51. Maya
Maya
When dad and I landed at LAX, and I finally had phone service again, I had called Dani seven times before she answered, asking if her step-dad had any contacts in the Los Angeles area that could get to Ross Booker’s house.
I explained what was happening and that we needed to contact people we could trust, not anyone who could’ve potentially been paid off by Ross over the years.
We don’t know how deep his connections run, and didn’t want to take a chance with the local authorities.
Luckily, Paul Kingston was able to call some contacts higher up in the local law enforcement that could be trusted, and ensured us they were in route.
I was kicking myself for not thinking of Dani’s FBI step-father sooner, knowing he was our best chance of getting authorities uncorrupted by Ross involved.
Dad and I got a rental car and sped all the way to the address Jamie sent me before his phone died. The entire five hour flight here, I couldn’t sit still, and my dad had to keep telling me everything was going to be okay.
We were waiting on the street, outside the gate of Ross Booker’s house for Paul’s men to arrive when we heard shouts and banging coming from inside—as if someone was pounding on a door to be let in.
My eyes grew wide with fear as I looked at my dad, knowing whatever’s happening in there cannot be good. I didn’t even have to say anything and my dad knew exactly what I was thinking.
“No, Maya. You aren’t going in there. The police will be here any minute.”
The banging continued, and my dad pulled his phone out to call Paul again, trying to see how much longer before his contacts arrive.
Suddenly, the sounds stopped, and my blood turned to ice in my veins, knowing that meant whatever barrier was separating Ross from what he wanted was gone. With my dad distracted, I ran for the gate to the mansion, typing in the code Jamie sent me and sprinting for the front door.
I knew I was making a reckless decision. I knew I was putting myself in danger, but I didn’t care, if my alternative was to stand out here and do nothing while Jamie suffered another minute in this fucking house.
My dad cursed and chased after me up to the house. I put in the code again at the front door, disabling the locks and swung it open with a loud bang against the wall.
My dad continued to shout after me, and I heard the faint sound of sirens coming our way. But I heard more shouts from upstairs, and I ran without second thought, calling Jamie’s name.
Everything that happened after was a blur. I ran upstairs, Ross broke Jamie’s arm, and all of a sudden he was lying at the bottom of the stair case, not moving.
Now, the three of us are being led outside to a couple of ambulances, along with a frail looking girl with blonde hair who’s sobbing hysterically.
My dad speaks to the police, giving them his statement about what happened inside the house, and how Ross ended up on the floor.
Jamie’s eyes are dazed and unfocused. He hasn’t spoken a word since we left the house. The paramedics put a sling on his arm and the police have tried to get him to make a statement, but he seems to be incapable of doing anything except holding my hand.
I ride with Jamie to the hospital, Dad following in the rental car. Once we arrive, the nurses offer to give Jamie something for the pain, but he refuses, saying he doesn’t want any drugs, and my heart breaks that that is the first sentence he’s spoken all day.
When they finally take him back for scans, my dad and I talk to the investigators.
I show them the recording of the video call I got from Jamie that lead to us flying out here in the first place.
I explain everything Jamie’s ever told me about how he grew up—in excruciating detail. Dad fills in the gaps where he can.
Finally, the officers leave, saying they’ll be back in the morning to talk to Jamie after he’s rested.
When they bring him back to the hospital room from all his testing, the three of us sit in silence, finally processing everything that happened.
Jamie lies back on the stack of flat sterile pillows with his eyes shut, having reclaimed his hold on my hand, and appears to have no desire to let go any time soon.
The next morning, a soft knock on the door makes Jamie jump awake from the fitful sleep he was in. At some point, I had climbed up in the bed next to him, and my dad had fallen asleep on the narrow couch under the window.
“Jameson?” a quiet, pleasant voice asks as the door opens to reveal a sweet looking older nurse and a woman in a white coat. “Good morning. I’m Dr. Amy Gonzalez, one of the orthopedic surgeons here, and this is Melissa, the charge nurse.”
“Hi,” Jamie greets as he sits up in the bed. I climb down, joining my dad on the couch to get out of the way.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything, dear?” Melissa asks. “I can get you Tylenol; the pain medication doesn’t have to be an opioid.” Her tone is gentle as she takes in Jamie’s bruised face and immobilized arm.
“No, thank you. I’m alright.”
The nurse nods, logging into the computer to update his chart as Dr. Gonzalez speaks. “I’d like to go over the results of your x-rays and MRI, if you’re comfortable with that at the moment?” She looks to my father and I, silently inquiring to Jamie if he would like for us to stay or go.
“Yeah, that’s fine. They can stay,” he says, fiddling with the bed sheets with his left hand now that he doesn’t have mine in his grasp.
“Okay,” the doctor begins, and Melissa pulls up a black and white image of Jamie’s shoulder on the computer screen. “I’m going to explain what we found and what it all means. Stop me if I’m going too fast, alright?” When Jamie nods, she continues.
“Your shoulder was dislocated anteriorly, meaning your arm came out of socket in a frontward direction. From what I understand about how the incident occurred, it was quite a forceful injury,” the doctor pauses, making sure nothing’s she’s said so far is going to make Jamie upset.
“With a dislocation in any direction, you can get a labral tear, which is essentially the ring of tissue that surrounds your humerus in the socket. With the mechanism your shoulder was injured, you not only have a labral tear, but also a tear of one of your rotator cuff tendons—the supraspinatus tendon—right here at the top of your shoulder.” Dr. Gonzalez points to the top of the black and white image.
I can obviously see that Jamie’s shoulder is not where it needs to be in the picture, but it’s the rest of what she said that my mind fixates on. Tear.
Next to me, my dad rubs a hand down his face, knowing a tear of any kind means surgery and a long recovery, and Jamie was supposed to start practicing with the Flyers after graduation.
Jamie’s jaw clenches as he listens to the doctor speak, talking about putting his shoulder back in place and having surgery to repair the tears.
She also mentions he’s got a fractured nose, but it’s not displaced, so it should heal straight on its own.
Finally, she says aside from being dehydrated, he has no other internal injuries to worry about.
He’s bruised all over, but no serious damage was done to any vital organs.
“We also found lots of…older injuries. Breaks that seemed to have healed themselves and scar tissue build up in a few places. All of which point to numerous injuries during and after your developmental years…” she trails off as Jamie looks out the window, his nose wrinkling as he fights off whatever emotions he’s feeling in this moment.
“I’m telling you this so you know: it will all be used in your case.
Medical evidence that you endured of years of domestic violence and abuse…
but you’re safe now. You aren’t in trouble.
They know you’re the victim here, and we’re on your side. ”
When she finishes talking, she asks Jamie if he has any questions for her.
“What about the girl?” he asks, turning back to face her, and she looks startled, not having expected him to breeze over his own injuries so quickly. “The girl they found at the house with me. Is she okay?”
Dr. Gonzalez’s smile is full of sadness and pity. “I can’t tell you about her without violating lots of laws, but I’ll let her know you asked about her, and maybe the two of you can talk soon.”
Jamie nods, looking slightly pale. Dr. Gonzalez tells Jamie she will get his surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning, and takes her leave, Melissa saying she’ll call to have breakfast sent up before following the doctor out the door.