AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ryan quirked an eyebrow, and that simple gesture was enough to wipe the smile off Caleb’s face. “You saying my momma is talking nonsense?”
“No, Sir. I was merely asking what it meant.”
“Get off the poor kid’s ass, Ry.” Alex bumped his boyfriend’s shoulder. “None of us speak Texan. I have no clue what that means either.”
“That we should be prepared and stay vigilant,” Ryan said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It so wasn’t, but Caleb wasn’t dumb enough to point that out.
“Enough chitchat.” Wander rose from his chair. “Let’s get to work and solve this case.”
Damn straight.
5
Glass and chrome glinted under a bright blue sky as Roman studied the contours of the sleek building before him. The modernity of the doctor’s office felt incongruous compared to the turmoil churning in his gut. He was a man accustomed to control, to dissecting courtrooms with a sharp tongue and biting wit, not to this gnawing vulnerability.
“Ready?” Wander’s voice cut through the fog of Roman’s apprehension, grounding him.
“Let’s get this over with,” Roman muttered, adjusting the cuffs of his well-tailored Hugo Boss suit—his choice of armor for today’s battle. A little over the top for a doctor’s visit, but he always felt better when he was dressed to the nines. Clothes might not make the man, but they sure as hell could provide an extra boost of confidence.
They stepped into the waiting room, a space that screamed sterile efficiency with its minimalist furniture and muted tones. Other patients occupied the uncomfortable-looking chrome chairs. An elderly couple, moms with young kids, a middle-aged man sitting by himself—each person wrapped in their own cocoon of worry, their silent battles echoing his own. No one was at the neurologist’s office for fun. That much was certain.
He checked in with the receptionist, then obediently sat where she told them to wait. Jesse’s money and connections had gotten Roman a quick appointment at what promised to be a one-stop neurological clinic that could do all diagnostics in one day, but that didn’t mean he was spared from waiting. Not that he was complaining about that mild inconvenience. Wander and he sat silently, and Roman had never been more grateful to have his brother by his side.
The door swooshed open, and a woman swept in—their gatekeeper to answers—commanding the room, her white coat as assertive as her stance. She looked every bit the matriarch of medicine, her eyes sharp, missing nothing.
“Mr. Dwyer?”
He jolted and got up. Showtime. He could only hope she’d take him seriously. “I’m Dr. Snyder.”
He took her outstretched hand. “Roman Dwyer. This is my brother, Wander.”
“Pleasure to meet you.”
They followed her down a brightly lit hallway with endless doors, most of them closed.
“Right in here.” She stopped by an open door. Her examination room was spacious, with a desk on one end and an examination table on the other.
She gestured at two chairs opposite her desk. “Please take a seat. Now, what brings you in today?”
After a glance at Wander for support, Roman launched into the tale they had prepared. He couldn’t tell her the truth on the off chance she’d recognize his name, but he did want to stay as close to the real problems as possible. So he altered some details and told her a story of memory issues and being unable to recall doing certain things.
She listened intently, taking notes on her laptop. “Do you drink, Mr. Dwyer?”
“A glass of whiskey on occasion, but not daily and certainly not excessively.”
“Smoke?”
“Never.”
“Any other complaints?”
“Trouble sleeping, migraines from time to time.”
She frowned. “How often would you say you have a migraine?”
“Maybe once every two weeks or so?”
“How debilitating are they? Do you take anything for it?”
