“You need to lie down, doll. You’re not fine.” I lay her on the bed and she immediately sits up, covering herself with the sheet, phone still in hand.
“Who are you texting?” I finally ask, and she looks back at me with defiance.
“Sarah. I needed to make sure everything is running smoothly. And it’s not!”
“Mrs. Harrison-”
“Stop calling her that!”
“Stop calling me that!” We snap at the doctor in unison. Well at least we’re on the same page about something.
“Rebecca, then?”
“Becca.” I correct him before she opens her mouth.
“Ah. Becca, may I take your vitals and ask you a few questions?”
She keeps her lips pressed together and nods slightly. Why is she acting like this? She just got abducted and beaten, almost murdered. Is she hiding something? She’s got to be holding something back. She lays the phone on the bed and I immediately snatch it. A click of the home button takes me to her security code screen. I start to ask her, but then I remember her son’s birthday from the info Tony gave me. The day after my mother’s birthday. I click 0405 on the screen, and it opens. Her eyes widen, and her jaw juts out.
“Don’t text her back yet. I’ll figure out why.” She starts breathing heavy. “I’ll come up with a lie.”
I read through the few dozen texts from “Sarah PA.” Holy shit. Who the fuck has this many questions in only a few hours? The last one is, “where are you?!?” And Becca’s already responded to all of the other requests.
“You’re not going to tell her anything.” I put the phone in the pocket of my sweats and cross my arms. “You’re going to lie there and get your physical and then rest so you can get better.”
“I’m fine.” Doctor Koleman’s busy reading her pulse and ignoring us.
“You aren’t fine.” I don’t want to recount everything that happened today, but how the fuck could she think she’s fine?
The doctor takes the stethoscope from around his neck and instructs her to sit and breathe. At least she’s listening, even if she’s ignoring me.
“Becca, how are you feeling?” he finally asks, taking a seat in the chair I left by the bed.
“Don’t say fine.” I cut her off with a hard glare as she opens her mouth.
“I feel sore, especially my ribcage.” She speaks calmly, but the doctor cuts her off.
“Two of your ribs are fractured. You’ll have to rest up to help them mend.” She stares at the doctor with a look of confusion before shaking her head.
“No, I’m fine.” Her voice is small and laced with disbelief.
His brow furrows. “I'm certain they’re fractured. You’re on pain medicine at the moment, codeine. It’s going to take at least six weeks to heal properly. You don’t have to rest in bed all day, that’s fine. But you do need to take it easy and make sure to do some deep breathing every two hours to prevent any further damage to your lungs.”
She breathes in deep, as if testing his words. Her eyes fall to the floor.
The doctor continues, “Other than the fractures to your ribs, you have some serious abrasions on your ankles. I’ve left ointments here. You’re going to want to keep them covered when you shower, but gently wash them after and apply the ointment and bandages to keep them clean until they heal.”
Becca stares at the floor with a blank expression before slowly raising her head to look at Dr. Koleman.
“Becca, do you remember what happened?” he asks.
She noticeably swallows before answering, “Yes.”
“Would you mind sharing what you remember?” The room is so fucking quiet I can hear every breath, every small squeak from her shifting on the bed.
“It doesn’t matter. The past is the past for a reason, and it can stay there. I will continue to move forward.” What the fuck? Is that a public relations response?
“Becca, your blood pressure is very high. Are you currently on any medications?” She blinks slowly before answering with a nod. “I need to know what they are.”
“I’m on Valium,” she answers while her fingers intertwine and pull on one another. Her eyes flash to me before finding the ground.
“Anything else?”
She bites the inside of her cheek and says, “The morning-after pill.” I cock a brow at that answer, and then she continues, “Klonopin as well.” She twists the sheets in her hand. “Just at night though. The Klonopin helps me sleep.”
“How long have you been on these?”
“Almost three months. I was hoping to wean off of them, but it didn’t go well,” she answers with a hint of trepidation.
“What happened when your doctor lowered the dose?”
“Just an anxiety attack.” She says it casually, like it doesn’t even matter. “It’s been working very well.”
“I can see that. Your blood pressure is very high at the moment though, Becca.”
“I see.” Her words are sharp.
He leans forward and speaks with gravity in his voice. “I’m worried that you may be in a bit of shock.”
“And what can I do to fix that?” She looks expectantly at him, and I can’t fucking believe it.
“We’ll know more tomorrow. I’d like you to take your pills if you have them on you.”
Her eyes find mine as she answers with a bit of irritation, “They’re at my home.”
“No need to worry. I’ll be back soon with new medication.”
“No need. I need to go home to get a few things.” She starts to stand, and I move directly in her path.
“I’ll get everything you and Jax need; you aren’t going home.”
Her eyes flash with anger. “I think you’ve done enough.” Her words are designed to hurt me, and they're effective, but I ignore them.
“You would really put Jax in danger?” That gets her attention. She clenches her jaw.
“What am I supposed to do then? Nothing? Just let life roll over me?” Her breathing picks up as her voice gets louder. “Just lie there and let life fuck me over time and time again?” Her hands shove against my chest, surprising me, but I stand still and hardly budge. “What do you want from me?!” Tears burn in her eyes as she waits for a response, keeping her gaze firmly on mine.
This is the emotion I expected. More anger than I thought. But this is more of what I had anticipated.
“You just need to come with me, and I’ll take care of everything.”
A humorless laugh slips past her lips. “No you won’t.” She doesn’t say these words with anger. They’re simply stated as fact. “No one’s going to take care of me except for me. And I take care of Jax,” she says as she sidesteps me and mumbles under her breath, “no one else.”
She opens the door barely an inch before my palm slams on it and closes her in.
“You need to relax for just a minute and think things through, Becca. You don’t really have any options.”
She shakes her head and tries to pull the door open, even though she can clearly see I’m pushing against it. “I’ll just go to the police; they’ll be able to do something.”