Page 4 of Isabelle & Jason
Isabelle flinched before attempting to open her eyes again. At first, everything was blurry. Then slowly, a figure came into focus. He was tall with dirty blond hair. The scruff along his jaw was darker, though. Something in the back of her mind said there was a familiarity about him. But that didn’t make sense.
He was dressed in scrubs and a white coat and was seated on a rolling stool. His eyes were kind, but his body was stiff. Worry lined his mouth, and he glanced over his shoulder when someone passed her room. With a push of his foot, he rolled to the curtain that hung to the side of the open doorway and tugged it closed. He turned to her with a reassuring smile. “I’m Doctor Klein. I’ll be helping you out today.”
She blinked at him, feeling the sudden urge to bolt. Her hands fisted the blanket over her legs. At least she was still in her clothes, though it looked like she’d lost a couple buttons on her blouse. Isabelle remained silent. She didn’t know what was worse. Not knowing what had happened or sensing that her situation was about to get ten times worse.
“We found your ID in your back pocket. Isabelle Palmer, is that correct?”
“Y-yes…” Her voice cracked and a sense of dread washed over her, reality crashing right along with it. She was in a hospital. The doctor in front of her was worried.
What happened? She wanted to scream the words. To demand that Dr. Klein tell her everything. And at the same moment, she wanted to shrink away into a tiny ball and hide from the world.
The doctor inched closer. “Ms. Palmer, you were brought here by a concerned individual who…” He cleared his throat as he shifted his gaze to his hands and fiddled with the ring on his left hand.
Married.
She didn’t know why that made her feel better, but it did.
He blew out a breath. “You were attacked,” he said.
A sharp inhale had her nearly choking on her spit. Her mind immediately went over what she remembered last. She’d been at that bar with… with Dillan. Stomach churning, her face flushing, she shook her head. “Dillan wouldn’t?—”
“Dillan?” Dr. Klein asked. He reached for a clipboard on a nearby counter.
“No!” she snapped. “Don’t.”
The doctor looked almost disappointed. In her?
She shut her eyes and looked away. “What happened?” Her voice was so quiet, she didn’t even know if he heard it.
He hesitated once more. “When you were brought in, you were unresponsive. The individual who dropped you off?—”
Isabelle lifted a hand. “Dropped me off? What do you mean? He’s not here?” Where was Dillan? He had to be the person who brought her in, right? He’d been her date. She trusted him. “Dillan would have never left?—”
“Ms. Palmer,” Dr. Klein whispered, “I can assure you the person who brought you in wasn’t this Dillan you keep asking about.”
“How do you know?” she practically shouted. “If he didn’t stay?—”
“He filled out some paperwork.”
“Well, I want to talk to him. Maybe he was the one—” She could feel her pulse quicken. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her palms went clammy. Her whole body shook, practically vibrating. Her breathing shallowed and spots filled her vision.
At some point, Dr. Klein had risen to his feet, his voice quiet but muffled due to the roaring blood in her ears. He reached for her, clearly in an attempt to soothe her, but there was no calming her. Not now.
“No!” she snapped, wrapping her arms around her drawn-up knees and rocking back and forth. “Don’t touch me.”
He hovered at her side, but she refused to look at him.
Isabelle didn’t know how much time had passed before she’d finally calmed down. Dr. Klein had brought in a female nurse to sit with her until she was ready to speak to him again.
When he entered, she stiffened. He maintained a respectable distance, his hands in his pockets. “Are you ready to try again?” His words weren’t callous or impatient. There was even a degree of empathy to them, strange as that seemed.
She nodded, rubbing her runny nose into the blanket she fiddled with.
“I’ll start from the beginning. At approximately eleven-thirty last night, you were brought into the emergency room. The young man who dropped you off indicated he thought you’d been drugged and that your behavior wasn’t due to simple intoxication. With that in mind, I authorized a toxicology screen.”
Isabelle couldn’t move. She sensed the nurse reaching for her and didn’t pull away when she grasped onto her hand and squeezed. Tears burned behind Isabelle’s eyes. This wasn’t happening. She’d always been so careful. Never did she take drinks from strangers. She rarely went out like she had last night. She’d only gone because the guy from her college English class had invited her.
Dillan.
