“I told you,” she says, voice all but a whisper. “We weren’t a good fit.”
“That’s a lie, and you know it.” I remove my baseball cap and set it aside to run both hands through my hair. Afterward, I replace it on top of my head and take a deep breath. “Look, the why isn’t important right now. Who attacked you?” Focus on the problem at hand. Then we can deal with everything else.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know, or you won’t tell me? I know it’s not your dad, given he’s six feet under, so who else would hurt you, Tessa? A boyfriend? Husband?” The words are foul as I speak them, but without much else to go on, it’s the likeliest answer.
Her gaze turns furious. “Because anyone I’d be in a relationship with would be abusive, too? Poor Tessa Lane can’t seem to settle down with someone decent.” The hurt is there, plain as day, and I can’t help but wonder who put that idea in her head. That just because her dad was abusive, that was the only future in the cards for her.
“I wasn’t trying to imply anything,” I snap, my own frustration cutting through the joy of seeing her again. “But those are the most likely scenarios, and I’m just trying to help.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “I’m not in a relationship at this time.”
The relief I feel is unwelcome. “Then tell me who hurt you.”
“I don’t know,” she repeats. “And asking me over and over again isn’t going to get you a different answer. I didn’t see him.”
“But you know it was a him. Do you know if someone sent him?” If it wasn’t a domestic violence situation that landed her here, and she’s afraid of someone finding her, it means she’s likely being targeted.
What has she gotten herself into? What has she been through since the last time I saw her?
“Why are you asking me? You’re my doctor, right? Isn’t it the cop’s job to question me?”
There’s no mocking in her tone. No insult. But the occupation she speaks of is nothing but remnants of a future I gave up on long ago. A dream that existed before my life was shattered by what I thought was her death.
“I’m not a doctor.”
Her eyes widen. “But you are.”
“No,” I reply. “I’m not.”
She continues staring at me for a moment. “A cop then? Is that why you’re asking me questions?”
I take a deep breath. “Look, all you need to know is that I know how to handle difficult situations. It’s kind of what I do now. So if you’re honest with me, I might be able to help you. In order to do that, though, I need to assess the current threat.”
She’s quiet for a few moments. Am I finally getting through to her?
“You’re not a cop,” she finally says.
“No.”
“And you’re not my doctor.”
“No.”
Her gaze locks on mine, and in this quiet moment, the tension between us becomes nearly unbearable. Finally, she shifts her attention from me toward the door. “Then I want you gone.”
The words are a dagger to my already wounded heart. “What?”
“I want you gone. You heard me. Leave, Zane. I don’t want to see you.” The words are laced with agony, and her bottom lip quivers, but she refuses to look at me.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. Nurse Rose!” she yells.
Is she serious?
The door opens, and Rose walks in, a curious expression on her face. “What is it, sweetie? Do you need something?”
