Chapter 7 #2
“Is she alright?” I ask, then wonder, “How did they know to call you?”
Rachel looks at me like I’m an idiot. Again.
“I gave all my colleagues Marissa’s description and told them to keep an eye out. No questions asked.”
“Thanks, Rach. I mean it.”
She doesn’t look up from Junior’s face. “Let’s head over there right now.”
“Give me a second,” I say, and run over to where Rebel is talking to Prez to tell them the good news.
“Bring her to the clubhouse when she’s discharged,” Prez orders. “We need to find out who’s behind this.”
“What if she’s unwell or wants to go home? Can we interrogate her there?”
“Tell her it’s unsafe until we get who did this.”
I nod. He’s not wrong. I glance over at Rebel to see how she feels about this.
“She understands,” Prez says sternly. “Don’t you, Bell? This is club business.”
“Of course,” she nods obediently. “I know the deal.”
I exhale. “Can you watch Junior while Rachel and I head over there to see if it’s her?”
“Shouldn’t you take him to see his mother?”
“What if she’s in a bad state?” I whisper, as if saying the words out loud will make them true.
“He’s a baby, it’s not like he knows,” Rebel says, and I pray she’s right. “Besides, I made plans to hang out with Claw and Maya later,” she adds regretfully.
Rachel suggests that she drive while I sit in the back with Junior, and I’m beyond grateful. She can talk to me like I’m an idiot whenever she wants. I owe her forever.
I glance over at my little man in his car seat. I wonder how he will react to seeing his mom again. My throat kinda hurts at the thought.
Junior and I wait on a chair while Rachel talks to her colleague in the corner. She comes back beaming.
“It’s her. She’s told them her name and info. We can go see her now. Her doctor will explain the rest. She apparently had a fever-induced seizure but is otherwise okay,” Rachel says, and I can only nod.
“I’ll give the three of you some time first,” she says in front of room 4S27.
“Thank you, Rachel. For everything,” I say, and she looks away, teary-eyed.
Marissa's wearing a hospital gown and looks weak and pale, but seeing her in one piece fills me with unimaginable relief. As soon as she notices us at the door, she sits up and starts sobbing.
Her hands are reaching for DJ, who is already screaming his head off and kicking his little legs, trying to get to her. The reunion between the two of them is unlike anything I’ve ever seen in my life.
My nose stings, and I wipe my own tears away. Marissa is talking to DJ in a quiet, urgent voice, and I can only make out every third or fourth word, but they all seem to be utterances of love, reassurance, safety, and joy. He’s sprawled out over her upper body like a starfish.
“Welcome back,” I say with a smile.
Marissa seems startled by my voice, like she’d forgotten I was even here.
“Hey,” she replies… coldly?
I frown.
“I’m so glad to see you,” I start over. “Are you okay? What happened?”
She closes her eyes, and her face is lined with exhaustion. I’m afraid of her answer, but the door opening spares me for another minute.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Rachel tells us with a sympathetic expression as she approaches the bed. “But Marissa's doctor wanted a word with you guys.”
An older, stern-looking man with a gray goatee is standing next to her, frowning at a chart. “Miss Johnson, is it?”
Marissa nods. “Yes.”
“I’m Doctor Phillips. Says here you don’t know how you got to the hospital,” he says, and I look at her intently, willing her not to say anything.
Marissa must get the message because she says, “I remember feeling ill. But the rest is a blur.”
The doctor then looks at me. “Could I have a minute alone with the patient, please?”
I frown. “What? Why?”
He sighs as he rolls his eyes. “I need to examine the patient’s body. Could you please give us the room?”
“I’m her…” I start to say ol’ man, but that doesn’t mean anything to a doctor, does it?
“I’ll stay with her, don’t worry,” Rachel reassures me.
I reluctantly step towards the bed to take DJ, but Marissa shakes her head frantically. “Please, don’t take him.”
I look at his face and see that the little asshole is sleeping.
I put both of my hands up to show I surrender. “As long as the Doctor says he can stay,” I say as I look at the man in question.
He nods.
I leave the room, and ten minutes later, the Doctor exits.
“Is she alright?” I immediately approach him.
“Apart from the memory loss,” he says in a way that very clearly conveys his thoughts on it, “Miss Johnson’s only health problem is of the mastitis variety.”
I vaguely remember her complaining about it some months ago.
“So, it’s nothing serious?”
The old fart purses his lips together disapprovingly.
“It is quite serious. It’s evolved into an abscess which we’ve had to drain, she’s seized from the fever, and will have to be on heavy-duty antibiotics for the next ten days.
Make sure she doesn’t exert herself physically or emotionally over the next few weeks.
I don’t know why this has been left untreated for so long.
She would have been in pain for days. We did a tox screen and all kinds of bloodwork, and apart from the mastitis, she seems fine. The rest I have no control over.”
He seems like a guy who’s seen some shit. I nod, my respect for him stronger now.
“Thanks, Doc. I’ll take it from here.”
He sighs like he doesn’t believe it and leaves.
Rachel and Marissa are whispering, their heads close together, when I come in. Marissa looks like she’s been crying again, but maybe that’s just the exhaustion.
She keeps avoiding my eyes for some reason. The doctor didn’t say anything about rape, but that doesn’t mean that whoever took her didn’t do stuff to her. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought.
“Were you crying?” I blurt out.
Marissa’s eyes widen, and she nods.
“Why?”
Her eyelids flutter, and then her face closes off. I want to know what she is thinking.
“The doctor told me the antibiotics they gave me aren’t compatible with breastfeeding.”
“I’ll go ask about checking yourself out, okay?” Rachel tells her and leaves the three of us alone in the room.
Marissa keeps smelling Junior’s head and stroking his back. His little body is relaxed, and it seems that he’s making up for all the sleep he’s missed since she’s been gone.
“Listen, Riss,” I say carefully, getting ready to ask her about whatever happened to her, but she interrupts.
“There was a man there with me,” she says, her tone urgent as if she’s just remembering it. “I have to call his people!”
I frown. “They kidnapped someone else with you?”
“He was already there when they took me; it doesn’t matter. I have to help his friends find him, or he’ll get killed.”
That’s about the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. There is no way in hell I’ll let her further involve herself with whatever this mess is.
But I’m smart enough not to say that. Instead, I nod.
“When we get to the clubhouse, we’ll tell the Prez about it, and the club will take care of it. I don’t want you putting yourself in any more danger.”