"Is she pregnant again?" Sam asked.
"Not as far as I can tell. It's always possible, given the circumstances. She'll need a follow up in a few weeks. I want you to make an appointment with the women's clinic."
Sam gave him a steady, calm look, making the doctor squirm. "She won't go. You already know that."
"I have to say it, kid."
"Don't call me a kid—ever." It was his turn to advance on the doctor. "Don't patronize me. You know nothing about me except what you think you see. You assume a hell of a lot, Doc. I'm dirty and I stink, cause I've been chasing Emma for two days as she party hopped. She called me from this one—finally—in the one lucid moment she had before some guy drugged her up. She cried for help like she always does. So I went for her, like I always do. I find her, bring her here and listen to one of you successful, established, pampered, opinionated twats explain to me how it's my fault!
"Well, it's not my fault! It's Emma's fault! And I'm here, like always, picking up the pieces of her life. So don't give me anymore shit, Doc! About me drugging her, raping her or anything else you want to throw my way. Cause I'll throw that shit right back at you." He looked almost ready to hit the doctor, his body erect, rigid, furious.
Attracted by the noise, an orderly put his head in the room. He was huge, about 6'3" and 200 pounds of solid muscle. He gave Sam a look, then glanced at the doctor. Although much smaller, Sam was certainly threatening.
"Everything okay, Doc?"
"It's fine, Chet."
"Want me to stay?"
"You think he needs protection from the skinny crack head? Is that it? You don't scare me, Chet. I've taken out guys bigger than you. Bring it." He took a defensive stance.
"Enough!" Rosalee inserted herself between them. "No one is bringing anything. Clifton, apologize."
"What? Me?"
"You. He's straight up. You're talking all kinds of shit. Look at him," she demanded. "At him, beneath the exterior. What do you see?"
The doctor shrugged, crossing his arms as he stroked his chin.
"I'll tell you what I see," Rosalee continued. "A frightened child, who has grown up far too quickly. A man in a boy's body, taking care of a girl who doesn't have any self-worth. If you see anything different, you can go."
The doctor and orderly exchanged a look. One glance at Sammy told them he'd take both of them down, or die fighting. Rosalee was right. In all the years he'd know her, Clifton Rivers had never seen Rosalee Spenser wrong. He relaxed, asking Chet to step out. Reluctantly, the orderly left the room.
"I'll be right here if you need me."
Sammy visibly relaxed when Chet left.
"I'm sorry, ki... Sam." The doctor said quietly. "I made an assumption."
"Everyone always does," the young man replied with a sigh. "So, what about Emma?"
"I think she'd better stay with us a couple of days. She's dehydrated, and God knows what's in her system."
"Can you Baker Act her?" The boy clearly knew how the system was supposed to work.
"You think she's...."
"A danger to herself?" Sam finished for him. "How many times in the last month have we been here?"
"I haven't seen you every time. I'm not sure."
"Four, in thirty days. She has a problem. She needs treatment. Please. She needs out of that environment—now, today."
©2020 Dellani Oakes
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