Page 35 of Fighting Shadows

“I’m a doctor. It’s how I ended up there.”

“Explain!” The nerdy-looking one asks, more polite than the other two but still just as terrifying. I’m pretty sure he’s the bastard who punched me, and while I don’t blame him, I have a pounding migraine that’s making me feel pretty resentful right now.

All of them are still decked out in their ballistic vests, their outfits perfect for blending in with the shadows. Under the harsh hospital lights, they look like mercenaries that want to slit my throat for even touching Strange Girl.

“As I said, I’m a doctor. Charlie is, was my dad…”

“He’s your fucking dad?” The blonde one shouts, and before I can open my mouth to defend myself, a knife is flying at my face, his tattooed hand wrapped around the hilt.

“Wasmy dad. I don’t want anything to do with that cunt anymore. I’m hoping your two friends find him and kill him, if I’m being honest,” I tell him, staring into his eyes to make him see that I’m telling the truth.

The moment I walked into that room, seeing Strange Girl chained to that fucking bed will haunt me for the rest of my life, and knowing that someone with whom I share fifty percent of my DNA is behind it? It makes me sick.

“We’ll kill him, don’t worry, but we want to make him suffer first. I’m Dominic, by the way.”

Dominic backs off, the hand with the knife dropping to his side. I watch, fascinated, as he flexes his grip around it, a sad look on his face like he’s genuinely sad he didn’t get to use it.

“Good,” I reply to his last statement, not even flinching at the prospect of mydadbeing tortured. He deserves it for everythinghe’s done to Strange Girl. The others back off, too. All of them introduce themselves and then take seats around the room. Zander paces instead, his body tense and ready to strike as he glances at the door every minute.

“They’ll be a while,” I say, hoping to reassure him even just a little.

An hour later, the waiting room door swings open, and we all jerk up in anticipation of the doctor's news. A kind-looking older gentleman walks in, tiredness darkening his eyes. He narrows his eyes immediately at Kelvin, tension making his shoulders hunch. It takes me a moment to register the blood on his scrubs.

“Is she ok?” I blurt out, unable to hold myself back.

“Who are you?”

“He’s no one. How is she, Doc? Can we see her?” her brother Brenn says, pushing me out of the way and standing before the doctor.

Ouch.

I mean, I get it; I am technically no one to them, but this is about my Strange Girl.

I tell myself it’s because I see her as a patient, that I’m only worried about her condition, and that I don’t want her to die because of Charlie’s decisions. She deserves to live, to see him die, and then live her life without any worries about him ever coming for her again.

The doctor, who is called Doc, which is a bit cliché if you ask me, tells them everything I did. He reassures us all that she got lucky but that she’ll be fine before he leaves the room again. Everyone sits in silence, processing his words, but the blonde one stares at me with an unnerving glare.

“Why were you at the cabin? You never explained yourself,” he asks, demanding an answer from me.

I gulp heavily, feeling the weight of the last few days bearing down on me.

Guilt practically rots away at my insides even when I know I could have done nothing to prevent what happened to Strange Girl.

Before I can answer, the other two men from the cabin come in, their eyes instantly narrowing at my presence.

“Why is he here?” The tall, jacked one asks. God, he must be about 6’5. I feel like an ant about to be crushed.

“Gingey here is about to tell us why he was at the cabin,” Dominic mutters, never taking his eyes off me.

“First of all, rude. You don’t see me calling you blondie.”

“Psychopath normally works better,” Zander murmurs. So why were you there? Can you answer without diverting off topic?”

“Fine,” I sigh. My dad called me, saying ‘the love of his life’ was sick. Don’t interrupt my story.” I hold up my hand to stop them. If you could, please save all questions until the end. That would make this go much faster.”

They nod in agreement, albeit reluctantly.

“So he called me saying she was sick with a high temperature. I questioned him as to why he wouldn’t take her to the hospital, and he told me that the moment she stepped foot in one, the horrible people who were looking for her would take her from him. When I got there, I walked into the room and saw her chained to the bed. I walked right back out intending to get her help and ended up with a concussion and my own pretty bracelet.”

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