“Nothing I can’t handle.” She moves her tongue around in her mouth, showing me she’s thirsty.
“Stay put, and I’ll get you some water,” I tell her after setting the thermometer down on the bedside table. The screen is orange, alerting me that she has a low-grade fever now when she didn’t a short while ago.
Her eyes track me as I leave. I have no doubt she would try to get up and leave if she could, so I leave the door all the way open when I head to the fridge. “She has a fever,” I announce loudly.
Cheryl jolts awake, sucking in a deep breath. “What?” Her eyes are unfocused as she looks around.
“Fever. Her temp is 99.9. What do we do?”
“Damn it.” She scrubs her face with her hands, then gets to her feet. “I’ll take a look at her.” She’s already on the way to the room, seeming more awake than I would have thought, considering she seemed to be pretty out of it just a few seconds ago. It’s probably something you get used to as a doctor.
“Hey,” she says sweetly while entering the room. I have no idea how old the bottles of water are in the fridge, but they are sealed so I assume they are fine. I let Maxine see me cracking open the lid before handing the bottle over to Cheryl to give her a sip.
She keeps her eyes on me but swallows the liquid down between answering Cheryl’s questions about her pain levels and if she feels nauseous.
“Why am I here?” she croaks out, still making eye contact with me.
“What about the fever? Does she need to go to the hospital?”
“I think she’s okay for now. It won’t be long until I can get her to a scan.” Cheryl checks her watch.
“Give us a few minutes,” I instruct, and Cheryl rises from the bed without another word and closes the door fully on her way out.
I walk over to the chair and take a seat. It’s an intentional move to make her feel more relaxed, but I’m not doing it for the right reasons. I’m not trying to lull her into thinking she can trust me. I truly don’t want to make her more uncomfortable.
“Why am I here?” she repeats as she lifts up on her palms, trying to sit up. Her face turns gray, and it looks like she wants to throw up for a few seconds, but she gets it under control rather quickly and settles with her back up against the headboard.
“Would you have preferred if I left you to die on the street?”
“In a parking lot,” she corrects as if that tidbit matters.
I let her see just how little I care about the distinction in my gaze. “Why have you been following me?” That was not the question I was supposed to ask, but that’s what comes from my mouth.
Her eyes widen in surprise. She had no idea I knew.
I push more, hoping I haven’t revealed too much already. “Who are you working for?”
“Working for?” Her brows knit together. I bet she wouldn’t be nearly this expressive if her guard wasn’t lowered by the pain meds.
“Not working for someone?” I ponder what seems to be a genuine response, but why else would she be following me if she’s not doing it for someone else? When her eyes shift along my jaw, I realize I was rubbing my chin, so I drop my hand.
“I’m not following you, and I don’t work for anyone.” One of those statements is true, but it’s not the first.
“Make it easy on yourself and tell me what I want to know.”
“Or what?” She snorts, seeming completely unfazed. It’s either because she has no concept of what I could do to her or because she does know and she’s already lived through it or worse, so it doesn’t scare her. The thought makes me a little sick, because I’m sure I know which it is.
“I’m not going to hurt you—”
“I’ve heard that before,” she interrupts with venom in her tone.
“I’ll just keep you here until I’m satisfied that I have all the answers I need,” I finish.
Her eyes narrow until I can barely see the soft blue color. She’s thinking, evaluating, and surviving. An unwelcome wave of respect for her washes over me. This woman is dangerous to me. She makes me see too much.
Instead of pushing her for more answers, I let her see how patient I can be, even though it’s a fight. “When the sun is up, we’ll be going for some tests. If you try to get away, say anything to anyone—”
“You’ll kill me.” She actually rolls her eyes like death doesn’t scare her at all.
