Chapter 5 The Doctor

Sergio

I refused to get out. For one, it's my room, and I will not be told what to do in it. Secondly, I am not going to leave her alone with another man unless he is me. I don't trust anyone where she is concerned, regardless of whether he is a doctor.

My angel hasn't said anything. She hasn't even moved her head to look around to acknowledge that she is present. The only way we know she is is that she is blinking her eyes. When the doctor shines light in her eyes, she still doesn't acknowledge it. It makes me wonder if she is really present or if she is locked away in her mind somewhere.

''My name is Dr. Gallow. Can you tell me what your last memory is? The doctor waits patiently to see if my angel will answer, but she doesn't.

"I am going to check for any injuries you might have, i am also going to take a sample of your blood together with samples from your private area to run some tests to see if you contracted anything from the incident you went through," he says again and waits to see if she will react in any way, but she still doesn't.

He follows his words with careful actions. When he goes to pull up the blanket from her legs and opens her legs, I cringe and turn away to give them privacy. It doesn't take him long to take the samples, and after briefing me on how to further take care of her and promising me results soon, he leaves.

It's funny, really. He didn't take that long trying to get her to talk. It's like he knew that she wasn't going to say anything. I know he's seen a lot from his work and also from treating my boys, but I'm honestly perplexed that he didn't even take the time to see if she would actually say something. And that puts me in a weird tight spot because I would have to do all the work that he didn't do. It's also going to push me closer to her, which is a bad idea.

I walked closer to the bed to stand next to her and looked down at her. I followed the strong instinct to touch her cheek to see if she would react, and I got what I wanted: a small jolt through her body. I wouldn't have noticed if I wasn't paying attention because the truth is that I felt in sync with her. She still didn't turn to look at me; instead, she closed her eyes. A girl who is used to closing off her feelings is the feeling that I got.

I took the glass of water from the bedside and brought it to her lips. ''Open, I commanded her as I tried to push the straw through her lips. As soon as she latched the straw, she began to drink. I wondered then if anyone ever offered her any water. After a few sips, I pulled the straw out of her lips and put the glass back down.

''What is your name?'' asked her, hoping that she would answer. ''Sooner or later you will have to start talking, I'm sure people are wondering where you are.' It was an ill attempt and a bit rude of me, even though I could hear it in my tone, but it worked. She opened her eyes again and glared at me.

''There's no one looking for me,'' she said it so low in her tiny voice I almost missed it.

Her words didn't make any sense to me, even though I suspected she may be telling the truth. I had sent one of the guys back to the spot where I found her, and they found a school bag, which also had a phone inside. There were no missed calls or messages from anyone. And now she has me at a point where I am interested in knowing more about her.

''Then where were you going that you ended up in the bushes? I ask her, making her turn her head. She is shutting me out.

I walk out of my bedroom to my office, leaving her alone to wallow in her sadness. If she thinks she can shut me out forever, she has another thing coming. I didn't get to where I am without learning to be patient.

Holt is standing outside my door, waiting for me with an envelope in his hand. Being one of my most trusted men in my organisation, he knows how important it is not to waste time. With a frown on his face, I'm guessing the information he has is about the angel I forgot to ask the name of. I also know it's bad.

"You're not going to like this. I got information, but it doesn't look like everything. I still have some of the guys working on getting everything else," he says, handing me the brown envelope, then leaves me in my office to read its contents.

When I take out the papers in the file, I am met with pictures of a young, beautiful, brown eyed girl with bruises on her face. The emotions that I had expected to hit my make release a growl low in my chest. I rub my chest because what I'm seeing breaks my heart. I know without going forward that the pictures I'm going to see are probably worse.

Taking out the pictures and putting them aside, I start to read about the beautiful girl lying in my bed. She is still very young, honestly, but looks younger than her twenty-three years. And if I thought I had a rough upbringing, compared to hers, I was honestly spoiled. With no father present, her single mother raised her, or more like failed her.

I know what it's like being exposed to parents who used alcohol any chance they got. I figure it's the same as drugs. It doesn't help that she was a baby. I guess it's a good thing that her mother died, though I would never say that to her.

The next few pages take me through her foster homes and have me sitting with a bottle of whiskey on the take. I might as well drink directly from the bottle at this rate because I don't seem to be understanding what I'm reading. Or maybe my mind doesn't want to grasp what I'm reading.

I don't think anyone is supposed to survive the hell she went through. I don't understand how anyone would honestly. Anyone would have killed themselves or would be using drugs to numb the pain from the past.

By the time I leave my office, two things are clear. One, I am more drunk than I have been in a long time. And two, Angela Christina Bright is not ever leaving my side, whether she likes it or not; she is mine, and nobody messes with what is mine.