by J. D. Dexter
Dang it. I wish I had telepathy right now.
“Hunter, what do you think will happen to me once it gets out that I can heal, not only myself, but others? Not to mention kill them in such a way that it looks like they’ve died from natural-ish causes?” I whisper heatedly.
I try to tell him with my eyes that this only ends badly for me. But I also don’t feel like I can ask him to jeopardize his job for me.
My life has gone downhill in a very short time.
“Finley, you could heal so many people!”
“Uh huh. And how long would it be before someone wanted to keep me as their personal healer?”
“The government could protect you.”
“Right. Because all of the TV shows and movies about super-soldier programs always end so well, right?” I snort.
“Those are fiction, Finley. This is real life. The government would be able to offer you protection.”
“But at what price? Would I have to heal everyone on their roster? I have no idea what long-term healing would do to me. I’ve only healed on a large scale one time, and I ended up passing out,” I burst out.
Immediately, I feel the bottom drop out of my stomach. I can’t believe I just outed myself! I really need to get my head examined. I just put Josh in danger.
“But you’ve said you healed yourself multiple times. And yeah, a gunshot is pretty severe, but I don’t remember you passing out here in the hospital after you woke up.” He looks and sounds confused.
“I felt like crap and don’t remember anything after I healed the internal wounds after waking up the first time,” I hurry to explain. I need to keep the knowledge of my healing Josh in my very limited control.
“Healing, in general, takes it out of everyone anyways. It’s why we need more sleep and enough food to fuel that healing. Finley, I really think you could do so much good with your gift.” Now he looks like he’s pleading with me.
“So do I. But I should be the one who gets to determine who, what, how much, and when I choose to heal people. I don’t want it to become my whole life. Nor do I want to have to worry about being kidnapped or conscripted into some type of top secret arrangement just to keep my family safe,” I say fiercely.
“I think you’re over-reacting a little, Finley.” He tries to soothe me.
He fails.
There is nothing I hate more than someone telling me my emotions are wrong or that I’m over-reacting. If I were a guy, they wouldn’t say those things. They would just take what I’m saying a face value and give it more credence.
I can feel myself shutting down, pushing him away, pulling into myself.
“You’re right, Dr. Jamison.” I say without inflection, my heart hurting just a little. “Can you get my family back in here, please? I’ve shared with you what you need to know. Do with it what you will.” I turn to look out the window.
I need him to leave before I fall apart. I can’t share anymore tears with him—he’s seen enough of those from me.
“Finley come on.” He tries to grab my hand, and I pull it away from him slowly, still not looking at him.
A heavy silence descends on the room.
“I’ll go get them,” he says dejectedly.
I hear the door open, and his raised voice telling my family that I want to talk to them. I turn back to the door.
“Finley-babe, what’s wrong?” Brian’s the first one to get to me. I can hear the edge of barely restrained violence in his voice.
I turn to look at him, my eyes desert-dry.
“He said I was over-reacting,” I say it calmly. “That I could trust the government to protect me. When I voiced my concerns, he said I was over-reacting.”
All of my boys’ eyes pop wide, their cheeks paling before flushing with heat. To a one, their fists clench as they turn to confront Dr. Jamison.
“You need to leave now, Dr. Jamison. If you share any of what she told you, I will file charges against you for breaking doctor-patient privilege,” Brent says coldly. His eyes full of a banked fire that will burn you in a flash.
“I have to share why I’m not doing the VHF testing. Otherwise I could lose my job,” he insists. He looks a little bewildered, trying to figure out where all of this animosity is coming from.
“Then do the tests. We will wait with her until they come back negative. At that time, you will not be allowed to share any of the information disclosed here,” Dad says. His tone could freeze a polar bear’s nuts off.
Dr. Jamison is being shut out. I’m hurt and confused, although I really don’t have a right to be. I mean, I’ve known the man for less that two days. What did I think was happening? That we were falling in love? I scoff at myself and grieve just a little.
“You think someone came in here and decided to attack her because she just got shot? It wasn’t a mob hit or anything like that; it was my mother! She’s already come under fire for being,” Brian looks at me, grins, ‘enhanced.’ We’re not asking you to help us, we’re just asking you not to hurt her any more than she already has been.” His face clouds over with anger.
“You mean the attacker was here because of what she can do?” Hunter asks, mouth gaping open.
Okay, is he really this slow, or is it just now hitting him that people are, and will be, after me?
“That’s the only probable answer. She is a massage therapist who only treats people in chronic pain—they like her. In their own special ways.” Josh snickers a little before turning serious again. “She doesn’t have any enemies. Everyone freaking loves her! Even strangers smile at her and help her out. She is just a good person.”
I get a little teary-eyed listening to my boys defend me. I know they love me, but I’ve never heard how they see me. It makes me feel proud that they see me the way the do, and to know they love me on top of that is freaking icing on my personal cake.
“I can see that for myself,” Hunter says slowly, his dark eyes watching me. He looks like he’s re-examining me but getting a new result this time.
I try not to hold my breath, or anticipate his reaction, but I fail utterly. I really care what Hunter does with the information he has about me. And for more than just thinking he’s hopelessly naïve. I care about his opinion of me, and I really want him to want to keep me safe.
Argh, one intimate moment of sharing, and now I want the man in my life long term. I’m such a girl. I sigh, shaking my head to get rid of these immature thoughts.
“Anyways. Run the tests, Dr. Jamison. We’ll be out of your hair, and your life, in no time.” I try to make it a firm statement. But since I can feel my emotions all over my face, I know that I look a little pathetic.
Dr. Jamison nods his head, shoulders slumping, looking glum. Apparently, I didn’t look as pathetic as I thought. He turns to leave the room, shutting the door behind him this time.
“What do we need to do to keep Finley safe?” Mom asks, my protection always her first priority.
“We still have to deal with the second visit from Detective Wallace. He hasn’t come back to question me about Cynthia. I don’t think we should tell anyone else what’s going on until we can figure out the extent of my enhancements.” I wink at the boys. They all chuckle.
“And how do we do that?” Mark wants to know. “Finley is the only program participant I’ve met. We can’t really compare her to anyone else. I’m not even sure I have access to the individuals’ information anymore. It’s all aggregated data points. I think the separated data was shuttled up the line and my project supervisor has it.”
“Is there any way you can get access to the information now?” Brent asks.
“I would have to check. But I also don’t want to raise any flags in case someone has already made contact with some of the participants,” Mark adds.
“True, we don’t want that to happen at all,” Dad agrees. Mom nods along too.
“So how do we go about testing her enhancements? She’s done some preliminary testing, but I’m not sure we want her to keep mut
ilating herself to figure it out.” Brian gives me a glare.
“I am sitting right here, you know?” I tell them, the snark factor high.
“Of course, you are, sweetie.” Josh pats my head.
He knows I hate that patronizing tone. I elbow him in the stomach. He’s rubbing his stomach, chuckling under his breath. Brian snorts at us both.
“Jerk.”
“Children, important things are being discussed; please pay attention.” Dad shuts us down.
“Sorry, dad,” I tell him.
“Hmph.”
“Well, considering what I did to the attacker, I know I don’t need the tests Dr. Jamison is going to be doing. But I also don’t really want to have to be in danger for me to better understand my enhancements.” I put it out there, in case they think I’m turning into an adrenaline junkie.
“I still don’t understand what happened with the fake cop,” Mark speaks up.
I give them a brief rundown, similar to what I did for Dr. Jamison. Everyone is quiet once again. I’m beginning to think my life is never going to be normal again. Not only is everyone on edge, but we’ve been hit by a number of big issues in a really short amount of time. I’m not averse to change; I just wish I could have made the decision to change on my own. Instead, all of it has been thrust on me through circumstances out of my control—not my favorite.
“I knew you had done something to him—for which I’m very thankful,” Brian blurted. “But I had no idea that you had caused him to bleed from every available orifice. That was really creepy to see.” He shudders.
“Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t have to see it happening. Watching it through the Spectrum was bad enough. It looked like I had started off a volcanic eruption in his body.” I shake my head to try to dispel the image.
“So, we know she can heal herself, others, and disrupt body systems enough to cause death.” Mark puts succinctly.
“Oh. That reminds me: I didn’t tell anyone that I healed Josh. Not even Dr. Jamison. I don’t want anyone looking for him for anything connected to this nonsense.” I lean my head against Josh’s hard abs. I feel his arm come around my shoulders.
“Good. I hadn’t thought of that, but good catch.” Brent acknowledges.
“What do you mean, you healed Josh?” Mom looks at me in horror.
“Josh was standing directly behind me when Cynthia shot the gun. The bullet passed through me into Josh. He had a huge hole in his lower abdomen. I had to fix him.”
Mom and Dad both look at Josh with surprise in their eyes. He just lifts the hem of his shirt for them to see that he was perfectly fine. Mom’s eyes fill with tears again.
If we keep crying at this rate, we’re all going to be dehydrated on a massive scale. I really just want to have some type of firm plan in place for when I finally get released. I can’t deal with all of the sorrow, grief, loss, and disappointment that has filled the last week of my life. I need some normal, and very soon.
“She’s my hero.” Josh beams at me. I blow him a kiss.
“Seconded,” Brian and Brent sing.
“Okay, back on track. We can’t do anything until Finley’s released from the hospital. Due to Dr. Douche, we now need to wait for her to be tested for all of these diseases that she doesn’t have. This will allow Detective Wallace access to her. Hopefully, she’ll be safe here, although someone has already gotten to her once. I’m going to ask Detective Wallace to put a protective detail on her until she leaves.” Brent takes charge, lawyer voice on full.
“He already said he would. I have no idea when the officer will show up though.”
“Finley, don’t share any other information with Dr. Douche. We can’t afford him knowing any more since we don’t know what he will do with the information. I suggest we all go home, get some rest—let Finley sleep, shower, start over tomorrow.”
“I’ll start looking at legal ways to keep Dr. Douche quiet in case he doesn’t take doctor-patient privilege to heart.” I know the boys are angry at Dr. Jamison, but hearing them call him Dr. Douche hurts me just a little bit.
Everyone nods.
Except mom. She’s got her stern face on full.
“I’m not leaving my baby alone in a hospital. She’s been through enough. I will be staying here with her,” Mom says flatly.
“Ally, she’s fine. There’s no medical reason for us to stay here with her. It will look suspicious to anyone watching her if we stay here all,” Dad looks at his watch, “day. We need to try to keep as low a profile as possible. Which means business as usual. We’ll go to her house, pick up some clothes and other necessities for her, and come back as soon as everyone has gotten some decent rest. You and I could do with showers and real meals. I, for one, am looking forward to sleeping in an actual bed,” Dad insists.
“Mrs. T.—Alice—I agree with George. We really do need to act like nothing is wrong, and that Finley is in no way any more special than usual,” Brent inserts.
“Finley’s never been in the hospital before. Granted, now we know why. But why would it look suspicious if I stayed over night in her room? She’s my only daughter, I’m a retired nurse. It would look weird if no one stayed with her,” Mom pleads. She does make a good argument, but if something else does happen I can’t have my mom in the middle of it.
“Mom, no one has stayed in my room with me since I got here. Now that I’m about to be released, I think it could bring undue attention. I just want to get out of here with the least number of issues. If the guys think that the best way for me to do that is to stay here alone for a little longer, then, please, let’s just do what they want this time. We can give them hell for it later.” I wink at her. I’m trying to get her to understand my side with only my eyes.
She stares at me for a long moment. Closing her eyes, lifting her face to the ceiling like she’s asking for God’s strength, she manages a shaky nod. Dad encloses her in his arms, giving her a hug.
Everyone steps up to the bed, and pats, hugs, or kisses me on the forehead as they file out of the room. Brian waits a couple of beats, the last one to leave.
“I told Dr. Douche that if he upset you right now, I would destroy him.”
So that’s what all of the whispering had been about earlier.
I don’t know whether to feel happy or sad about seeing Hunter again, not after how we left things.
“Why? Why would you bother? It’s not like we have a relationship outside of doctor-patient.” I try not to pout. My hopes had risen so very high, and in so short a time. It was really unlike me. I’m more deliberate in who I spend my time with.
“I saw the way you acted around him. I’ve seen you around plenty of men, Finley-babe. I’ve never seen you like this. I wanted to protect you since he’s someone outside of our group. Hell, he’s not even part of a periphery group,” he says fiercely.
“Thank you, Bri, so much. I love you.” I feel a single tear slide down my cheek. I’m so tired, and love for him sneaks past my guards. I couldn’t have asked for better friends, especially when they are more like brothers.
“I love you, too. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He kisses my cheek one more time, and then strides out the door.
Settling back, I push the button to lower the head of the bed so I can hopefully get some escape from all of the weirdness that my life has become. I can feel the pull of sleep dragging me down. I’m tired of fighting, so I give in. My last thought is one of happiness and belonging.
I have no idea what time it is, but it’s got to be late—or rather early—since the room is lightening with the sun coming up. The stupid beeping of the machines I’m hooked up to are keeping me awake. I doze off but am awakened repeatedly by small things: the nurse talking too loudly on her phone down the hall, my back hurting from the uncomfortable bed. Not to mention, feeling like I need to pee every ten minutes, which is weird since I’ve not had anything to drink.
Not only is my body tired and weary, my mind and emotions are still swinging from one end to the other. N
ever stopping for too long, I feel like I’m stuck on a tilt-a-whirl that’s hooked to a roller coaster and I can’t get off.
I’ve been shot by my aunt. Granted, she thought she was protecting her family from me. But, for crap’s sake, I grew up with her family. I still don’t understand what sent her off on the crazy train. I might need to re-evaluate the title, honorary though it is.
So, she saw me heal myself. Admittedly, that would be creepy, but not a shooting offense. At least not in my opinion. Then finding out she had been having me followed since high school—creepyville. I must be the most unobservant person alive because I had no idea I was being watched so closely.
Then I heal my best friend. Only to end up in the hospital anyway because I couldn’t support my own body systems during the healing. Looking back, I wouldn’t have saved myself first, even if I had to do it all over again. Josh is more important to me. All of my boys are more important to me that my own health and well-being.
To top it all off, I meet an awesome guy, a real-life hero. I share a truly beautiful moment with him. We connected, I know we did. I’ve been single for a very long time. I really don’t mind it, if I’m being honest. Managing men is exhausting. The level of spectacular would have to be off the charts for me to give up my singleness. Hunter was the first to even trip that line, let alone hurdle over it.
Brian, Brent, and Josh joke with me about my penchant for being alone, even though they’re not always paired up with ladies either. I think our group is happy just like we are. It’s a big step to voluntarily upset our group, and I don’t take their friendship lightly.
But to have the budding relationship with Dr. Jamison crash and burn so abruptly has left me feeling dissatisfied, discouraged, and even more wary about dating than before. Throw all of that emotional mess on top of the events of that brought me into the hospital in the first place just makes it an even bigger steaming pile of crap to deal with.
And how could I forget about the fake cop? I was so scared: for myself, for Brian, for the nurses who rushed to help me. I’m a little scared about what I did to him. Telling myself I was in danger doesn’t settle my heart about ending someone else’s life. I’ve never thought of my gift as something that could hurt someone.