“Thank you, Calla. We’ll sort out a phone of your own tomorrow, then you can text Dr. Stringer directly whenever you need to. Sound good?”
Smiling, I gave him another nod before I closed my eyes and snuggled down under the blanket. Getting comfortable in the chair, I allowed my mind and body to be at peace.
“That’s it, sweet one. Relax and rest. You’re safe here and we have all the time in the world.”
Worried he was leaving when I heard his footsteps moving away, I opened one eye to check. But he was just walking over to a couch that sat next to one of the bubble tubes where he sat down. He glanced my way, giving me a smile before he turned his attention to his phone, and I let my eyes close all the way, giving in to the tiredness that always hit after an episode.
Chapter Seven
Calla
Waking disorientated, I tightened my grip on the blanket, wrapping the heavy weight tighter around me. Where was Kimori? I whimpered when I couldn’t feel her near me. I needed her.
“Hey, sweet girl, you’re okay. You’re safe in the sensory room at Rawhide Ranch. In case you don’t remember, my name is Eric and I’m a friend of Dr. Stringer. You allowed me to bring you here after you arrived with your stepfather and mother in the middle of having a meltdown. You’ve been sleeping for?—”
When he paused, I shuffled around until I could see him. Memories sparked through my mind as I took in his handsome face, his beard and warm dark brown eyes that were currently focused on the watch on his left wrist. Eric Maestro, my knight in shining armor. The strange warmth I’d felt when he’d held me earlier swirled through me again. I still wasn’t sure what it was, or what it meant, but it was an enjoyable sensation.
“Three hours.” He lifted his head to focus on me, and my breath caught at the zing of pleasure that shot down my spine when our gazes caught for a moment before I quickly lowered mine. Was that the feeling those romance novels hadbeen talking about? But Eric was a doctor like Dr. Stringer, a professional helping a patient. My thoughts switched track when I noticed a covered tray sitting on the side table next to Eric’s couch. I frowned and cocked my head. What was that lid hiding?
“In case you woke up hungry, I put an order in for a few different things. It’s nothing special, although Chef Connor can make the simplest of dishes into something amazing. Since I wasn’t sure how long you’d be sleeping, I didn’t order anything that needed to be eaten while hot. If you want something that is, I can order it for you. It wouldn’t take long to be made and brought over. Would you like to look at the menu?”
I shook my head. Just the thought of having to choose from several options had goosebumps rising on my skin. I was sure that whatever he had ordered would be fine. Especially since he’d not ordered anything hot. I’d never enjoyed food with a lot of heat, either the temperature or spice kind. Raising my thumb to chew on the side of it, I tracked his movements as he stood, collected the tray then came toward me. He really was tall. Much taller than Jack. I shuffled over, rearranging the blanket to make room for the tray since there was no table near the armchair.
After he settled it next to me, he lifted the lid and my eyes widened in awe at what was revealed. Several white ceramic square and rectangle containers sat nestled together, each one containing something different. Tears pricked my eyes at how, while the tubs themselves touched, none of the various neatly cut vegetable strips in them did. Even the strawberries, blueberries and raspberries were in three separate pots, not all mixed together. It was utterly perfect.
“Everything is raw and nothing has any sauce or dressing on it. I also requested your bottle of water to have its seal intact. No one at Rawhide would ever try to slip you drugs, but I understand you’re not going to be able to simply believe that, not after what your stepfather pulled.”
His words had me pausing and frowning up at him. How did he know?
Eric sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You didn’t know. Dammit. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Oh, I was fully aware that Jack liked to drug me whenever he felt the need. I wasn’t sure how to communicate that to Eric, or the fact that I wanted to know how he knew. Forcing myself to be brave, I reached out and tapped a finger against his thigh before pulling my hand back. He looked down at me, his hand dropping away from his face. He lowered slowly until he was kneeling on the floor in front of me.
“Did you know?”
I nodded, then tapped a finger lightly over his heart.
“You wanna know how I know?”
I nodded again.
“I had my suspicions as soon as he tried to demand that we use a tranq gun on you to get you from the car to inside. But he confirmed it in his meeting with Derek, the man who owns and runs Rawhide Ranch. While you were sleeping, I had a text chat with Derek. He told me the bastard had sounded proud of himself, bragging that he’d laced your juice in order to get you here. Told Derek that he’d been sure he’d given you enough that you should have still been under its influence when you arrived.”
He shook his head, muttering a curse under his breath before he reached out to take my hand between both of his. The tingles that ran up my arm and straight to my heart were a pleasant distraction from the memories that rose with Eric’s words.
“I’m a medical doctor, Calla. I used to work in the emergency department of a big hospital in L.A. Drug use was a common sight. I know for you to have come out from under the drug’s influence faster than you should have means you’ve built up a tolerance to it. That only happens through exposure. So yeah, I know he had to have done that to you before. I don’t wantto think about what that bastard’s done to you while you were drugged. I wish?—”
His words cut off and risking a glance up, I stilled at the pained expression on his face, the way his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. His grip on my hand that was still sandwiched between both of his remained gentle, but every muscle in his body was tense.
Dr. Stringer had told me that Eric’s past meant he would understand my needs. I’d thought maybe he had known someone else who’d been AuDHD or was autistic. But now I was wondering if it wasn’t more to do with the abuse and neglect I’d been through.
Unable to stand him hurting because of me, I pulled my hand from between his and lifted it to rest against his cheek. Hovering over his face, letting the hair of his beard tickle my palm for a moment before I forced myself to follow through and press my skin against his. Trying to ignore how soft and warm he felt, I clenched my jaw and with a racing heart, looked directly into his now open eyes that were filled with questions, before I shook my head firmly, then lowered my gaze to his lips, unable to hold his intense stare any longer.
“No to what, sweet girl? To him having hurt you before?”
I winced. Hurt was a vague word, it covered too broad a range for me to answer with a yes or no.
