Mind Games (4 page)

The kettle whistled. Derrick poured her a steaming cup of herbal tea. Sparrow sat shivering with the pink blanket printed with dolls wrapped around her shoulders. She didn’t suffer from hypothermia, but her physical and mental condition concerned him. She’d mumbled about the dead girl in the ocean until he got her home. A corpse hadn’t washed up on the shore, and Derrick didn’t see a body bobbing above the ocean’s surface.

What had she seen?

He knew better than to push the issue, since most of the kids he dealt with didn’t confide in him much, if at all. Pressing people to open up only made them shut down more. He’d do this on her terms.

She was a kid when they first met, a young girl with puppy love in her eyes. He hadn’t thought twice about her. She was thirteen. He was sixteen. And, if his memory served him correctly, he and his friends were all about finding girls and getting laid. Unfortunately, his memory also served a mind-blowing reminder to his manhood that he’d been a virgin until he was eighteen. But now, she was a gorgeous, grown woman who was being tight-lipped about what she was doing outside in the wee hours of the morning. More concerning was what she thought she heard and claimed she saw.

All he’d managed to get out of her was that she heard someone calling her name and she didn’t remember leaving the house. What she wasn’t saying to him was if she remembered telling him she had seen a dead girl in the ocean.

He picked up her limp wrist from the table and checked her pulse again. The teacup had warmed her hands, and he suspected, by the color growing in her cheeks, that it had warmed her insides, too. He massaged her hand between his and pondered whether he should offer her a quick physical checkup. As a doctor he had an oath to uphold. He didn’t see offering her a clinical exam a conflict of interest. It was the least he could do for her. As for her mental state, his limited knowledge of psychology could do her more harm than good. He’d suggest she talk to her father about her memory lapse and the girl in the ocean, whom she had yet to speak a word of.

“Sparrow, I’m really worried about you. Would you mind if I did routine checkup? I want to make sure you’re all right, physically.”

When she didn’t object, he excused himself and went out to get his medical bag. Had she been attacked or worse? He’d need to check her for signs of a struggle, visible bruising or marks. If he suspected anything remotely suspicious, he’d take her to the ER pronto.

*               *               *

Sparrow’s head throbbed. The cold wind and rain had pelted her in the face, and her sinuses swelled from the residual effects. Pressure behind her eyes created sharp bursts of lightning, producing strange flashes. She stood to close the open blinds and a jackhammer started a slow, steady rhythm at the top of her skull. She reached for the marble countertop edge and steadied herself against the laser light show and resounding crescendo.

She took a deep breath. Better let Derrick check her vitals, and then she hoped he’d be on his way. She wasn’t going to the hospital. She’d allow him this distraction rather than try to explain to him again that she had no recollection of going outside, leaving her front door wide open, and standing for God knows how long staring out at the ocean.

Apparently, she’d told him she heard someone calling her name. That sounded plain crazy. The last thing she remembered was lying down in corpse pose and listening to the sound of her inhalations and exhalations. She had been picturing the color blue. A sharp pain shot through her head, different than the still-present jackhammer chiseling away at her skull. The disturbing pain had disrupted her thought process.

She regained her balance and walked to the bathroom. A warm shower would help open up her nasal passages and possibly relax her enough to recall what happened last night. She tossed her hair up in a turban-style towel and stepped under the shower’s spray. The pulsating water eased her bunched muscles. She didn’t linger. She didn’t want to keep Derrick waiting. The hot shower and change of clothes renewed her self-confidence, and her nose worked better, too.

Time for her checkup and interrogation. She took a deep breath then opened her mouth and released the gust of air. Would he ask her about the dead girl in the ocean?

How’d I end up outside? Where’d she come from?

She retraced her steps from last night. She had been lying on the floor in corpse pose and thinking about the color blue. Blue. She had focused on that color, imagining herself floating away on the ocean’s surface.

That’s right. Think, Sparrow, think. Why did you go outside?

“Sparrow, everything okay? I heard the water stop.” His voice broke through the closed door.

She didn’t have time to piece together the mystery. “I’ll be right out.” She pressed her ear against the bathroom door and waited to hear his footsteps creaking across the floor. Her body flushed with heat. She dabbed her face with a damp washcloth and then applied a thin coat of tinted moisturizer, mascara, and lip gloss. The time needed to complete the mundane routine helped her mentally prep for the exam. She massaged a glob of orange-scented lotion between her palms, rubbed the excess against her thighs, and then turned the handle on the bathroom door.

Derrick pulled the Velcro from the blood pressure cuff. Her nerves splintered and continued to shred at the other apparatus he fiddled with, placing his doctor’s tools on the dining room table. She swiped her forehead with her forearm and sucked in another deep breath. Going to the doctor was not her idea of a good time, even if it was Dr. Derrick Sloan.

“How about you sit in this chair?” He slid the upholstered chair away from the dining room table. Steeling herself for the inevitable, she braced her hands against the arms of the chair and loudly inhaled then exhaled a deep, cleansing breath.

“Sparrow, if you don’t want me to do this I won’t. But I’ll insist on taking you to the ER.”

Hospital? What? No! No! No! She wouldn’t go to a hospital. Her dad had taken her to the hospital with him as part of a “take your kids to work” outing, and the sounds of sickness disturbed her to this day. She doubted her peers had the pleasure of being admitted for a full physical and psychological evaluation. Her heart thudded against her chest. She had to calm down before he insisted on taking her to the hospital. She inhaled and exhaled, focusing on her breathing. She didn’t make the humming sound she did when practicing yoga, but imagining it helped her relax.

“I’m ready, doctor.”

He wrapped the BP cuff around her narrow arm. The cuff inflated and deflated with a whoosh of air. “110 over 70. That’s great.” He peeled back the Velcro from the BP cuff and caressed her arm. “I’m sorry if that felt tight.” His serious doctor’s eyes softened. Desire clouded his professional concern.

He brushed the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, and then stepped to the side of her and gently inserted a slender scope into her right ear and then her left. “Your ears are a little red. Let’s check your throat. Open wide for me.”

Talk about embarrassing. She stretched her mouth open, and he pushed a tongue depressor against her tongue. “Say aaahhhhh.”

The “aaahhhhh” sounded more like gagging coming from the base of her stomach.

“A little red.” He cupped his hands over his mouth, warming them with his breath. She sank back against the chair. He placed his hands around her throat. His fingers gently pressed under her chin, behind her ears, and down her neck. His serious doctor’s face and professional attitude returned. That didn’t matter to her. His touch managed to arouse her feminine instincts.

She shifted her eyes to a lock of sandy hair curling behind his ear. He usually wore his hair short, but he’d been working so much lately he hadn’t made time for a haircut. She didn’t mind his mussed longer hair and rugged, unshaven face. Sexy thoughts about him squashed her anxiety.

“Your glands don’t feel swollen. That’s good. I’m not surprised about the ears and throat. The wind was really whipping up last night, and standing at the wet shore probably didn’t help.” He warmed the stethoscope between his pressed palms, waiting for her to respond.

She nodded in agreement. He walked behind her and slid the stethoscope under her shirt, placing it on different areas of her back. He asked her to take some normal breaths, followed by deep breaths. “Your lungs are clear. But we might want to check them again if you experience any coughing or wheezing. Do you have asthma?”

“No.” Her voice cracked on the short word. She could barely think with his hands roaming her back. His touch was not sexual or even sensual, but having his hands against her made her body react in ways it wouldn’t had she been on any other doctor’s routine visit.

“That’s good. I see a lot of asthmatic patients in Southern Cal. Some have to retreat to the Sonora Desert for relief.” His tone sounded serious, but she couldn’t see the expression on his face because he was standing behind her. She assumed it’d match the concern in his voice.

“Not me. I’ll live here forever.”

He stepped in front of her, holding the stethoscope between the palms of his hands. “I’ve got to slide this under your shirt and listen to your heart.”

His hand tickled the side of her ribcage. She twisted in her chair but didn’t giggle. He maintained his professional composure, giving her a second to sit up. She completed his request for some breaths in and out, hoping to have completed the exam to his satisfaction.

“Sounds good. Please lift your shirt.”

“Derrick, seriously?”

“Seriously. I want to check for any bruises.”

His kind brown eyes locked with hers, and the concern in the slight smile on his lips conveyed sincerity guaranteed to put a patient at ease. However, she wasn’t so sure she was ready to remove her shirt. Not in the present situation.

“Bruises? I wasn’t mugged. Besides, I just showered. I don’t have any bruises.”

“So you say, but you also don’t remember what happened after you left the house. I want to make sure.”

“But I just told you there’s nothing wrong with me. Don’t you believe me?”

“It’s not that. You should have seen how upset and confused you looked. I’m only doing my job. I can’t leave here worried you might be hurt. As it is, I probably should have taken you to the hospital.”

He’d said the magic word, hospital. And she wasn’t going there. You can trust him. If you do what he says, he won’t take you to the hospital.

She reached for the bottom of the shirt and slowly drew it up and over the sports bra. The spandex clung around the top of her. Reluctantly, she stood up in front of him, dropping her bare arms to her sides like a doll on display. If she took one step forward, their bodies would meet. He moved closer, stepping around her. His critical doctor eyes investigated her body. A natural heat radiated from within, coating her skin with warm embarrassment. This wasn’t exactly how she pictured him seeing her almost naked for the first time.

“No bruises, thank God.” She wished she could see a hint of desire smoldering against his brown eyes, but he remained clinical, professional. He walked behind her and then continued, “I’m going to press on your back in certain areas. Let me know if you feel any pain.”

Was this necessary? She continued to oblige him. She wouldn’t risk him taking her to the hospital. If that happened, and her father showed up, she didn’t know where she might end up. His fingers pressed along her spine and around her shoulder blades. Not seductive, but the circular motions he made on her back stirred her arousal. Her cheeks flushed with heat. She melted under the gentle caress of his hands and kneading motion of his fingers.

“Anything hurt when I touch you?”

She wanted to respond, but her lips wouldn’t form any words. He massaged her shoulders. His light touches tingled along her spine. She doubted he touched his other patients like this, but she wasn’t about to stop him. She liked the safety radiating from his touch.

She cleared her throat, forcing her voice to sound nonchalant. “I don’t have pain in any of the spots you touched.”

He came around to the front of her and cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “Good.” He released her face and pulled down her shirt, his knuckles grazing her sides. She stopped from moving closer to him, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around him.

“I’m almost done. Just a few more things to check out.” He pressed his fingers under her neck, rolling the pads around her glands, checking to see if they were swollen. Hadn’t he done this already? He pressed his fingertips along her collarbone. What did he expect to find? She didn’t mind playing doctor with him. Maybe this would lead to the intimacy they’d missed last night.

“How’s that feel? Does anything hurt?” He stepped back, folding his arms across his chest.

“I’m okay. Really.”

Derrick turned to the dining room and removed the stethoscope from around his neck. He packed the tools of his trade in the medical bag. She’d ended their game of doctor. Rats. He’d held back his attraction during the exam, but she’d caught glimpses of desire emitting from his brown eyes. He fought to maintain his professional composure, but she’d caught the longing expression on his face more than once.

Not in a million years would she have expected to run into him, especially in a city as humongous as LA. Luck was on her side the day she stopped by the animal shelter to make a donation and saw the yellow and white RV parked at the opposite corner, the words
Mobile Health Clinic
imprinted in red along the side. Curiosity had drawn her to it when she saw a doctor administering care to street kids. She’d nearly fainted when she got closer and recognized Derrick.