“No, Bridge. Don’t go,” Eva said, relieved by her friend’s excellent timing.
“Yes, please stay. We were just finishing up.” James took the phone from Eva and stepped away from the bed, allowing Bridget space to squeeze by. “If you remember anything else, your mom knows how to reach me. Thank you for your time.” He lingered awkwardly for a moment before leaving.
“Swoon,” Bridget said as soon as the door closed. “I’d lie in that hospital bed too if I knew he was going to come check on me.” They laughed and she climbed onto the bed and curled up next to Eva. Her bright orange sweats looked out of place against the sterility of the hospital room. “But seriously, Eva. You okay?”
“I’ll be a lot better once I get out of this place and have time to process everything. I can’t believe what’s happening.”
Bridget held her hand and Eva leaned against her.
“Your mom’s talking to the lab coats out there. They’re saying you’re some kind of miracle,” Bridget said, removing a piece of lint from Eva’s gown.
“A miracle?”
“Yep. One of the doctors said that he’s never seen anyone heal so quickly. At least that’s what they were discussing out there.”
Bridget’s shoulder shook, and Eva sat up to face her friend.
“I thought you were dead,” she sobbed. “I didn’t want to say anything to your mom, but I never thought they would find you. I’m so sorry for not believing in you. I’m a horrible person and a horrible friend.”
“No you’re not. I couldn’t have picked a better person to be best friends with.” Eva wrapped Bridget in a hug, and they cried together.
“Oh God,” Bridget sniffled. “This is not attractive.” They let go of each other, and used the rough blanket to wipe their faces. “We can’t be all puffy faced. Not with Hot Detective in the building.” She smiled.
Lori entered the room with the doctor in tow, and Bridget hopped off of the bed.
“Welcome back, Eva.” The woman looked like every other doctor she’d ever seen: long white coat, light green pants, and a disinterested and almost inconvenienced look on her face. Her rehearsed smile revealed teeth matching the clean white of the walls. “Your mom tells me that you’re having a hard time remembering what happened. That’s not uncommon after a traumatic experience, but we’ll keep an eye on it. Overall, how are you feeling?”
She shrugged. “I’m a little sore, and my muscles are kind of tight. Other than that, I feel fine.”
“What about your arm? The tattoo. Any swelling or pain?”
“Tattoo?” Her hand flew to the bandage covering her left forearm. She tore at it until the gauze fell in pieces on the bed. The charcoal tree gleamed in the fluorescent lighting. Her stomach churned and the unsettling laughter invaded her thoughts.
“W…What is this?” Her eyes filled with tears as the voice thundered between her temples.
Fight for your life!
The room spun, then went dark.
Twenty-Four
Eva came to a moment later to the sound of voices and the feel of the doctor’s gloved hand against her cheek. The doctor stiffened. “I assumed that you knew about the tattoo.”
“Well, she didn’t. Not yet,” Bridget said defensively. “Thanks for totally fucking up that reveal.”
“Dr. Cole, can I talk to you outside for a moment?” Lori left the room without waiting for the doctor’s reply.
Bridget flipped her hair and glared at the closing door. “Can you believe that doctor? What a total bitch.”
“How did I get this?” Eva stared at her arm, ignoring the snot creeping down her upper lip.
“Don’t worry about that. Just put the tape back over it and concentrate on getting your strength back.” She collected the chunks of gauze and unsuccessfully tried to reapply them over the tattoo.
“I have my strength back, Bridget. Right now, I need you to answer my question. How did I get this giant tree on my arm?”
Bridget dropped her smile and chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Whoever took you, he did it. But not just to you, to his other victim too.”
“There’s someone else with this tattoo? Where are they?”
“Dead,” Bridget said with a squeak.
“This is too much. I’ve got to get out of here.” The pounding behind her eyes returned as she yanked back the thin blankets. “I can’t sit in this bed for another minute.”
“Just wait, okay? Here.” Bridget picked up Eva’s contact case and handed it to her. “Put your contacts in, and I’ll freshen up your face with a little makeup and tjuz your awful bedhead. We’re in the twenty-first century. You can get that tattoo removed in, like, five seconds. Besides, if you let it get to you, he wins.”
“What do I do?” Eva took off her glasses and stuck her contacts in her eyes.