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With everything that needs to be seen to, all the tiny details that have to be perfect for the plan to work, my need for control is feeling satiated. Right or wrong, it calms me.
My father killed my mother when I was very young. I know he did it - because I saw it. Her death was painful, horrific, and degrading. I witnessed her abuse every day of my life until her death when I was six years old. Those images take up room in my mind and are likely to blame for my compulsion to control the world around me.
Jackson Adley had a violent disposition that would show itself often, and the majority of the time it seemed directed at my mother. He treated her as a subordinate and expected nothing but immediate, blind obedience.
Despite having a young child around, he would often beat or rape her right in front of me. She never fought him, which seemed to enrage him more than the few times she did struggle. And after he was done, he would yell at her to clean up the mess before walking out.
He knew I was there and expected me to watch. I had to learn the hard way not to call out or warn her. If I called out, cried, hid, or reacted in any way he would take it out on her. I had to watch as he hit, kicked, punched, raped, and terrorized her. Some of the trauma I’ve managed to block out, but I feel guilty for not remembering every second of her pain.
Logically, I understand the abuse my father forced me to witness has shaped me in many ways, but I hate it. And more than anything, I hate that I will never have a normal relationship because of it. I’m too afraid that my need for control will scare off any worthwhile relationship, and I don’t want to be like him.
For her, I need to be different. My need for control can only extend to whatever it takes to keep her safe. I refuse to look at her any other way than as a patient, no matter how connected or attracted I feel. She doesn’t deserve any more hardships.
I’m so lost in my thoughts I almost miss Dr. Franks leaving the room.
“Do you have a moment, Doctor?”
He nods affirmatively and we head into the hallway, glancing around to make sure there’s no one to hear our conversation. Lukas and Jackson join us, and we close ranks to discuss our plans.
“We’ve been considering your position that she might not be safe, and I’ve done some digging. I’ve confirmed there are people looking for her at all of the area hospitals, and I’m afraid I’ve also connected another incident that might cause some issues.”
He listens intently as we get him up to date. I give him the abridged version, not including any mention of the bag of bloody clothes or the knife, but even without those crucial pieces of evidence, it seems obvious they are connected.
Dr. Franks thinks for a moment, watching his patient as she successfully takes her first steps and continues to cross the room. “How can I help?”
Shooting one last look towards Jackson and Lukas in the event they have any last-minute objections, I nod affirmatively. This is the right thing to do, and my instincts tell me that including Dr. Franks is the right move.
“Our first priority is to have her moved out of this facility by tomorrow morning and to a private, undisclosed location. To do this as safely as possible, we need a list of medical supplies, equipment, medications, or anything else we might need to see to her condition. Micah is in medical school and has some useful training, but we will bring in a professional if needed.”
Dr. Franks nods thoughtfully. “Transport will not be too difficult. She is doing remarkably well and is much farther along with her healing than I would expect. The largest piece of equipment you’ll need to travel with is a wheelchair. She would benefit from another day or two of IV fluids and medication, but it is not critical. I believe Mr. Williams would be perfectly capable of treating her head wound, and I will personally give him some information and instruction in that regard.”
The tension in my shoulders relaxes. I expected more pushback, but I think he truly cares about the safety and wellbeing of his patient and recognizes that something about her past is not right. The fact that uniformed men are looking for her is extremely suspect - she could be in great danger. Trusting anyone is a risk, but it would be significantly more difficult to make a smooth exit without his help.
Dr. Franks promises he will see us once more before we leave in the morning. We exchange personal numbers so he can text me with a list of whatever supplies he is unable to send with us. He tells us to call anytime we need help.
Jackson watches through the window as the patient gets situated. “What are we going to do about the trucker?”
“I believe I can have her record wiped from the hospital system. So even if someone did make a connection, they’ll have no official means of putting it together and she’ll be gone.”
Satisfied that everything is going according to plan thus far, we head back into the room as Nurse Irene is lowering the lights and instructing us to make sure she rests. Before she pulls the door shut, she whispers lunch will be delivered at one, which is just under two hours from now. Thanking her, I turn to face everyone, ready to lay out the plan.
Micah
The nurse barely closes the door before Bennet closes the blinds, stepping forward to address the group. I’m anxious to hear about the discussion with Dr. Franks.
“Is everything okay?” The girl we’re all about to risk everything for is sitting up and looking at us expectantly. After everything she’s been through, her grey eyes are alert, waiting for whatever it is we have to throw at her.
“Last night, Dr. Franks mentioned taking precautions in case the person or people that have mistreated you come looking.” Her eyes pass over each of us, settling on me and waiting for me to continue. “While you were sleeping, Bennet here did some digging. His father owns this hospital, so he’s got some access he probably shouldn’t have...”
I hesitate, worried I’m going about this the wrong way.
Bennet chimes in, taking control. “There were people here, looking for you. Men in uniforms, and they were carrying a photo. Luckily, they came in just before you arrived, but I found out they have been checking all of the area hospitals.”
He gives her a moment to process. Her eyes dart around to each of us, concerned.
“There’s more?”
“A good bit more, darlin’.” Jackson rubs her leg sympathetically.
