“Emma.”
“I’m good.”
I wasn’t. I knew that, but my desire for discussion was replaced by the combination of fatigue and sadness.
With my wet long hair combed and hanging down my back and wearing only the robe, I walked to the sofa near the fireplace and sat, unsure what would happen next. As Rett and Dr. Dustin began to converse, I took a small bit of comfort in the fact that I’d given the doctor permission to share any medical findings or information with Rett. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if my permission was necessary in my new existence where Everett Ramses ruled; nevertheless, authorizing their discussion gave me a smidgen of control in a world where I felt it slipping away.
My mind wandered as the two of them discussed her findings and recommendations for my recovery. I heard bits and pieces, such as that the doctor Rett knew better was Thomas Bidwell. Dr. Dustin was his associate or vice versa. It didn’t matter. Just before she was about to leave, Dr. Dustin handed Rett a manila envelope. “This is evidence.”
As he looked at the envelope, his posture changed, growing more rigid by the second. It was then that I realized I hadn’t heard them discuss the gynecologic findings.
“Rett,” I called from across the room.
Instead of looking my way, he lifted his hand to still me and continued his unrelenting stare at Dr. Dustin.
“Evidence of...” He left the sentence open-ended.
“I would assume the perpetrators,” she responded. “Thomas mentioned that you prefer to provide NOPD with the evidence yourself. While that is unusual, I agreed to that as well as the other terms upon taking Emma as a patient.
“There are scrapings from beneath Emma’s fingernails.” She smiled my way. “I think she gave them hell.” Her expression turned serious as she turned back to Rett. “And there are also samples of the blood that was on her skin. There is enough for a DNA match if that’s needed for trial.”
“Anything else?” he asked.
“You and Emma can discuss that.”
Rett remained rigid, still not looking my way. “Yes, Doctor, thank you.” He lifted the envelope. “We never know what will be needed at trial. You’re right. Emma deserves justice. The men who did this deserve to pay.”
“Emma,” Dr. Dustin said, again looking my direction, “call me if anything changes. For now, my advice is to eat what you can, drink plenty of fluids, and rest as much as possible.”
I nodded.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Rett said, opening the door. “This is Miss Guidry; she’ll walk you to your car.” Dr. Dustin nodded as she disappeared. He paused and then said, “Just a minute,” before closing the door. His eyes narrowed as he turned my way. “What isn’t she saying, Emma?”
I shook my head very slightly. “I didn’t hear all she said.”
He came closer, his presence looming over me. “What should we discuss?”
I could have stood to put myself on more equal footing, literally and figuratively, but I didn’t. “I tried to tell you when she was here. You didn’t want to hear it.”
“I want to hear it now.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.”
His lips formed a straight line as he continued his laser-focused stare.
Emma
“I’m waiting.” His deep voice rumbled through the suite.
“Dr. Dustin checked me, as you undoubtedly knew she would...”
Rett’s footing shifted as an awkward silence settled around us. “What did she learn?”
“What I already told you—they didn’t rape me.”
His chest deflated as he let out a long breath, and without another word, he returned to the door and opened it. A moment later, Ian entered wheeling a cart with two large silver domes as well as beverages.
“Come eat, Emma,” Rett said as if my answer had given him permission to drop the other conversation completely.