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She walks back around her table and takes a seat. “And whoareyou to her?”
I already knew this question was coming and I'm no one to her. "That is not your concern. I'm a man that can see she's more lost than anyone I've ever met and I want to bring her back. I don't know anything about her, and I'm not family to her, but—"
"There's something about her that has pulled you in." The doctor finishes my sentence for me, and she has hit the spot with that answer. Hopehaspulled me in, and I don't want her to push me out. "I do think that she needs help, but I'm surprised that—"
“So, you’ve noticed that wholewon’t look at a manthing?" Jackson interrupts her, and I glance around the office again, wanting to get a better feel for her.
“Not just men,anyone. She won’t look at anyone in the face. The floor is the only place she looks.” She stops and starts tapping on the keyboard, then looks me straight in the eyes, holding my gaze. I have no idea what she’s looking for, but she won’t find anything. No one ever finds anything.
There’s silence for a moment, Jackson stays quiet. He didn’t have to come. I brought him with me to make sure that I ask questions that stay within the law and I don’t take a step out of it. For some reason and at the moment I don’t know why, but when it comes to Hope, I don’t care what law I have to break to find out things about her.
The doctor eventually says, "You have darkness around you, but I have a feeling that maybe you will be able to help herifshe lets you in.”
I hold the smile that I have, my dad always says that I have a way of finding things out. I have this look about me, a look that no woman is able to say no to and a charm that can get me out of trouble. I agree I have no idea why, but women always like a man with some mystery around them, and when I have to, I can bring on a charm that would have anyone liking me.
“What do you know about her?” Jackson asks. He knows that if something happens to go wrong, it can’t come back to me because I never asked the questions,hedid.
"She came here nearly a year ago now, and I've never seen a person look so alone or lost before. She came to me, and her hands looked so sore, the skin was peeling off in places." She shakes her head. I can see this doctor wanted to help Hope. "I found out she had Lupus and I've been treating her since. I haven't seen her in a while, and if she wasn't coming to pick up her prescription every month, I would think something bad had happened to her."
After a year and she still doesn’t trust the doctor. How the hell am I meant to get her to trust me?
“Why do you think something bad would happen to her?” Jackson asks.
"Once I did a test on her, I asked her if she liked the city, trying to get her to talk and open up to me. She sat there for a while just staring into space, then out of nowhere she turned around and told me that someone hurt her when she first got here, and I don't think she wanted to tell me anything. It felt more like she just wanted to tell someone, to get it out of her system. So, I thought that person was still after her." The doctor leans back in her chair, and her eyes come back over to me and ignoring Jackson.
"What else can you tell me about her?" I ask, although this is not new information to me. I already knew someone hurt her and when I find out who that is, I'll take pleasure in watching them die in front of me.
“She could never come to see me on a Saturday; she said that was a no as she had to visit someone important, never told me a name.”
Now that's something that I can work with. Tomorrow is Saturday, and I'm going to tell her that she has to go see this person. If they're important to her, then she needs to keep them important. Maybe they can give me something, or I can hear something that she tells this person.
“Thank you.” Standing up, I button my jacket. “Before we go… her treatment, is there anything else that we can do?”
“I’d like to give her something stronger for the pain and if you can give it to her daily rather than monthly—”
I cut her off. “Why is it monthly now?” Why isn’t she taking her medication weekly if that’s better for her?
“Her medication is due weekly, which has her daily dose, but she can’t afford to buy it every week, that’s why she collects monthly. I mean it’s not cheap, so she tries to go a month with a week’s worth.”
“She’ll have them weekly. I’ll pay for them and if you can put them in my name somehow so that I can get them for her,” I tell her. No wonder Hope’s wrists are always hurting her so much. She never has enough medication in her to help her body heal.
Jackson hands the doctor his business card. “This is the number you can contact me on if you have any questions about Hope and if you want to know anything more about Mr. Masters.” He tells her that all notes and prescriptions will come to the office from now on.
“There is one more thing that has been bugging me,” I turn to her, “her pills only have her first name, how was she getting them without a surname on there?”
“That was one thing she said, begged me. She said they would find her, and the fear that I could see in her eyes, I never said anything about it. I was scared for her, and I wanted to help any way I could,” she answers and I stand there for a moment wondering who she was this scared of.
Leaving the office, I get in the car and look over at Jackson. He says, "Before you say anything, I already know. I'll see what I can find, but I have a feeling the only person who will say anything about being physically and mentally abused is Hope herself." He's right, but I can't just ask her straight, can I?
"Are we set for tonight? I need a good night." Never have I needed to let off some steam as much as I do today. I need someone that I can torture; someone that has done so much evil in his life that I plan on bleeding it out of him.
“Yeah, I get a feeling that this is going to be a long one. So, I’ll set it up and just let me know when you’re finished,” Jackson looks at his phone as it beeps.
I take my phone out of my pocket to check my work schedule. Before tonight, I want to go home to see if Hope is doing okay.
Leaning my head back, I close my eyes. How can I find out what’s so important about tomorrow? Every Saturday she goes somewhere to meet someone, but who? How can I get her to go without it sounding like I’m pushing her too much?
"I have to be in court. I'll text you the place and time." Before I can answer Jackson, the car door closes, and John starts driving to the office.
