Page 20 of Daddy's Double Surprise

“It’s Mel. I should go.” He walked away and answered the phone, and I was saved by the bell—this time. I wasn’t so sure the universe was going to let me slide much farther. I had to figure out who was behind this drug trial garbage, because while I was almost certain Kira’s death had nothing to do with what was going on in my clinics, it still didn’t look good. And I hated the idea of Sunny finding out and being hurt by it.

13

SUNNY

Isat in the small, chilly break room alone with my phone pressed to my ear listening to yet another reason why Freya would not be able to meet me later today for coffee like we planned. Jackson had just left to go back to patients. Carter would come in any minute to send me back to mine. After the last chat Freya and I had at that coffee shop, she’d been avoiding me. I pushed too hard, and she was edging me out when I knew she needed help.

“Oh, you know how things are. I’m sorry, Sunny. They just need me to stay late.” Freya sounded distracted, avoidant. A lot of time had passed, and she had changed in so many ways, but back in the day when I knew her, this was her way of getting out of things she wasn’t interested in.

I frowned as I said, “I’m worried about you, babe. I know it’s been a long time, but I’m still your friend and you can count on me. Please open up. I’m here, and I want to help because I care.”

Having seen those bruises and now the way she was avoiding me, I knew without a doubt that man was hitting her. My gut screamed at all the signs. It felt like that stretch of Interstate 5 between Santa Clarita and Castaic, with the billboards tellingpassersby to exit and enjoy all the boating and recreation activities. Anyone could see how plainly things were spelled out.

“Sunny, I know you care.” Freya’s voice took on a reserved tone, almost like she was giving up, but she wasn’t relenting to my pleas to help her. She had already resigned herself to the life she lived and settled there in misery. I hated that for her. “I don’t want you to bring this up again. I’m happy with Brad. I love him, and I don’t want you to get involved. It’ll make things worse, okay?”

A protest perched on the edge of my lip, ready to explode from my mouth, but I bit it back. Pressing my eyes closed against the emotional outburst I felt welling up, I said, “Yes, I understand. I’ll just say one more time that I still want to be your friend. So, if you ever want to do something, I’m here.” I couldn’t help myself. I had to add, “And if that man so much as looks at you cross again, you know I am the one who can help. You come find me.”

There was a short silence followed by some background noise. Freya rushed out, “I have to go, Sunny. I’ll talk to you later.” Then she hung up, and I let the phone and my hand drop to my lap.

It shouldn’t have been this hard to help a friend in need. Freya was an intelligent woman who knew situations like this could change in an instant. Sudden positive shifts—that’s what Mom called them. They didn’t happen as often as bad things, but the hope of being able to cast a lifeline and pull Freya out of the floodwaters wouldn’t die. I couldn’t even carve it out of my heart if I tried.

“You okay?” I heard, and I turned over my shoulder to see Carter there with an empty coffee cup in hand. He walked over to the coffee machine and opened the lid to begin prepping the machine to make more brew.

“Not really,” I sighed. The more I pushed, the more discouraged I got. It felt very daunting fighting someone’s sense of moral obligation, or perhaps even some heartbreaking notion of connection. Every time I talked to her, I physically felt how much she cared for Brad. I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was for her to endure loving someone so broken and continuously believing the best about them, hoping they’d change.

The thought brought tears to my eyes which I blinked away. I’d been doing more of that lately, breaking down crying. Kira would’ve told me to have one good crying session and move on, but this was different. And it wasn’t grief either. The heaviness I carried lately didn’t just make me sad. I was irrationally irritable at times, then bursting with explosive joyful energy at other times. Like a yo-yo I couldn’t stop.

“Talk to me,” Carter told me as he filled the water reservoir on the coffee machine with water from the tap. He put a K-Cup in, set his mug under the spout, and pressed the brew button. Then he shut the door and sat next to me, taking my hand in his. His fingers weaved together with mine and I stared at the union, almost feeling weepy again in such a short time. “You’re worried about someone?” he asked, prompting me when I said nothing.

“Yeah, my friend. You know the one I told you I had to check on.” My hand itched to twirl my hair, but Carter held it firmly in his.

“What’s going on?” His calm, reassuring tone drew the whole truth out of me, from running into Freya again at the department store to coffee, the bruises, and now this avoidance. He listened with patience, kissing my knuckles a few times, but his eyes never left my face. “And you really think this guy is hurting her, but she doesn’t want help?”

I bobbed a shoulder and pulled my hand away, finally able to tug my ponytail and relieve the anxious energy. “I think she doesn’t want what’s happening to happen anymore. I think sheloves him a lot and just wants him to realize his actions hurt her so they can move on and find their happiness again.”

Carter grimaced when I pulled away, but he scooted closer and rested a hand on my knee. “And you also think he’s not going to change?” He phrased it like a question, but it was more of a statement. An indictment against Brad’s character, likely based subconsciously on my ex-boyfriend’s behavior and the way he struck me. I was jaded, believing men couldn’t change.

But as I met Carter’s sincere gaze, I knew that change was possible. He’d sworn off love, avoided serious relationships, and intended to remain single—he told me himself. Until he met me, he’d have been happier alone. He changed…So maybe change was possible for Brad too, but I didn’t see how. Not without intervention.

“Sunny, you can only do so much. If your friend wants help, she will come to you. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. But—” He squeezed my knee as I blinked back tears to look into his eyes. “We could try helping together. Let’s invite them for a double date, get to know both of them. And see where it takes us.”

He smiled softly, and it made my eyes well up faster than Old Faithful, blowing my top, the dam of my emotions bursting finally. I threw my arms around his shoulders and crushed myself to his chest, squeezing my already-tender tits between our bodies. Something was seriously wrong with me. I wasn’t the crying type, but I couldn’t stop getting emotionally worked up lately. And the achy chest was annoying. My hormones were all out of whack, and I blamed the grieving process.

“You’re amazing, do you know that?” I pulled back far enough to kiss him, and he returned it gently.

“Nah, I think you’re looking in a mirror.” His nose pressed against mine, rubbing in a tiny circle, then he grinned. “But we have patients waiting for us. We’ll have to save this amazingnessfor dinner later this week. Then you can tell me how amazing I am when you’re sweaty and in a sex haze on my bed.”

I chuckled and kissed him again, then pulled away. He was right; I might not be able to save Freya, but there were sick people in that waiting room who did need my skills. I could at least do something to help someone else today.

“Deal,” I told him, pocketing my phone and standing up. “I’m gonna hold you to that.” With a wink, I turned and strolled out the door, using a tissue from my pocket to clean up my face.

Passing by exam room one I tossed my used tissue into a trash can and felt my phone buzz. My heart jolted a little thinking it was Freya, but it wasn’t. Chad sent me a message which I glowered at.

Chad 1:15 PM:Hey, I left my charger wire at your place and my black hoodie is missing. I need to stop by and get it. When you get this, answer it, and stop ignoring my calls. I want my stuff back.

The lump forming in my throat was an immediate reaction. Every time he called or messaged, I felt the same dread I’d felt for weeks before that night he hit me. He would get so angry, scare me at times, but I found ways to calm him. In some aspects, I was like Freya at that time, hoping it was a phase Chad would go through and move out of at some point. But I wasn’t so smitten with him to overlook the fact that he acted on that anger. Even his apology wasn’t good enough. I knew he’d do it again.

I ignored the message, putting my phone away again, and looked at the door to reception where my next patient was waiting.

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