Echoes of You (The Lost & Found Series Book 2)
Echoes of You: Chapter 7

I shifted to a sitting position, my ribs screaming in protest. Talking to a doctor was the last thing I wanted to do, but maybe she’d have something that could help speed the healing along. This wasn’t the first time I’d had angry bruises littering my side, and I knew it took forever for the pain to subside.

Pushing to my feet, I stayed still until the worst of the pain had subsided. Nash was by my side in a flash, his boots already on. He gave me a reassuring smile, but I didn’t miss the worry on his face. Worry I’d put there…and not for the first time.

Guilt gnawed at me. It had been selfish of me to come home and bring this to Nash’s doorstep. But his comfort had been the only thing I wanted.

I’d loved Nash Hartley since the moment we met. That love had shifted and changed over the years from innocent, childish love to middle school crush to high school pining and beyond. But he’d never shown even the slightest interest in me, at least not as anything other than a friend.

A little piece of my soul had died every time I saw him with a different girl. None lasted longer than a handful of dates, but it killed me just the same. I’d thought that getting out of Cedar Ridge and getting a chance at a life with a man who truly wanted me would be the answer to all my problems. But I’d been so wrong.

Now, the only thing I wanted was my best friend at my side, even if that meant never having him completely. I’d rather have the echoes of him than anyone else.

Nash pressed his hand to my lower back. “Let’s hit the road. We can pick up burgers on the way home.”

My eyes flared. “The pizza.” We’d abandoned it on the picnic table.

Nash dropped a kiss to the top of my head. “We’ll get pizza another day. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

My throat burned. “Okay.”

He guided me out of the house and toward his SUV, stopping to grab my keys and lock up on the way. For as much of a daredevil as Nash was, he was always careful when it came to me.

I grinned at him. “Officer Overprotective in full effect?”

He scowled at me. “I’d hate to have all the furniture stolen out of the house. Oh, wait…”

I smacked his shoulder. “Shut up. I’m gonna get a couch at the secondhand store.”

Nash chuckled. “I’m coming with you.”

“Why?” I asked as I slid into the passenger seat.

“Because if I leave the couch selection to you, you’ll get something that looks pretty but is uncomfortable as hell.”

“I would not.”

He pinned me with a stare as he started the engine. “What about that block of cement disguised as a sofa in your first apartment?”

I grimaced. It had been pretty bad. “It was so cute, though. With the brass studs along the arms.”

“More like brass studs in my ass. The floor was more comfortable.”

I snorted. “Fine, you can come with me to pick out a couch.”

“Thank you.”

We were quiet for the rest of the drive. Nash and I had never minded the silence when we were together. It was never awkward or uncomfortable. We simply enjoyed the fact that we were in each other’s presence.

But the closer we got to the medical practice on the outskirts of downtown, the more my nerves ratcheted up. It was as if each rotation of the tires wound my stomach tighter.

Nash pulled into a parking spot in the mostly empty lot. He took my hand and squeezed. “Everything will be fine.”

I swallowed, trying to clear the dryness in my throat. “Okay.”

He released me and climbed out of the vehicle. It took me a little longer and a few deep breaths, but I finally followed. Nash was waiting for me when I got out, not pushing or hurrying me along, simply there for me when I was ready.

He took hold of my hand again and led me toward the door to the clinic. A young man in his mid-twenties exited just as we arrived. He grinned at Nash. “Doc’s waiting for you. I left intake forms on the counter. I’ll file them when I get in tomorrow.”

“Thanks, man,” Nash said.

The guy nodded at me and headed for a MINI Cooper in the lot.

Nash tugged me inside, and my heart rate sped up. The waiting room was completely empty, and I was thankful for that. Nash grabbed the clipboard, and we sat. He began filling out the paperwork, not needing any information from me until he got to the insurance section. “Do you have your insurance card on you?”

I nodded and pulled my wallet out of my purse. Digging through the cards, I handed him the one he needed.

A few seconds later, he handed it back. “All done.”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

Nash squeezed my knee. “I’m right here.”

“I know.”

It was the best comfort and balm I ever could’ve hoped for.

A door to the back swung open, and a woman who looked to be in her sixties stepped out. Silver wove through her blond hair, and she gave us a warm smile. “Hello, I’m Dr. Staunton, but everyone calls me Doc.”

“Hi,” I greeted, my voice a little scratchy. “I’m Maddie.”

“Nice to meet you, Maddie.”

“Thanks for squeezing us in,” Nash said.

Doc sent him a grin. “She seems a heck of a lot nicer than you after you’ve taken a spill doing some ridiculous sport.”

A small chuckle escaped me. “He can be pretty cranky when he’s hurting.”

“Hey,” Nash clipped. “Ganging up on someone isn’t nice.”

The doctor laughed. “All right. We’ll leave you to sulk out here, Nash. Maddie, why don’t you come back with me?”

I stood, but Nash stood with me, all humor fleeing his expression. “I’m coming with you guys.”

Doc pinned Nash with an I-mean-business stare. “You can’t, Nash. I need to talk to Maddie alone and examine her in private.”

“Doc—”

“Sorry,” she cut him off. “This is one battle your charm can’t win.”

I squeezed Nash’s arm. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

The truth was that my insides were a battleground. Part of me didn’t want to go anywhere without him. The other part didn’t want Nash anywhere near the discussion of my injuries. He’d held it together so far, but I knew discussing this kind of thing in detail would send him over the edge.

He ducked his head to meet my gaze. “You’re sure?”

I nodded. “I’ll be out as soon as I’m done.”

“Just shout if you need me.”

Doc extended her hand, guiding me toward the rooms down a hallway. She walked into the first one. “Come on in. There’s a gown right on the table. I’m going to step out while you get changed. You can leave your underwear on.”

“O-okay.” The idea of being in nothing but my underwear and a paper gown made me feel way too vulnerable, but I forced my anxiety down and picked up the covering.

When the door to the exam room clicked shut, I pulled off my blouse. The action made me hiss out a breath, but I kept moving. A few minutes later, a soft knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” I called. I sat on the exam table. I’d removed all the clothing I was supposed to except for my socks. Somehow, it made me feel better to keep them on.

Doc moved into the room and gave me a reassuring smile. “First thing to know is that the moment you say stop, I stop. That’s the most important rule.”

My tongue felt heavy in my mouth, so I nodded instead of speaking. Nash must’ve told her enough about my situation that she was treading carefully.

“Can you tell me what symptoms you’re experiencing?”

I swallowed, trying to clear away some of the dryness in my mouth. “My ribs are the worst. I hit my head, too, but that’s been better over the past couple of days.”

Doc moved closer to me. “I understand there was an altercation with a romantic partner?”

“Yes. I—he—he was angry. He threw me into a wall and kicked me in the ribs.”

Doc’s eyes flashed. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

I didn’t say anything in response. What did you say to that? Thank you? It was no biggie? Nothing felt right.

“Did you lose consciousness at all?” she asked.

“For a couple of seconds, maybe? After I hit the wall, I fell to the floor. Everything’s a little fuzzy.”

Doc pulled out a penlight. “Did you experience any headache, nausea, or blurred vision afterward?”

“Headache, maybe a little nausea.”

She flashed the light across my eyes. “And has that subsided?”

“It has. It’s really just the ribs that are bothering me now.”

“Okay. I’m guessing you had a mild concussion but are on your way to recovery now. How long ago was the incident?”

“About eleven days.”

“That sounds about right. I’d like to see your ribs. Would you mind lifting your gown?”

“Sure.” My hands trembled as they fisted in it, the paper crinkling. Slowly, I lifted.

Doc’s lips pursed as if she were trying to keep herself from cursing. “On a scale of one to ten, what is your pain level?”

I worried my bottom lip. “Maybe a six? A seven when I move wrong.”

She studied the bruising along my side. “Any difficulty breathing?”

“It just hurts when I breathe too deeply.”

“That makes sense. You have at least bruised bones, but I wouldn’t be surprised if something was broken.” She met my gaze. “Before I do a physical exam, I need to ask you a question.”

“Okay…”

“Maddie, were you raped?”

Tears welled in my eyes. “No. He didn’t—it never went there.” Adam would do the opposite in his rages. Tell me I was disgusting. A whore. Sick and twisted.

“Okay.” Doc nodded, pulling something out of her pocket. “I’m going to give you the name of a therapist in town. She’s amazing and hosts a support group I think you might replace helpful.”

“I don’t need—”

Doc extended her hand, offering the tiny rectangle of paper. “Just take the card. You can decide if you want to use it later.”

“All right.”

She smiled at me. “I’m going to have to poke and prod a little. It’s not going to feel great. If it gets to be too much, just tell me.”

I nodded.

Doc’s fingers were gentle as she moved around my ribs. I squeezed my eyes closed as each press intensified my pain. She moved up an inch, exploring a new rib, and white-hot agony lanced me.

I couldn’t help the yelp that escaped my lips.

Doc’s hands were gone in a flash, but it was too late. The door flew open, and six feet five inches of pissed-off Nash filled the doorway.