“John, it's Brian”, he said when his superior answered his phone. “I have an unsettling situation here I need your input on.”

“What's going on, Brian?”

Brian told him about Marissa, the unauthorized and unjust beating Tomas gave her, and her budding friendship with someone she wouldn't name. “John, I don't know why they recruited her. She's from a large, tight knit family – they should have known the isolation of living alone and not being able to form close relationships would get to her.”

“I don't know why they overlooked that, but between you, me and the fence post, I agree - it was a stupid choice. Do you think she will give us away to her friend?”

“I don't think she would say anything intentionally – I trust her on that. However, I'm concerned that something would slip out accidentally.”

“You say she's your best worker?”

“She is – I would hate to lose her.”

“All right, keep an eye on her. If this friendship escalates or you fear she may have let something slip, we'll look at sending her to a different location, far away from Denver.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Braxton took the leftover macaroni and cheese out of the fridge, turned off all the lights, and left the office for the day. It was just before 6:00pm. He had called Marissa to tell her he would pick her up around 6:30 as he wanted to take the food home first. He didn't know how long they'd be so he felt it best to not leave it in the car. He had expected to find a voicemail from her cancelling, but to his surprise, there were no messages. He'd been too afraid to ask her if she was going to go to his place after they were done at Gavin's.

On his way home, he made a call he'd been dreading, but he'd avoided it long enough. He put in the number, then placed his phone in it's holder on the dash, setting it to speaker.

“Hello”, Gael Brennan said when he answered on the 4th ring.

“Hi, Mr Brennan, it's Braxton Jagger.”

“Oh, hi Dr Jagger. Can you call back later? We're milking right now.”

“Okay, but it will have to be next week. I'm busy all weekend.”

“Have you found Marissa?”

“Yes.”

“Just a minute. Let me tell the guys to finish up without me. I don't want to wait until next week to find out about her, good or bad.”

He came back to the phone a few minutes later. “Is Marissa all right?”

Braxton sighed. “Mr Brennan, I really deliberated on whether to tell you or not....”

“Please tell me, Dr Jagger. Even if it's the worst, we need to know.”

“She's alive – and please call me Braxton.”

“Okay, call me Gael. How is she? Tell me, please.”

“To be honest, I'm worried about her. She's been beaten up, quite badly.”

“By whom?”

“I don't know. She won't tell me. She says it's for my safety but she won't elaborate.”

“How bad is it?”

“She's bruised all over her abdomen and back – and I think her wrist is broken. There's a nasty cut on it, too.”

“Has she been to the ER?”

“The cut was stitched up by someone she calls Mike, but a few stitches came out – the remaining ones look pretty sloppy. I'm on my way to get her right now, then I'm taking her to get x-rays and after that, to see a friend of mine who is a physician.”

“How is she emotionally?”

“She's in a lot of pain, so that affects a person's mood. She said that there is something she wants to tell me but she can't for my safety. We only met a couple weeks ago and she doesn't know me, so I understand her reluctance. I don't know what she means by it being for my safety that she won't tell me.”

“Do you think it would help if I talked to her?”

“It might, I don't know. She hasn't said anything about why she hasn't contacted you. I've asked her to stay with me for a few days so that she doesn't have to worry about taking care of herself and I'm hoping she says 'yes'. I'm also hoping to be able to get her to talk once she trusts me.”

“I'll be honest with you, Braxton. After our last conversation, I checked you out. You are well thought of and a lot of your patients and former patients have very good things to say about you. I feel comfortable about my daughter staying with you.”

“I would never harm her.”

“I know. Please let me know how it goes.”

“I will.”

Marissa decided to lie down while waiting for Braxton to get there. She was in a lot of pain and not wanting to leave her bed. After much deliberation, she reached for her phone on the nightstand. It was after 6:00 so she called Braxton's cell.

“Hi Marissa, I'm almost there.”

“Braxton, I-I can't go.”

“Why not?”

“I just can't – I'm in too much pain.”

“Where are you?”

“At home.”

“I mean, where in your apartment?”

“Bedroom. I'm lying down.”

“I'm pulling into the parking space. Stay there, I'll be up shortly.”

A few minutes later, she heard the key in the lock, then Braxton walked into her bedroom. He sat down on the bed. “You don't look good”, he said.

“I don't feel good.”

“Is it just your wrist?”

“No, my back, too.”

“It's important that you get those x-rays, Marissa. Gavin ordered them for your wrist and your back. Have you taken your pain medication?”

“I took some an hour ago.”

“Is it helping?”

“Not really.”

“Where is the bottle?” He looked around but didn't see one on either of the nightstands or her dresser.

“It's in my purse.”

“On the chair?” She nodded. He got up and went to the chair to get it. He noticed a small suitcase on the floor. “Does this mean you are coming to stay with me?”

“I planned to, but I don't know if I can handle the ride over.”

Braxton sat down again and handed her the purse. “Take the bottle out. I want to see it.”

“Why?”

“I want to see what it is and the dosage.”

“It's Percocet.”

“Let me see, Marissa.”

Reluctantly, she reached into her purse and brought the vial out. Braxton held his hand out and she gave it to him. He looked at the piece of paper taped to the outside. On it was written:

Percocet

Take two tablets every 6 hours as needed.

There was no prescribing physician's name and no pharmacy name. “Where did you get these?” he asked. She was silent. “Marissa, please tell me.”

“I can't!” she blurted out. “I'm sorry.”

Braxton could tell she'd been crying and now another tear made it's way down her face. “Hey”, he said. “Don't stress yourself. Why were you crying?” She was silent again. “From the pain?” She nodded. “Okay, sweetie, you really need to get those x-rays – tonight. That wrist needs to be set if it is indeed broken – and I'd bet it is – and if there is damage to your back, that needs to be dealt with as well. The sooner, the better. You were raised on a farm, correct?”

“Yes.” Marissa wondered where this was going.

“Surely, you've been injured before.”

“Oh, yes. I've been kicked by horses and cows and bit by horses. But I've never had this much pain since...” Realizing what she had been about to say, she let the sentence hang.

“Since what?”

“I can't say.”

“Since your Achilles tendons were cut.”

Marissa's eyes went wide and she sat up. “How did you know about that?”

“I talked to your father.”

“What?”

“After that day when we first met and you pulled a disappearing act. You weren't at the address I had for you, so I called him, hoping he'd know where you were.”

“How did you get his number?”

“There is this modern thing called computers”, he teased, trying to get a smile out of her. He semi succeeded – she half smiled. “I googled your last name in Alberta and found some listings for the town that is on your driver's licence – which you showed to me when you felt a need to prove to me who you are. I called the first number and it was your cousin, Brooke. She gave me your parents' number.” He saw the look on her face. “Don't be upset, I was just so concerned after you took off from the hospital.”

“What did my dad say?” she asked. “Are they okay?”

“They are very worried, Marissa. It's killing them to not know where you are or what happened to you. They told me about the cutting of your Achilles tendons and of you disappearing without a trace six months later.”

“I'm sure they were getting over it. Now you've probably opened old wounds.”

“No, parents never get over their child disappearing. I've had a couple patients over the years whose children have gone missing and were never found. They never got over it, even after extensive therapy. And it destroyed the marriage of one couple, which is not uncommon.”

“They have to – get over it. I can't go home.”

“Why not?”

“I-I just can't!” She looked like she was going to burst into tears.

“All right, we won't worry about that right now. Let's get your injuries taken care of and I want you to relax for tonight and tomorrow. We'll come back to this on the weekend if you feel up to it by then. Come here.” Braxton shifted his position and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. It felt so good – she hadn't had a hug in a few years. “Please come with me to get the x-rays and to see Gavin.” He released her and reached for a tissue on her nightstand, using it to dry her tears.

“Are you allowed to do this?”

“With a patient, no. But you aren't my patient, as you keep reminding me. Where is your wheelchair?”

“In the living room.”

Braxton put the vial of pills in his pocket, then got the chair and helped Marissa into it. He picked up her suitcase and set it on her lap. Pushing her out of the bedroom, he asked if she wanted to wash her face before they left. She said she did, so he took her to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, they were in his car heading for the nearest lab that did x-rays. “Marissa, I need to tell you, I talked to your father again tonight on my way here”, he said when they were on their way.

“Why?”

“I had promised him that I would call him if I found you.”

“What did you tell him?”

“The truth. That you've been beaten up and won't tell me by whom.” Marissa groaned. “I felt like I owed it to him to be honest. I'd want the same honesty if it were my child.”

“Do you have children?”

“Not to my knowledge, but if I did, I'd want to know, even if it was bad news. And that's how your father feels.”

“Have you told him about thinking I'm someone else?”

“You mean about knowing that you are June Rivers? No. And I haven't told him about your kidney tumour either, just the stones.”

“Thank you”, she said in a barely audible voice. He didn't push the fact that she'd just basically admitted to being June.

A while later, they were seated in Gavin Wood's office. “How are your kidney stones?” the doctor asked Marissa after pleasantries had been exchanged.

“Much better. I passed one more after I saw you.”

“I'm glad that is doing better, though it's only temporary – there are more in there, but you have other things to worry about right now. Your wrist is definitely broken, in two places, and from the looks of the radiographs, you may done further damage by using your hand on your crutch.”

“You can set it, right?”

“You need to be seen by an orthopedic surgeon. There is one waiting for you right now at Denver General.”

“No, no surgery. Just please set it so I can go home.”

“Marissa, you also need to get the cut restitched”, Braxton said.

“Can you do that, Dr Wood?”

“I can, but I really want you to see the ortho guy.”

Braxton spoke again. “Can she do that tomorrow or Monday? She's really tired, her pain is wearing her out.”

“That would be up to Ryan Duncan. Let me see the wrist, then I will call him back.” He unwrapped Marissa's dressings and looked at the cut on the underside of her lower arm “Who the hell did these stitches?” he asked. Marissa remained silent. “Never mind, it doesn't matter now. It's a mess. I'm going to call Ryan, but let me wrap this back up first.”

Marissa and Braxton waited in the exam room while Gavin made the call. When he was finished, he came back in and sat down. “Ryan is coming over to talk to you”, he said to Marissa. “He said he can't operate tonight anyway, so he's bringing some dressing material over.” Marissa breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, let's talk about your back while we wait. The radiographs didn't show any damage, but there are things that won't show up on x-rays. I'd like to take a look at you. Can you get up on the table?”

Marissa shook her head. “No, I can't.”

“You physically can't or you don't want to?”

“I physically can't.”

“What if I lifted you up?” Braxton asked her. “Would you be okay with that?”

“Yes, that would be okay but I don't want you to hurt yourself.”

“I'm not going to hurt myself lifting you. You aren't even normal weight.”

“Have you always been this thin?” Gavin asked.

“No. Just since …. my accident.” It wasn't a total lie as she'd been a bit chunky at that time, but she'd been born prematurely and had failed to thrive as a young child.

“That was no accident”, Braxton said. “She doesn't eat very much”, he said to Gavin. “She says it's easier to have a few crackers than cook.”

“You really need to eat better than that, Marissa. Braxton, what did you mean by 'that was no accident'?”

“Tell him, Marissa”, Braxton urged her. She remained silent. “It's okay, you can trust Gavin.”

“You tell him.”

“All I can tell you is what her father told me when I talked to him.” Braxton lifted Marissa out of the wheelchair and set her on the table. “She was run off the road and dragged from her car. Her Achilles tendons were cut and a piece removed from each, making reattachment harder. It's only through her own force of will that she is able to walk with crutches.”

Gavin gasped. “My God! Why?”

“A motive was never found, but she disappeared without a trace about six months later.”

“Marissa, do you know who did this to you?” Marissa nodded. “Who? And why?”

“I don't know exactly who, like their names or anything.”

“What do you know?”

“I can't tell you. It's for your own safety.”

“That's what she keeps telling me”, Braxton said.

“Let's drop it for now. Marissa, I want to check you over, is that okay?” She nodded. Gavin did the basics – heart, lungs, reflexes etc. He pushed her blouse up and felt along her spine, asking her where it hurt. Then he asked her to lie down and had her raise each leg as far as she could, first with his help, then on her own. Next, he removed her socks and shoes and pushed her pant legs up so he could test for sensation by touching her with a pin all along each leg and foot. He noticed there was a bandage on her right knee. “What happened here?”

“Just a cut. It's stitched.”

Gavin loosened the bandage and looked underneath it. “The stitches are still in place, but keep an eye on it. Give me a call if any come out.” He palpated her abdomen, looking for tender areas. When he was finished, he helped her to a sitting position and Braxton picked her up again and put her back in the wheelchair. He helped her get her socks and shoes back on.

“I think your back is just bruised”, Gavin said to her. “You need to take it easy and rest for a few weeks. If it doesn't improve, I'll get an MRI. I'm pretty sure there's no internal bleeding, if there was, you'd have been in distress long before now. Let me go see if Ryan is here yet.”

After the doctor left the room, Braxton said “I can leave if you want privacy. I should have offered while Gavin was examining you.”

“No, it's okay”, she replied. “If I didn't want you in the room, I'd have said so. Please stay.”

Braxton was pleasantly surprised. He hadn't expected this reaction. She seems to be trusting me more and more, he thought.

Gavin returned with Ryan Duncan, the orthopedic surgeon. Introductions were made and Ryan unwrapped Marissa's bandaging and looked at her wrist. “As you know, two bones are broken and I hear you made it worse by using that hand. You need pins put in to help it heal. I think I can get you on the schedule for tomorrow, I don't want it to wait until next week.”

“No, no surgery. Please just set it so I can go home.”

“I didn't come over here just to set it, Gavin could do that.”

“I'm sorry for wasting your time.” Marissa put her good hand on the wheel of her chair. “I'll just go home now.”

“You are not going home”, Braxton said in a firm voice. “We are going to figure this out right now.”

“There's nothing to figure out. I appreciate you taking me for x-rays and bringing me here, but I can't do what he wants me to do.”

“Why can't you?” Gavin asked.

“I don't have insurance.”

“We can work around that”, Ryan said to her.

Braxton could tell Marissa was getting stressed. “Ryan, could you and Gavin give us a few minutes alone? I'd like to talk to Marissa in private.”

“Sure, but like I said, we can work around no insurance. If Marissa wants to regain full use of her hand – and I understand that she needs both hands to walk with her crutches – she *needs* this surgery.”

“Marissa, you need to do this”, Braxton said to her when they were alone.

“I can't afford it.”

“You have insurance.” She was silent. He put his hand on her good arm and gave it a light squeeze. “Come on, Marissa, you know that I know that you are June. I haven't called the police, have I?” She shook her head.

“I can't tell them!” she exclaimed, meaning Gavin and Ryan.

“You can trust Gavin. I know him and he won't say anything since you make your payments and there's no intent to defraud.”

“What about Dr Duncan?”

“I don't know. Let me ask Gavin.”

“But if I go to the hospital, they will call Dr Maynard!”

“You let me deal with Gideon Maynard.”

Braxton got up and left the room to talk to Gavin. When he returned, he had his friend with him. “Braxton told me about your insurance”, Gavin said. “Can I ask why you have it in a fake name?”

Marissa had finally thought of a plausible lie. “I don't want to be found”, she said.

“Who don't you want to find you?”

“My family.”

“Have they hurt you?” Braxton asked.

“No, but I just don't want them to find me.”

“We can worry about the whys later”, Gavin said. “Right now, it's important to get that wrist taken care of. Let me go talk to Ryan. I'm pretty sure he will agree.”

“What if he doesn't?” She asked Braxton when they were again alone in the room.

“Agree? Don't worry about things that have not happened.”

“I can't help it. If I get put in jail, my family will be in danger.”

“You aren't going to be put in jail. But how would that endanger your family?”

“I can't tell you.”

“For my own safety, right?”

“Yes.” She was pretty sure that if she landed in jail, the Cartel would go after her family if they found out she'd told people she was using a fake name. They would look at it as her fault that she was incarcerated and unable to do drug runs and they would want to teach her a lesson.

Braxton sighed and put his hand over her good one. He squeezed it in a gesture of support. “Marissa, I hope that some day you will trust me enough to tell me what is going on with you.”

“I wish I could, Braxton – tell you, I mean. It isn't a matter of trust.”

Just then, the door opened and Gavin and Ryan entered the room. Gavin spoke first. “Marissa, I explained everything to Ryan and you are going to have the surgery.”

“Here's what we are going to do”, Ryan said. “I have not started a chart on you yet, nor is there anything in the computer. I will put the chart in the name of June Marissa Rivers-Brennan, and you will call your insurance company and have their records updated to reflect that name. Just tell them that Rivers is your mother's maiden name and Marissa is your preferred name to be called. Does that sound acceptable? Remember, you really need this surgery.”

“Okay”, she relented. The Cartel never looked into their insurance records so she wasn't worried about them finding out about the name that way.

Ryan continued “I am going to set those bones now and wrap your wrist again. I'll use a fibreglass strip on the inside and outside of your wrist to keep it immobile. I'd prefer that you ice it tonight to get that swelling down, but I don't want you removing those strips, so I will wrap it tightly before putting them on. Hopefully, that will help to reduce the swelling.” He rummaged around in the bag he'd brought with him, taking out a vial and syringe. “I brought some morphine because setting a fractured bone is painful.”

“Won't that make me sick?”

“That is a common side effect, so I brought some Gravol to help with that.” He took another vial and needle out. “I need you lying on the table to give the injections.” Braxton got her up again and Ryan gave her the shots. “We'll give these a few minutes to work, then I'll get to it. You can sit beside the table and rest your arm on it.”

When Ryan had set the bones, he put a dressing on the wound and wrapped Marissa's wrist as tight as he could without inhibiting circulation. Then he put the fibreglass strips in place and wrapped them up to keep them there. Finally, he applied water to set the strips. “Marissa, it is imperative that you not use that hand – for anything, but especially not for walking. I don't know if you can walk with just one crutch. If you can't, then use a wheelchair. Do you have someone to stay with you and help you out with things?”

“She's staying at my place for the weekend”, Braxton said.

“Good. Can you get her to the hospital tomorrow if I can fit her in the OR schedule?”

“After 11:00, yes. I have a few patients in the morning.”

“I will try and get it scheduled for afternoon. Nothing to eat after midnight. You can have clear fluids until 4 hours before the surgery time. That means nothing in your tea or coffee, and only clear pop – like ginger ale. You can have apple juice but not orange juice”, he instructed Marissa. “I'm going to write you a prescription for Vicodin for the pain. If you are nauseous, you can pick up some oral Gravol while you are at the pharmacy.”

“Ryan, could she have a biopsy while she's under?” Braxton asked. He'd had an idea – maybe she would be willing to do that if she was already having surgery for something else.

“What kind of biopsy?”

“Kidney tumour. Gideon Maynard is her oncologist.”

“If Gideon is available and willing to do it at that time, I don't see why not.”

“No, Braxton”, Marissa said. “I don't want it.”

“Why don't you want it?” Ryan asked her.

“I just don't!”

“Ryan, I'll talk to her later, we can't schedule anything this late in the day anyway”, Braxton said to him.

“Is she your patient?”

“No, a friend. I think I can talk her into it, though.”

“Okay, let me know what gets decided.”

Forty-five minutes later, they were at Braxton's. He took the lunch leftovers out of the fridge and set them in the microwave to heat up. “Braxton, I don't want any. I'm tired and I don't feel like eating.”

“Please try to eat some – just a little bit”, he encouraged. “You have only had a few bites all day. You need more than that. I'm surprised you haven't got sick from malnutrition.”

“I take a multi vitamin every day.”

“Still, you need to eat better.”

They sat at the kitchen table to have their meal. Braxton kept the conversation light. He knew Marissa was in a lot of pain and now wasn't the time to push her about the kidney tumour. He'd talk to her about the biopsy in the morning, before he went to work.

Marissa ate more than she thought she would. “This is really good”, she told him. “Maybe you should have been a chef.”

“That might have been a second career choice, but I love being a therapist. It's so satisfying to be able to help people with their problems.”

“It must be frustrating at times, though. And depressing.”

“Sometimes. But the good outweighs the bad. Are you finished? Let me take your plate. I'll do the dishes tomorrow – I think we are both ready for bed. How are you going to change? You cannot use your left hand.”

“I'll manage.”

“I can help you if you like. We'll do it in such a way that I don't see much – I can pull your blouse up over your head from the back so I won't see your breasts. And I'll put your nightie on the same way.”

Marissa knew she didn't have much choice. She didn't see any way to undress with just one hand – especially taking her bra off. It was with great effort – and pain – that she had gotten it on.

Braxton did as he said he would do. To take her pants off, he got her to lie under the covers across the bed and undo the button and zipper. He reached under the blankets, told her to lift her butt, and pulled them off without seeing anything. He wasn't sure how he would help her get them on the next day.

When Marissa had adjusted her position and was ready to go to sleep, he said to her “I'd like you to think about what was said about doing that biopsy tomorrow. It would get Gideon Maynard off my back – and off yours. I don't know how much longer I can hold him off on signing that form.”

“Okay, I will think about it.”

“Good. Sleep well, I'll see you in the morning.” He got up and turned off the bedside lamp before exiting the room.