One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)(13)

“I spoke with the detective handling the case from the police department,” I swallowed, my mouth dry. I hated referring to Yossarian as a “case.” It didn’t feel right. As though he were less a person.

“His name is Yossarian Frazier,” I said quickly.

Dr. Howell’s eyes widened in amusement. “Yossarian? What an interesting name.”

“It’s from Catch-22. John Yossarian, the fighter pilot,” I filled in.

Dr. Howell gave me a strange look, his eyebrows rising. “Yes, I’ve read the book. How do you know he’s named after the character? Did the detective tell you that?”

I felt my cheeks flame hot and I had to look away from the doctor’s penetrating gaze. “It was just a guess. I’ve never heard of another Yossarian, have you?” I answered lamely.

“No, I suppose I haven’t.”

I kept my mouth closed unless further incriminating myself.

“So did the detective have any other information about our friend?”

I looked down at the notes I had taken during the angry phone call, though I didn’t need to read them to remember what they said.

“Only that they aren’t going to do much to find the person who beat him up. To them, he’s just another homeless guy.” I sounded angry and bitter. I didn’t bother trying to hide it.

Dr. Howell made a noise of disgust. “That’s horrible. How can they look at someone who was hurt the way Mr. Frazier was and not want to seek justice. There’s something wrong with this world when we overlook the ones that need our help the most.”

“Exactly,” I agreed weakly.

“I was just about to check on him. Why don’t you come with me? We can discuss his prognosis a little bit more. I’m hoping he will wake up soon. I’ll order another CAT scan for this afternoon if he doesn’t.”

“I’ve started the paperwork for public assistance to cover his care while he’s here. I’ll have it submitted by the end of the day,” I let the doctor know.

Dr. Howell headed towards room 102, but I didn’t follow right away.

The thought of going back into that room and seeing the once vibrant Yoss small and defeated in that bed…

“Are you coming, Imogen?”

I hesitated.

“Yes, sorry,” I said after a beat, following the doctor into Yoss’s hospital room.

Dr. Howell looked down at the chart and made a few notes. “We’re still waiting on the results of the blood panels, until then I’ve ordered a course of antibiotics to be on the safe side and given the severity of his injuries, the likelihood for infection is high.”

The doctor pulled back the curtain and we walked over to Yoss’s bed. Dr. Howell looked at the various monitors and I looked down at the man who had once been the boy I loved.

The boy I loved.

“Tomorrow you can tell me why you don’t have any options.”

My savior. My protector.

He had helped me when he didn’t have to.

He had taken care of me. He had made sure I was warm. Fed. That I had a place to lay my head at night.

Even when he couldn’t keep himself safe, he made sure that I had been. He put me first. Always.

God, I had missed him.

I had forced myself to forget how much.

“He looks pretty rough, but that swelling should go down in a few days. He’ll have a colorful face for a while though.” Dr. Howell pulled down the hospital gown and placed the stethoscope on Yoss’s chest. I noticed the scars. Lots of them.

His scars had scared me in the beginning. I had been frightened to touch them. I had learned they were a part of him. The ugly part. The part I wished he would change.

There were more of them now. A lot more. Some of them so large and so deep I didn’t want to think how he had gotten them.

“I’m scared to touch you,” he whispered, his lips quivering, his green eyes full.

My blood whooshed noisily in my ears and I felt a little lightheaded. We were so close, but I wanted to be closer.

So did he. But I could tell that the idea terrified him.

“Don’t be,” I murmured, reaching out and placing my palm over his heart. He was beautiful. And right now, in this moment, he was mine.

“There’s a lot of old scar tissue and badly healed breaks in his hands and arms. I hope he wakes up soon so he can tell us what happened to him.” Dr. Howell looped the stethoscope around his neck and made a few last notes in the chart. He reached down and patted Yoss’s arm gently. “We’ll take care of you. You’re safe here,” the older doctor promised the motionless man.

I shivered.

“You’re safe, Imi.”

His remembered voice rang in my ears.

“Are you coming, Imogen?” Dr. Howell said, breaking me free of my thoughts.

“I’m going to finish my assessment. I’ll stop by your office later and we can discuss his…case,” I replied.

After Dr. Howell left, I forced myself to sit again by his side. I stared long and hard at his face, trying to find the person I used to know somewhere beneath the cuts and bruises.

He was so much thinner than he used to be. I carefully turned his arm over and ran a thumb along smooth, unblemished skin, relieved there were no track marks.

Someone had shaved part of his head when they had stitched up his scalp, but I could still see some of the black hair I used to love running my fingers through.