The Cardinal Bird - Book 1: Reverse Harem Series (The Cardinal Series) Page 12

  I was just toweling dry when there was a knock at the door. My heart thumped rapidly until I heard CJ’s voice.

  "I have some more clothes for you in case you don't want to put the others back on."

  I glanced down at the pile on the floor. I had only worn the pants and button-up for the trip from the van to here, but I didn't relish the thought of putting them back on. I wanted to burn them. I could still smell faint traces of the tank on them--especially the boxers, and it just brought up bad memories. I shook my head to stop the flashbacks.

  Instead of answering him, I wrapped the towel around me and walked to the door, cracking it open.

  CJ’s hand shot in, and I grabbed the clothes. There were a big, blue t-shirt and some red basketball shorts. I put them on quickly and tightened the string around my hips. I avoided my reflection, ignored the fact that my dark brown hair needed a serious combing, and just thanked the fact that I had been able to get clean.

  I went back out into the room. Not much had changed and none of the others had shown up, so they must be doing what Jace had directed them to do.

  There was a disembodied, unknown voice. It sounded strange, maybe muffled somewhat. It seemed like the others had been carrying on a conversation with the voice. However, that stopped when I entered, and everyone paused.

  I stood there for a bit before CJ gestured back to the bed in the middle of the floor. I went over to it. Karl helped me ease back onto the bed so that I wouldn't pull anything before he got back to his feet.

  Once I was settled onto the bed, CJ scooted up next to me. He leaned over and flashed me a dimpled smile, his brown eyes turning a warm, caramel color dancing with mirth. "You clean up nice."

  I let out a startled laugh at that before I heard the unknown voice once more. It was coming from a phone on the floor near the bed.

  "Well, well, well, who does that beautiful voice belong to? I’d love to have an in-person office-call as soon as possible."

  As I tried to puzzle out what the person on the phone could mean about wanting an in-person office visit, CJ spoke up. "Doctor, this is Callie. Callie, this is Dr. Scott."

  A doctor?

  "You sound too young to be a doctor," I said carefully. There was a frown on my face. I could feel it because it twinged the bruise from CJ's bump earlier with the van door.

  "Aww, you're too kind Miss Callie," the phone said. "And please, ignore CJ's formality. Call me Duane."

  I didn't know how to take this guy, so I opted not to say anything instead.

  "The silent, mysterious type," Dr. Scott’s raspy, deep voice said. "Consider me intrigued."

  There was a muffled voice as if someone on the other end of the line was talking to Dr. Scott. CJ even snickered, but I was sure that he couldn't understand whatever it was the second voice was saying. I had good hearing, so I had to wonder what it was that CJ was laughing about.

  "Okay," Dr. Scott continued, cheerily. "I hear that you've been shot. You know, you're not supposed to let that happen, Babygirl."

  I smiled, despite myself. I hadn't been to see a doctor after my first kidnapping, but this guy didn't seem at all like what I remembered a doctor was like. He sounded young, confident, and—well…attractive.

  "Alright Callie, I have some questions for you to answer. Just do the best you can and remember that you are protected under patient confidentiality. If you would like the others to step out of the room for some privacy, just say so. I myself have my...nurse with me,"

  CJ snickered again, and a faint sigh of exasperation came through the line along with that second voice again.

  Dr. Scott continued, as bright and cheery as before. "Nurse Payton will be here to ensure that everything stays professional. He's very good at that. He is also sworn to keep anything secret that you wish to remain confidential. Do you understand everything I’ve said so far, Babygirl?"

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Would you like the others to leave the room?”

  "They can stay," I said, looking around at both Karl and CJ. I would rather have them nearby just in case. CJ beamed while Karl stayed stoic.

  "How long ago were you shot?" Dr. Scott asked.

  "About two weeks ago."

  "Okay, and how did you get the shots?"

  My mind flashed to Dell, Ivanov's right-hand man, but I couldn't bring myself to say his name for some reason. "Gun," I deflected shortly and uncomfortably. Would they get angry at me for withholding that information?

  There was a short sigh. "Babygirl, you don’t have to lie. If any of my questions make you uncomfortable, just say so. I only asked because it is protocol to make sure that you are safe now."

  "I'm as safe as I can be. The person that shot me isn't here." Yet. If Ivanov had his way, I’d be getting a visit from his right-hand man soon enough.

  "Good, perfect," Dr. Scott said. "You know the shooter?"

  I froze, the silence stretching out like a resounding lull in conversation after an awkward statement.

  "I only say that because you seemed very sure that they weren't there. You also didn't use past tense when you talked about him. He's alive, then?"

  I intentionally kept my mouth shut this time. Were all doctors moonlighting as detectives?

  Dr. Scott continued on. "How were your wounds initially treated?"

  "Uh, cauterized and wrapped tightly with bandages. I changed the gauze twice a day or whenever they were full of discharge. Then, I'd replace them with cream and fresh bandages."

  "You did this yourself?" he asked patiently.

  "Yes," I said, wary now of how much he was reading between the lines.

  CJ sucked in a quick breath of surprise, but Dr. Scott didn't seem phased. His raspy, deep voice had gradually been growing more serious and professional as the consultation continued, helping to convince me that he was, in fact, a real doctor—though I still had my doubts.

  "Okay, Miss Callie, and how are you feeling now?"

  I paused this time, my answer not coming as quickly. I cataloged myself, making sure to pay attention to what I had ignored. "I feel weak, nauseous, and cold."

  "That's normal considering what you've been through, but it could also be dangerous. When's the last time you ate?"

  I thought back. "I ate about two days ago."

  "What did you have to eat?"

  That came to my mind quickly. "Crackers. Water."

  "And before that?"

  "Three days before that. The same."

  CJ shifted a little, drawing my attention. I glanced at his face. If I didn't know for a fact that he was CJ, I would have assumed he was Jace. His eyes were filled with deep, dark seriousness and losing their inner glow. I swallowed and looked straight up at the ceiling, deciding it was better to not look at anyone.

  "Alright, Callie, you’ve been doing a good job so far," Dr. Scott said. He cleared his throat. "I want you to just keep being honest with me like you have been. Can you do that for me, Callie?"

  My response was delayed because I nodded my head before realizing he couldn't see me. "Yes."

  "Do you purposefully starve yourself?"

  The question caught me off guard. Starve myself?

  I didn't get a chance to fully comprehend the question, let alone give an answer before he was talking again. "I ask because some people that are in a situation like we suspect you were in, feel a lack of control. Some try to take that control back by controlling their weight."

  I shook my head.

  "She's shaking her head, no, Doctor," CJ said.

  "Alright, that's all I need for now on that," Dr. Scott said.

  Pulling out his wallet, Karl walked out the door, shutting it gently behind him.

  "What I'm going to do now, Miss Callie, is ask CJ to look at your wounds for me. I would like to get a gauge of how they are doing. Is that okay with you?"

  "Yes," I said, hearing and feeling the air as Karl returned to the room. He came closer to see what was going on.

  "Alright, if at any time you begin to feel uncomfortable, experience any pain, or would just like to take a break, let us know. CJ, could you look at one of the wounds and describe to me—in detail—what you see?"

  "Sure thing," CJ said helpfully. He raised his hands to pull up my shirt but then hovered over me. He looked to me for permission, and I raised the shirt up myself in answer. Karl leaned closer as well to get a better look.

  CJ had a frown on his face. "Okay, um, the area around the bullet wound is red."

  "Is it swollen?"

  "Definitely," CJ said, getting closer. "It spreads out pretty far too."

  "How far is pretty far?"

  "Across her torso," he said. He rolled up the basketball shorts a bit. "Same for the one on her leg. Almost half of her thigh is swollen. There's also red streaks on her skin that originate from the wounds."

  "There you go," Dr. Scott said. "I knew you had some good descriptive language in you. You're doing a great job, CJ. Now, Miss Callie, it sounds like you have an infection. I'm sorry if you feel like we have broken your privacy by their calling me, but they were worried. And based on what they described where you were found, they had good reason to be."

  They had told him about the tank.

  Dr. Scott paused here, so I cleared my throat to speak up. "It's okay, Dr. Scott."

  "Please," he insisted pleasantly in that raspy voice that somehow managed to sound rolling and smooth all at the same time. "None of those formalities. Call me Duane." He didn't wait on me to reply this time. "Anyway, based on what I'm hearing, it sounds like you have a severe infection, probably caused by an anaerobic bacterium. The streaks across your skin imply that the infection could be spreading to your blood. The concern is that you could be fighting off things like botulism or tetanus at this moment. Have you had your shots updated recently?" he asked.

  I pushed my lip in. "I don't think so."

  Dr. Scott sounded very serious all of a sudden. "This is very important, Callie. When was the last time you remember getting shots?"

  I looked around at the others for some guidance, but they all seemed intent on my answer to his question. "I've, uh, not been to the doctors in years. Not since I was kidnapped."

  For the first time, there was an extended silence from Dr. Scott's side. I got the feeling that didn't happen often. "So we’re talking, what…how many years?" he asked, eventually.

  “Seven years?” I said, fiddling with my hands. I felt like I had done something wrong.

  "Okay," Dr. Scott said. "Well, when we get you back here to the states, I will personally be making sure that you are all caught up on your shots. We can't have you running around carrying the plague, now can we, Babygirl? One typhoid Mary is enough for history, I think. What's your last name? I'll have someone here at Delta run a background check."

  Delta? That sounded like a company or a place. Was it possible that it was the name of the agency that all of these guys worked for? I had never heard of it before.

  Karl spoke up. "No can do, Duane. She's a level 3 gag-order. We can’t involve anyone outside of the mission unless it is an emergency. We could only read you in by proxy since one of your teammates is working on the case. I'll have CJ run the background check since he's already involved. Besides, he’s the best we’ve got at that sort of thing."

  CJ handed me a pencil and paper. I looked at it for a second. I knew what last name they would need if there was actually any record of immunizations...I just hadn't gone by that name in such a long time...

  Jensen, I wrote out carefully, deliberately focusing on the formation of each letter to avoid thinking more about the history behind the word. Quickly, I hand it over to CJ.

  He took it with a small encouraging smile.

  "Okay, Doctor," CJ said.

  "Now, Miss Callie. I'm going to describe some things to look out for with a staph infection. We don't want it to get to that point. Once it's a staph infection, it could turn septic and you would be dead in a few days. I'll describe them to CJ so that he can write them down for you. Are you sure that you won't go to a hospital? You could really use some antibiotics, and I know a doctor in Estonia that would be able to prescribe some to you."

  "No, I'm positive."

  "As your doctor, I strongly disagree with that. However...you can go against medical advice if that is your choice..." I remained silent. "Very well then, Babygirl. Do you have any questions for me before CJ takes me off speaker?"

  I was really surprised by the whole experience. Dr. Scott may not be what I remember doctors were like, but he was quickly becoming what I thought all doctors should be.

  "No, Doc Scott."

  He chuckled at the name I’d heard his teammate call him, the sound dark and full of promise. "That’s better. Although, fair warning, I’ll have you calling me by my first name in no time, Babygirl. Very well then, CJ?"

  "Doc Scott," I blurted out impulsively.

  "Yes?"

  "Thank you."

  "Anytime, Babygirl. I’ll be a doctor for you anytime. Karl, if you could help rewrap her? That's about all you can do at this point. Make sure to use peroxide!"

  "I know, Duane," Karl said, coming forward to do as the doctor ordered.

  CJ picked the phone up and stepped away to write down the symptoms to look out for.

  There was a knock at the door that Karl answered. Brock stood in the doorway taking up most of the frame. Paper crinkled as he held up four large paper bags. Smells of seasoned pork and freshly baked bread once again permeated the air.

  "Sorry it took so long," he said. "Aleks volunteered to fetch the food when I told him about it. He wanted to make sure that we got meat and potatoes and weren’t eating just ‘rabbit food’." He held up a paper tray of cups. "And Jace picked up some coffee as well."

  Karl snatched one of the bags out of his hands, bringing it to his face and inhaling as his eyes closed in bliss. "Ah, sweet food. How I've missed you." He looked back up at the other bags Brock was holding. He grabbed just one cup of coffee after CJ and I declined. "Okay, make sure you guys eat. We'll take shifts starting tonight," he popped a French fry in his mouth, groaning in joy. Then his eyes snapped open, and he pointed his next fry at CJ. "Do you think that you could give us eyes on the streets so that we could get a better warning system if we have trouble heading our way? You know, other than just us loitering around in the lobby or on the sidewalks? We do want to avoid getting arrested while here."

  "Not a lobby," I mumbled to myself. "It’s not a hotel."

  With the phone still to his ear, CJ walked over to Karl, reaching into the bag to grab some sandwich wrapped in brown paper as he passed him by. "On it. After I finish up with Dr. Scott, I'll be in the room at the end of the hall if anyone needs me. Oh, and can you find my brother? He can help me set the cameras since he's the least conspicuous of us."

  "Sure thing," Karl said. "You go do your brilliant...whatever it is that you do." He turned back to Brock. "Okay, then, Brock, spread the word that we'll stay on watch until CJ gets eyes up, then we can draw back and take shifts. Oh, and don't forget the 'everyone eats' part," he added around a mouthful of food. "An army marches on its stomach, you know!"