Chapter 6
Lazarus~
I was nervous, and that was saying something.
After having spent the last twenty years dealing with the mentally disturbed, you’d think that nothing would phase me anymore, but when I had returned from that disaster with Elisabeth, Bodhi Salmen had greeted me with a smile, already aware that Elisabeth had agreed to meet him this evening, and a cold slither of dread had danced down my spine, and I hadn’t been able to shake it all fucking day long.
I was also self-centered enough to replay my conversation with Elisabeth over and over in my head, and I hated how she had called me Russ when she had called me Lazarus all night that night.
Now, growing up, I hadn’t been a fan of my first name, and truth be told, I still wasn’t because it was too biblical for my liking.
However, Elisabeth had said it with such reverence during our night together, and so hearing her call me Russ so dismissively was fucking with me.
You’re the one who fucked up, remember?
Having known Elisabeth for years, I hadn’t ever imagined that we’d end up in bed together because she’d always behaved so professionally, and she had also come across as a bit aloof.
However, we’d both been attending a conference in town, then afterwards, we’d met at the bar for dinner, and after one thing had led to another, I had reserved a room at the hotel, and Elisabeth had spent all night making me glad that I’d been born a man.
Then, like a certified jackass, I’d been holding the woman in my arms when I’d begun questioning her choice of patients, judging them as crazy because their afflictions had come with a side dish of religion that I’d never been interested in or could quite comprehend.
So, instead of commending her for treating the most difficult of mental disorders, I had insulted her, and I’d never had a woman leave my bed so fucking fast.
She had also refused to answer any of my calls or reply to my numerous texts afterwards, and if anything could be said about Elisabeth Batya, it couldn’t be said that the woman didn’t know her own mind.
There’d been no second chance with her, and it didn’t matter that my chest still ached whenever I thought about that night or how I fucked up so badly.
Just then, my office phone buzzed, and when I hit the intercom button, our swing shift receptionist’s voice came through the speaker. “Dr. Copeland, Dr. Elisabeth Batya is here to see you,” Deidra announced. “You said to buzz you as soon as she arrived.”
“Yes, thank you,” I replied, my heart beating a little bit faster. “I’ll be right there, Deidra.”
With the building being a five-story state-of-the-art structure, it had taken me a full three minutes before my feet hit the lobby, all the doctors’ offices located on the fourth floor.
The top floor was for the hospital’s administration, the third and second floors were where our patients were housed, and the first floor was the lobby, cafeteria, intake rooms, maintenance, security, and things like that.
When I walked into the lobby, I found Elisabeth reading our mission statement as she waited for me, and from knowing her for so long, I knew that this was the first time that she’d ever been here.
I also knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t impressed with fancy, so while this place really was high-tech and sleek-looking, she obviously preferred that fortress where she worked.
“Lissa, thanks for coming,” I said, greeting her.
She turned that hazel gaze my way, saying, “I said that I would.”
Okay.
“Since I don’t consider him dangerous at this point, before I went to see you, I housed him on the second floor,” I told her as I gestured towards the elevators. “The third floor is for our more volatile patients, making them easier to reach from the physicians’ floor.”
Not caring a lick how The Knights Group worked, once we entered the elevator, she asked, “Does he know that I’m coming?”
“Yes,” I answered. “In fact, he knew before I’d even told him.”
Elisabeth looked up at me. “You do know that it was a fifty-fifty guess, right?”
“I’m aware,” I drawled out. “But...you’ll know what I mean once you meet him. He’s...he’s different, Lissa.”
“No, he’s not,” she insisted. “They never are, Russ.”
“Will you quit calling me that,” I bit out, letting the frustration of this entire situation get to me.
Her brows knitted in confusion. “What? Russ? Isn’t that your name?”
“My name is Lazarus,” I replied. “Something that you know very well.”
Fire sparked in those beautiful eyes of hers as she said, “Bring up that night again, and I will walk out the door. I’m not kidding, either.”
I threw my hands up in mock surrender just as the elevator stopped on the second floor. “Sorry,” I quickly rushed out, needing her more than she could possibly know. “I won’t bring it up again.”
As we exited the elevator, Elisabeth chose to move past my fuck-up, asking, “Am I meeting him alone, or are you going to be in the room with us?”
“I thought that it’d be best if you met with him alone at first...you know, to get a feel for him without any outside influences or interference,” I suggested. “I could always join you after you’ve spoken to him a while.”
“And what’s the gameplan after this?” she asked. “You’ve asked me to come here to evaluate him, but what happens after I’ve given my assessment? Do you transfer him to St. Dymphna? Do you let him live his life out here in peace since he’s a walk-in? What? What happens next, Russ?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” I admitted.
Elisabeth stopped walking. “Why does he have you so spooked, Russ? And don’t bullshit me about his eyes or whatever. What made you go see me?”
Looking around, I spotted a medicinal room, then I grabbed her by her arm, dragging her behind me for some privacy. While I knew that she probably didn’t appreciate my hands on her, I also didn’t want to have this conversation in the hallway where anyone could overhear.
Shutting us in the room together, I said, “He mentioned nightmares that I used to have as a kid. He asked me how I was sleeping these days.”
The woman looked unimpressed again. “You’re a physician who treats the mentally disturbed, so it’d stand to reason that you might not sleep well.
Plus, all kids have nightmares, Russ. Did he go into detail about your nightmares?
Was he able to specifically outline them?
Or was it another broad generalization?”
I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. “Why don’t you believe me? I’d think that you-of all people-would approach this with an opened mind.”
“You’re such a fucking asshole,” she spat.
“This isn’t a goddamn circus act, Russ. I don’t treat these people for entertainment purposes or because they’re a challenge.
I chose religious-based disorders because I believe in God, and I want to know why and where their delusions come from.
I want to know if it’s really a mental disorder or if everything that I’ve been raised to believe is real.
Not only do I want to help my patients, but I want to learn from them also.
I will never turn away an angel because I’m dismissing the host as crazy.
However, I’ve also been doing this for enough years to know that there is always an explanation for the unexplainable. You just have to look deep enough.”
“Okay, stop,” I ordered, placing my hands on her shoulders.
“I didn’t mean it that way, just like I didn’t mean it that way when I asked you why you chose religion as your preferred discipline.
I just...I just want to understand you, Lissa.
That’s all that I’ve ever wanted. I just want to know you. ”
Instead of acknowledging my apology, she said, “Get your hands off me.”
Again, I threw my hands up in mock surrender, wondering why only this woman could drive me so fucking crazy by just being nearby. “Sorry.”
We stayed silent for a few seconds, the both of us trying to calm down, and I really had no idea how I kept fucking up with this woman.
Three months later, and I still acted like a clumsy frat boy around her, and I had no idea why.
It was like she’d woven a spell over me that night, and it also felt like she was the only thing that could break it.
“Okay, just...we’ll do it your way, and I’ll speak with him alone at first, then we can go from there,” she said, and I couldn’t describe how happy I was that she wasn’t walking out on me again.
“Do you want me to move him to an observation room, or do you feel comfortable meeting with him in his room?” I asked, sticking with business.
“An observation room,” she answered. “Normally, I’d be fine with what makes the patient comfortable, but since he referred to me by name, I’d like witnesses nearby and a recording of everything just in case things become violent.”
That had my back straightening. “Because you really think that I’d let anything happen to you?”
“Because I’ve been doing this for twenty years, and it wouldn’t be the first time that I’d gotten stitches because of a patient’s outburst,” she retorted coolly.
Not liking knowing that, I just said, “Okay, then let’s go.”
Yeah, this fucking sucked.