12
Zander
Nobody’s Perfect
WELL, THAT BLEW UP SPECTACULARLY IN MY face.
What the hell had I been thinking?
Putting a burner phone in her letterbox? Telling her to keep me as her dirty secret? Christ! No wonder she thought I was planning on murdering her!
Thank God, I’d paid cash for the phone and not put in any of my details. This could destroy my career. I could be arrested. Gran would be rolling around in her urn right about now, wondering why the fuck I’d done something so stupid!
She called the police.
If I wasn’t so shit terrified, I would’ve been so damn proud of her.
I’d heard stories from Melody that Sailor had a sharp tongue, inappropriate sense of humour, and could give back as good as she got, but I’d never been on the receiving end of such a conversation. Whenever we’d talked, it’d never gone past the common pleasantries of strangers.
I hadn’t been prepared for the kick in my gut as her replies vibrated in my palm. I’d been wrong that she was broken from what Milton did to her. She wasn’t. She might be a little banged up and choking on things she didn’t want to voice, but she wasn’t broken, and that…that gave me decidedly mixed feelings.
I no longer just felt responsible for her but was also intrigued by her.
And that wasn’t gonna work because I couldn’t be intrigued.
I didn’t have time to be intrigued. Intrigued led to…other feelings.
Feelings I’d done my best to convince myself were never there.
Feelings I definitely had no business feeling: that tightening in my chest. That rush of endorphins and surge of testosterone snarling with unpermitted possession.
For God’s sake, I’d only had one conversation with the woman, and I was already contemplating going over there and telling her everything.
I’d always known I was a goody-two shoes. I’d never been able to lie or steal or break even the smallest of rules. But it wasn’t just the well-behaved doctor inside me needing to confess what I’d done but the very real, suddenly very protective part of me that didn’t want anyone else to know just how incredible she was.
Goddammit, this is bad.
Nursing my small icy glass of Johnny Walker, I watched from my living room window as the two police officers stepped out of Sailor’s front door and headed toward their cruiser parked across her driveway.
At the last second, they cut down the footpath, onto my property, and rang my doorbell.
Christ, could this get any worse?
What gave me away?
How had they figured it was me so fast?
Should I call a lawyer?
Throwing the rest of my drink down my throat, I hoped like hell I didn’t smell like alcohol at two o’clock in the afternoon. Raking my hands through unruly red hair, I straightened my glasses, smoothed my grey t-shirt, and strolled to the door as if I wasn’t about to explode inside.
“Can I help you, officers?” I pinned a polite smile on my lips as I swung my door wide and employed every trick I’d ever been taught to hide my true feelings. I’d gotten enough practice delivering bad news in the waiting room. I’d learned how to block myself as a person and become nothing more than the stoic, compassionate doctor my patients needed.
I didn’t move a muscle as the two officers, one man with receding brown hair and one with a beer belly, returned my smile and rested their hands on their hips. The bulk of their tool belts full of weapons and walkie-talkies made my mouth go dry.
“Do you know your neighbour Sailor Rose?” the balding one asked.
“Of course. Our grandparents were best friends. We’ve grown up together.”
“Oh, so you know her well?” Beer Belly perked up.
“I wouldn’t say that. We’re acquaintances. Why, did something happen?”
Be cool. Be cool.
“Did you see a strange man drop a cell phone into her letterbox, either yesterday or today?”
I shrugged with as much innocence as possible. “I’m sorry, no. I work at the local hospital, and my shifts are long. I didn’t get home until nine thirty last night and slept in for my shift later tonight.” I grinned. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to do much else than work these days.”
The older one smiled. “I’m aware of how hard you work. I’ve seen you in the ER. You’re a great doctor. Always go above and beyond on the cases we bring in.”
True appreciation made me stand a little straighter. “That means a lot. Thanks.”
It would truly suck if this nice blue-collar worker arrested me.
They didn’t speak for a while. My heart rate went berserk. Finally, Beer Belly said, “Well, if you see anyone who doesn’t belong in the neighbourhood, please give us a call.” He passed me a business card.
I took it with a frown. “Is Sailor okay? Did something happen?”
“Oh, nothing to worry about. Have a good day, Dr North.”
I ignored the worrying pinch that they knew my name and did my best to convince myself it was because they knew me from the hospital. I’d even patched up a few of their fellow officers when arrests and callouts went bad.
They definitely didn’t know my name because I’d bought a phone and pretended to be a masked vigilante desperately trying to get the damsel to talk to him.
“You too.” I nodded. Retreating inside, I closed the door and watched them climb into their cruiser and drive away. The second they were gone, I took the stairs two at a time and sprinted to my bedroom window.
Sailor’s bedroom was empty, just like it had been for a few days now. A glimpse of her in Melody’s room—that’d been stripped of furniture and had gotten a new lick of paint—hinted she’d finally decided to claim the house as hers.
She balanced at the top of a ladder, adding paint to the corners of the ceiling.
My heart rate calmed a little.
At least she was okay.
At least my attempt at helping her hadn’t backfired and made her worse.
Fuck.
This was a good thing. A great thing. She’d called the police because she was smart. She’d let them take the cell phone away, which meant I was safe from doing anything else immensely wrong.
She’d be okay without me.
She’d heal on her own.
After all, I’d already proven I had no experience with heart-to-hearts. I’d barely been able to keep my identity hidden on the first volley of messages.
I’d had to lie within the first few texts by telling her I saw her in the ambulance, which actually…wasn’t totally a lie. I’d seen her in the ambulance, just being unloaded at the hospital, not loaded in the street.
But that’s beside the point.
I’d stepped over a line.
And now that line had been reinforced.
I would forget all about my attempt at helping and leave her the hell alone.
* * * * *
“Fancy coming over for a beer tonight?” Colin asked, throwing me a look as we both took a twenty-minute break for lunch three days later in his office.
Finishing my chicken wrap, I tossed the wrapper into the trash and took a swig of sparkling water. “That could work. I was supposed to come in tomorrow, but the planned surgery has been pushed back.”
“Good, it’s a date.” He finished his sesame beef salad and closed the container. “You’re looking a bit more haggard than usual. Anything I should know about?”
Screwing on the bottle cap, I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Said like a guilty criminal.”
I smirked. “Guilty? What am I guilty of?”
“Oh, I dunno. Perving on your hot little neighbour?”
I dropped my bottle. Thank God the cap was on; otherwise, I’d be wearing most of it.
Colin burst out laughing. “No comment, hey? You’ve finally given in to your dirty little habit. Have you asked her out yet? Remember my threat? If you don’t do it, I’ll do it for you.”
My cheeks erupted with fire. I’d never cursed being a redhead as much as I did at that moment. I’d been lucky to avoid the freckles decorating my sisters and most days my hair could be taken for deep auburn instead of anything on the crimson colour palette, but right now, my natural skin colouring gave me away.
Colin quit laughing as I choked. Literally choked on spit and deliberated bolting for the door.
“Wow, I…I’m kidding, Zan. No need to have a heart attack.” Leaning over his desk, he looked genuinely concerned for my well-being. “Are you alright, man? I mean, I’ve seen you wound up before, but this…this is something else. Did you lose a patient or something?”
Groaning, I took off my glasses and tossed them on his desk. Digging my fingers in my tired eyes, I refused to look at him. “Just…it’s been a long week, that’s all.”
“It’s Tuesday.”
“Is it?” I didn’t look up. “Feels like an endless Monday, then.”
“What’s going on? Fess up.”
Dropping my hand, I blinked back the stars I’d left on my eyesight and did my best to lie to a friend who was basically a savant in lie detection. “Nothing’s going on.”
My phone beeped.
I sat ramrod in my chair, not because the alert was for a patient or another work call but because I’d assigned that noise to one person. A person I didn’t think I’d ever hear from again.
One second, I convinced myself I had no intention of reading it.
The next, I practically threw myself off my chair, fumbling for my phone from my back pocket.
Ignoring Colin, I swiped on the screen and clicked on the new message.
LL: A secret, huh?
Full-body shakes had my thumbs punching the screen far too fast.
Me: No one else has to know.
LL: And you won’t murder me?
Me: If I was going to, wouldn’t I have popped around by now? After all, you did call the police on me.
Shit!
Fuck!
Unsend. Unsend.
Too late.
LL: How do you know I called the police?
Hanging my head, I deliberated how to dig myself out of this shit hole. I couldn’t confess who I was. If she wanted me to be her secret, I’d be her goddamn secret. But I also couldn’t admit that I watched her from my house far more often than was normal, legal, or acceptable.
LL: Is your delay because you’re trying to come up with a lie or confess the truth?
Goddamn, this girl.
This was going to end so very, very badly for me.
She was scarily smart and almost as perceptive as Colin.
And look how well I held my own around him.
Sweat rolled down my spine beneath my scrubs as I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
Me: I have a camera in your house.
“You what ?” Colin screeched, snatching my phone out of my hands and scrolling his way through the message thread.
Ah, Christ.
How had I not noticed him looming over me? What possessed me to say I had a camera in her house?
What am I doing?!!!!!
In one message, I’d gone from a creepy idiot who’d gifted her a cell phone to full-blown home invasion stalker.
Colin’s face went white. His dark brown hair flopped over his forehead as he peered at the screen. “What the fuck is this, Zan? What—”
“Give it back.” Leaping to my feet, I snatched the phone out of his hand. I hated that I was more desperate to read Sailor’s reply than to assure my best friend that I wasn’t crazy.
LL: And this is where I call the police again.
Me: Wait!
“Zander…you’ve got to start talking. Otherwise—”
“Give me two seconds.”
Tapping back a reply, I hoped to every deity in the universe that I wasn’t fucking up everything I’d worked so hard for.
Me: I meant outside your house. I have a camera outside your house.
Not technically a lie.
LL: And you think that’s appropriate? What are you? Some kind of pervert?
Me: No. I told you. I will never hurt you. I will never take advantage of you.
LL: You just watch me instead .
“Zander…talk to me. Right now.” Colin crossed his arms.
I didn’t bother looking up.
Me: I use it to make sure you’re safe. That’s all.
She didn’t reply.
Of course, she didn’t fucking reply.
My pulse pounded in my ears as I waited and waited, and when the phone remained silent, I sucked in a huge breath and turned to face Colin.
As expected, his eyes glinted with fear for my mental health, all while anger rippled down his arms as if to punch me. “Tell me. Right now. What are you doing?”
This was why I never put myself out there. Why I focused on helping others with scalpels and surgeries. I was better when bound by textbooks and things I’d learned through repetition and study. The second I went off script, I messed up.
Gran always said I was too impulsive, too eager. Each time I’d tried to help a sick bird or attempted backyard medicine on a friend from school, I always made matters worse.
And this cannot get much worse.
“You have three seconds, or I’m admitting you to the psych ward on an involuntary hold.”
Sinking back into my chair, I held my head in my hands and did what I always did around him. I blurted the truth because he always heard a lie.
“A week or so ago, I angled my home security cameras to face Sailor’s house. She’s not doing well. She’s not talking to her friend and has no other support. I saw her crying one night in the garden and…I made a stupid decision to give her someone to talk to.”
His tension bled out slowly. Moving behind his desk, he sat down and cupped his chin in his hand like a shrink charging me five hundred dollars an hour. “Go on.”
“She’s not talking to a psychologist—or at least not one I know of. I know they say it’s easier for people to talk to strangers about this sort of thing. More so than with loved ones. Impartiality is helpful to voice all those tangled thoughts. So…I tried to be that person for her.”
“Okay…that doesn’t sound so bad.” He dropped his hand. “Anything else?”
“She called the police.”
He sucked in a breath. “She knew it was you?”
“No…but they knocked on my door—”
“Jesus, Zan—”
“But only to ask if I’d seen the man who dropped off the phone in her letterbox. I-I was careful. I thought she’d handed it over because she hadn’t messaged me since, but it turns out…she kept it.” And I hated the twitch in my chest because of that. “I-I bought it with cash and—”
“And you’re using your own phone number to message her. Do you not watch any movies? They can track you that way.”
That’s it then.
I’m screwed.
“Oh.” My head tipped down.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Zan. This could get very bad very, very quickly.”
“It’s already bad.”
He nodded with a wince. “It kinda is.” His lips pursed. “But you did it for the right reasons. And I’m actually rather proud of you.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve boxed yourself in with work for so long. You’ve never done something off script like this. I see what you’re doing. You use work to keep yourself from getting messy, but I hate to tell you, mate, this is way messier than just asking her out for a drink like I suggested.”
A strained chuckle fell out of me. “Yeah, I know.”
“I wonder why she didn’t hand the phone to the police?”
“No idea.”
“If she does and they track your number, you’ll probably lose your job.”
“I know that too.”
“Even if you stopped now, you’re already in way over your head.”
“I know. Wait.” I stiffened. “ If I stop now? Shouldn’t you be telling me to cease all contact immediately?”
His gaze darted over mine, churning with thoughts. “Tell me why you’re doing this. Is it because you feel responsible for her because you’re a doctor and she’s the bruised little granddaughter next door? Or…”
I didn’t want to ask. “Or?”
“Are you perhaps waking up to the fact that you actually like this girl? That you’ve liked her for years. And not because you were told to by your gran but because you get that certain kind of feeling whenever you look at her.”
“What certain kind of feeling?”
“If I have to describe it, then it isn’t it.”
“Why are you so annoying?” I crossed my arms. “I’ve never disliked you more than I do right now.”
He chuckled. “Answer the question.”
“Or what? Still threatening to put me in a straitjacket?”
“No, I’m trying to decide if I’ll help you or not.”
“Help me?” I shot to my feet. “You can’t be serious. You should throw my phone in the river and tell me to stop destroying my career.”
He stood too. Moving toward me, he clapped me on the shoulder. “Perhaps you won’t destroy your career. Maybe this is you attempting to have a life. Finally.”
“By stalking a vulnerable girl who almost died.”
“Hey, nobody’s perfect.”
“This isn’t a joke, Col.”
He went serious. “No, it’s not. And I won’t lie to you that it could get out of hand and end in some serious legal complications, but…” He sighed. “ But if you truly want her to heal and she has no one else, then…she needs you. And frankly, you need her. So I’m in. I have your back. I’ll help you so you don’t royally fuck this up, but my help does come with a time limit.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, I agree that it sounds as if she needs someone impartial to get over this initial hump of healing, but the second she’s finding herself again, you have to tell her. Alright? You have to be honest that it’s you behind the screen. Who knows, she might already be madly in love with you by then and think it’s adorable.”
“Or hate my guts so much that I have to move to Australia.”
“That’s a big possibility.”
I groaned. “Fuck, this is a disaster.”
“Welcome to the world of dating, my friend.” Patting my cheek, he headed toward the door. “I have to go. A patient is waiting. But this conversation isn’t over. See you tonight for that beer. Don’t be late.”