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“This isn’t a joking matter, Brad.”
“I know it’s not. But she miscarried, so there was no reason to tell anyone. It was a blessing at that point.”
Dr. Pelletier cleared his throat. “What do you mean she was out of control?”
“She finds a way out of everything, like I said. She wanted this baby because it was mine. She was—and is—obsessed with me. When she miscarried, she freaked out because she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t control the situation.”
“How exactly did she freak out?” the doctor asked.
“She went crazy. Screaming, yelling, pulling out a few chunks of her hair.”
“Brad,” my father said, “she acted like this and still you stayed with her?”
Yeah, not my finest moment.
“We hadn’t been together that long,” I said. “What should I have done? Abandoned her after she lost a baby? That’s not my style.”
My father harrumphed.
“Of course you shouldn’t have abandoned her,” Dr. Pelletier said. “But perhaps you should have seen that she got help.”
“I was seventeen. I didn’t realize she needed help. It wasn’t until later that I realized why she’d cracked. She hadn’t been able to manipulate the situation the way she wanted.”
“And you fear she’ll manipulate her way out of the mental health facility?”
“I know she will, if given the chance.”
“We don’t routinely strap our patients down unless they’re a danger to themselves or others.”
“Isn’t that why you were able to put her away in the first place?”
“Yes, of course. She can’t be in society in her current condition, but under supervision, there’s no reason to strap her down.”
“What about electroshock treatment?” my father asked.
I widened my eyes. Had I just heard him correctly?
“For what, exactly?” Dr. Pelletier asked.
“To keep her docile.”
“Mr. Steel, that’s not what ECT is used for, and frankly, its use is declining. It’s contraindicated in this case.”
“How much would it cost?” Dad asked.
I remained wide-eyed.
“I don’t think you’re hearing me.” Dr. Pelletier raised an eyebrow. “If your wish is to make her docile so she won’t be in control and finagle her way out of the facility, ECT will not have the desired effect. Even though it’s a stigmatized treatment, it works well for stubborn depression. It doesn’t make a patient catatonic.”
“What about that movie? One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest?”
“It’s called fiction for a reason, Mr. Steel.”
“What will have the desired effect, then?”
“Well…medication would be the way to go.”
“Perfect,” Dad said. “Drug her.”
“Mr. Steel, I’m a doctor. Unless Ms. Madigan shows symptoms of—”
“I’m not a patient man, Dr. Pelletier,” Dad said. “How much is this going to cost me?”
“Putting away a young woman who is stalking a young man and who pulled a gun on another is one thing. I may have overstepped my bounds a little there, but I can live with myself. Drugging her is another thing altogether.”
“You were paid very well for overstepping your bounds. You’ll be paid even better to do what I ask.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Steel. I cannot in good conscience—”
“In good conscience? You took my money in the first place.” My father cleared his throat. “Brad, step out of the room, please. I’d like to talk to the doctor alone.”
Seriously? “Dad, I’m an adult.”
“Brad.” He said only my name, but it was a command.
However, I was no longer a little kid who did everything his father said without question. I hadn’t been that person since I hit the age of ten.
“No, Dad. If this concerns Wendy, it concerns me. I’m the reason she’s a nutcase.”
Dr. Pelletier spoke then. “You’re not the reason for anything, Mr. Steel. If it weren’t you, it would be something or someone else.”
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked.
“I haven’t made an official diagnosis yet,” he said, “but even if I had, I couldn’t tell you. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“Brad, I’ll ask again. Please give me a moment with the doctor.”
“No,” I said again.
“All right.” My father cleared his throat. “You may as well know how this is done. You’ll have to do it one day yourself. More than once, I’d bet. Doctor, I appreciate everything you’ve done so far. I’m willing to offer you a million dollars in cash to make sure Wendy Madigan stays drugged up and out of my son’s life for the next year. We’ll renegotiate at that time.”
My mouth dropped open.
My father offered a bribe. A big-ass bribe. I’d known he was no saint, but this…
Still, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Wendy drugged out of her gourd was A-okay with me.
“Mr. Steel, I’m sorry. I can’t—”
Quicker than a flash, my father pulled a pistol from a hidden waist holster and pointed it at Dr. Pelletier’s head.
“What do you say now?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daphne
Walk away, Daphne. Just walk away.
Whatever was inside this envelope was no business of mine.
Or was it?
I was Brad’s fiancée, after all—the future mother of his child.
And Wendy was his ex.
My hands trembled as I picked up the envelope.
