Justice by Oleander - 2012 Watty Awards, Finalist

Chapter 4

© Carey MacLean, 2012

Chapter 4

Mika was relieved to not have had a run-in with Mark today.  She definitely needed to keep her head in the game.  It had been a chaotic day but she was relieved to find out that Rebecca Denton was taken off of her ventilator seeing as her lung had healed enough and the swelling along her airways had gone down where she was able to breathe on her own again.

Mika had made sure before taking off on her last shift, that Becky’s visitors would be monitored.  It turns out, since her being admitted, no one but the hospital staff had been in with her.  That scumbag of a husband of hers hadn’t even made an effort to show his undying love and support.  She knew all too well that Lance hadn’t been arrested.  Proof lay on the coffee table in the break-room when she walked in that morning.  Right there, front and center on the first page of the Globe’s society pages was a picture of a handsomely smiling Lance Denton with his arms wrapped around an older gentleman on one side and a petite blonde woman who looked like she was barely out of high-school.  The article was a piece about a fundraising gala that was to be held later that evening for battered women and children.  Specifically, for a new shelter Denton’s firm was looking at building.

Mika’s blood turned cold, ice ran through her veins at that shocking discovery.

The hypocrite!  If only they knew, she shouted within the confines of her mind.

Of course, when it came up to high-society people, everyone surrounding them turned a blind eye.  It was amazing how some people could be completely oblivious to one’s character when that person started to shower their money, flashed smiles, shook the right hands, and kissed the right ass.

As she entered Rebecca Denton’s room and took in the sight that beheld her, Mika was reminded once more why she was doing what she had already done eleven times over.  Still, her conscience weighed heavily on her past actions.  The only victim of hers that she hadn’t felt guilty about had been Carter seeing as in her mind’s eye, her actions then had been fully justifiable and were ones of self-preservation.

“Becky,” Mika said softly as her patient turned to face her, “I’m Doctor-”

I know who you are, she wrote down on her dry-erase board before offering Mika a small smile in the form of pressed lips thanks to her jaw being wired shut still.

Mika nodded her understanding.

“How are you feeling today?”  She asked the woman.

In pain, she wrote and attempted to clear her throat.  But I’ll survive.

“I’ll see what we can do for that,” Mika said.

Nothing for pain.  Awake for when Lance comes, Becky explained with a slight hint of detectable fear in her eyes.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that,” Mika began.  “The police are going to-”

NO!  She wrote frantically.  No police. My fault!  So clumsy.

“Becky, you’re honestly not telling me that Lance never laid a hand on you?”  Mika eyed her suspiciously.

She knew the answer she’d get.  It was the same as every other patient she’d had come through those doors with the same plight.  The same answer she herself had given time and time again when she suffered at the hands of her husband.

Rebecca tried to shake her head and winced.  Taking a few breaths, she began writing on her board.

No police.  No reporting.  It will get worse.