Is that what she’s calling all the Mafia and gang heirs wandering around campus and trying to recruit students to their causes? Interesting. I wonder if she knows all the details or if she’s an insider to everything? She has to be if the dean is bringing her into this. Right? I really need to get my head in the game and observe everyone here. In fact, maybe JJ can help me out in that department. He is one of the “kings of campus,” which seems laughable to me.

“They have,” I agree, even though I’m lying once again. I close my eyes and take several breaths. It doesn’t hurt, but it doesn’t feel pleasant either. Maybe I should reconsider ever doing this again. Although I do like to think I’m helping the local charities and the hospital with my donation. “They have a good selection of classes.”

“I saw your major was criminal justice,” she says, leaning back with a curious glance. I nod. “I always wanted to be a surgeon so I could help people in need. What brought you to criminal justice?”

Oh, you know. I was murdered by an asshole, raised by an asshole, and my entire family is full of law-breaking assholes. Even the men I loved were into the whole criminal underground thing. So, it was a no-brainer, really.

“My family was murdered when I was a teenager. It was never solved. So, I wanted to go into something where I could bring them justice.” I blow out a breath of vulnerability.

Sometimes, when you’re trying to connect with someone, you give a little of yourself to them. A story. A piece of you. It helps them to trust you, too. My story may have been pieces of the truth, but it still feels like a knife to the heart whenever I talk about it. It’s always replaying in my head unless I force it away.

“I am so very sorry to hear that, Oliver. That’s…” She puts a hand to her lips and shakes her head. “That must have been a terrible time in your life.”

I swallow hard. “It was.”

“Have you been able to make a dent in your family’s case?” she gently asks, watching my wavering expression.

It’s hard to disguise the emotions of losing my mother and sister. They were killed right before my eyes, pleading with Franco to spare them. He never would have. He was hell-bent on taking us all out. It makes me wonder if he had taken care of my father beforehand. Maybe he killed him in his dungeons or torture chambers and came to us to remove the loose threads. Honestly, I can only hope. Because if Raphael Viotto is still lurking in the shadows, he’ll be a problem sooner rather than later.

“I’m working on it.” My voice doesn’t seem to want to work when I get the words out, which is fine. I don’t want to give her too much information. Honestly, in this town, you never quite know who is working for whom. Or what someone’s true intentions are.

“Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for, Oliver,” she says softly. “But you’re all done here. I’ll get you unhooked, put a bandage on your arm, and then Daniel will lead you to the recovery area.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Oliver. Take it easy when you sit up. You might feel exhausted or dizzy; that’s a normal response. No strenuous activities for the rest of the day.” She gives me a pointed look as she removes the needle and places a cotton ball on my arm, holding it tightly.

“I’ll go straight to bed,” I quip in a dry tone as she puts a fresh bandage on my arm and helps me to sit up. The room immediately spins out of control, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“I’ll get Daniel to bring your recovery drink and cookies over here. You stay seated and use this space for as long as you want.” She gently squeezes my shoulder. “And it was great to meet you.” She squeezes one last time before I hear the click of her shoes marching away and into the distance.

I rub my temple as more footsteps come toward me and someone plops down onto the stool Dr. Lohr had vacated. I peek an eye open and nearly groan when it isn’t Daniel bringing me recovery cookies and juice.

It’s my worst nightmare.

Jasper Jeremiah Jones.