“I’m her…” I start to say ol’ man, but that doesn’t mean anything to a doctor, does it?
“I’ll stay with her, don’t worry,” Rachel reassures me.
I reluctantly step towards the bed to take DJ, but Marissa shakes her head frantically. “Please, don’t take him.”
I look at his face and see that the little asshole is sleeping.
I put both of my hands up to show I surrender. “As long as the Doctor says he can stay,” I say as I look at the man in question.
He nods.
I leave the room, and ten minutes later, the Doctor exits.
“Is she alright?” I immediately approach him.
“Apart from the memory loss,” he says in a way that very clearly conveys his thoughts on it, “Miss Johnson’s only health problem is of the mastitis variety.”
I vaguely remember her complaining about it some months ago.
“So, it’s nothing serious?”
The old fart purses his lips together disapprovingly. “It is quite serious. It’s evolved into an abscess which we’ve had to drain, she’s seized from the fever, and will have to be on heavy-duty antibiotics for the next ten days. Make sure she doesn’t exert herself physically or emotionally over the next few weeks. I don’t know why this has been left untreated for so long. She would have been in pain for days. We did a tox screen and all kinds of bloodwork, and apart from the mastitis, she seems fine. The rest I have no control over.”
He seems like a guy who’s seen some shit. I nod, my respect for him stronger now.
“Thanks, Doc. I’ll take it from here.”
He sighs like he doesn’t believe it and leaves.
Rachel and Marissa are whispering, their heads close together, when I come in. Marissa looks like she’s been crying again, but maybe that’s just the exhaustion.
She keeps avoiding my eyes for some reason. The doctor didn’t say anything about rape, but that doesn’t mean that whoever took her didn’t do stuff to her. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought.
“Were you crying?” I blurt out.
Marissa’s eyes widen, and she nods.
“Why?”
Her eyelids flutter, and then her face closes off. I want to know what she is thinking.
“The doctor told me the antibiotics they gave me aren’t compatible with breastfeeding.”
“I’ll go ask about checking yourself out, okay?” Rachel tells her and leaves the three of us alone in the room.
Marissa keeps smelling Junior’s head and stroking his back. His little body is relaxed, and it seems that he’s making up for all the sleep he’s missed since she’s been gone.
“Listen, Riss,” I say carefully, getting ready to ask her about whatever happened to her, but she interrupts.
“There was a man there with me,” she says, her tone urgent as if she’s just remembering it. “I have to call his people!”
I frown. “They kidnapped someone else with you?”
“He was already there when they took me; it doesn’t matter. I have to help his friends find him, or he’ll get killed.”
That’s about the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. There is no way in hell I’ll let her further involve herself with whatever this mess is.
But I’m smart enough not to say that. Instead, I nod.
