Page 93 of A New Days Don

Alverez looks towards Massimo and his gun, Massimo grinning wickedly at his victim, waiting for him to mess up, “Well, call it self-preservation, but I don’t particularly want people interested in killing me in my office.”

He shifts, his eyes darting away from mine, and I know he isn’t telling the full truth.

“You were the doctor on my file that evening.” I state, and Dr. Alverez nods, “You remember me from the night I was brought in by Jazzy.”

Dr. Alverez gives me an uncertain look, “By who?”

“She’s a street worker. She found me and brought me to the emergency room.” I tell him, “I want to know everything that happened that night and, more importantly, why my file is borderline empty.”

Again, Dr. Alverez’s eyes stray from mine before he sighs and slumps back in his chair, “It was one of my first shifts in the ER.” He begins, his eyes meeting mine with remorse.

“I had been working here for about two years, with my main focus on obstetrics and gynecological surgeries. C-sections, hysterectomies, tumour removal, that sort of thing, but the ER had become more and more overloaded, their resources stretched thin, so I accepted casual shifts, typically nights.” Alverez explains, “Anyway, I had lost a patient to her ovarian cancer, a young mother of three, that afternoon. I wasn’t scheduled to work the night, but I accepted the request to distract myself from the loss. I was about to get some rest when Miranda, a seasoned nurse, came running into the overnight room.”

My heart begins to thrum slower as I brace myself for what is to come. Focus, Mila. You are not that girl anymore.

“Your vitals were strong, but you were unconscious, your dress dirty and torn. Naliya had covered you, providing you with some dignity, upon my arrival. Our first fear was brain damage, given the blood caked in your hair, so we took you for a CT, but it came back with a mild concussion, though we did double check a few hours after that, in case the bleed was small.” Dr. Alverez clocks each of my micromovements as he tells the story, his eyes roving over my body, leaving me feeling caked with disgust.

He carries on, and I do my best to keep my features neutral. “We were prepping for a rape assessment when you first came to. I could hear you speaking with Naliya and Miranda before I walked in. Then you started screaming incoherent nonsense.” He chuckles as if it is the funniest thing in the world, “Almost got me in trouble that evening, both nurses had told the detective about the accusation.”

My gaze zeros in on a male when he pops his head through the door. The three staff in the room rush to hear whatever it is he has to say, but I can’t breathe. The sight of him alone makes my vision pinpoint. And I see him.

Hazel eyes. Mocha coloured hair. Tall. Lean. Sharp jawline.

Panic. He’s here. What is he doing here?

I try to sit up, but the nurse near me holds me in place. Trapped, I’m trapped. Whimpers, moans, ice-cold fear.

“Calm down, dear. I’m going to–”

“Him!” I finally scream through the mask fixed to my face. The man’s eyes blow wide. Caught.

Except that the staff don’t call for backup. James mutters something to one of the nurses and hands her a clipboard. He slips out of the room, and I fight the wires and hands touching me. Don’t touch me. Stop touching me.

I bang my head against the back of the bed, the lump in my throat catching as my vision blurs into white sparkling light.

I fight. Words are being shared. Then…

A needle pokes.

I stumble back, gasping. Massimo has Dr. Alverez in a rear-naked choke, holding him firmly. Alverez’s face is nearing purple in colour. My entire body trembles, “You!”

“N-no,” He wheezes, “It was-n’t me.”

Massimo sneers at the man, his eyes sharp and ready to murder him if I give him the go ahead.

“It was…” I turn from him as my stomach rolls. Dry heaving on the lunch I had several hours ago.

“It wasn–” He is cut off when Massimo tightens his hold on him.

Bile rises in my throat, my vision pinpoints, and I stumble for the trash beside his desk. Coughing up saliva and bile. There are no contents to come out. My hair is pulled back, and I stiffen before Massimo’s leather and cedar envelops me and calm my racing heart. I spit again, the doctor coughing and choking on the ground somewhere behind his desk.

Massimo rubs my back in slow circles as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, sitting up on my haunches, “I’m okay.”

I meet his dark stare, his eyes look untamed with fury, but he keeps himself composed as he takes a tissue from the box on the desk to gently wipe my chin.

“Should I get my team prepared for a cleanup?” Massimo asks.

I shake my head, standing on trembling knees. My shoulder throbs from the jerky motions.