The Outcast MC - Reaper # 1

Chapter 11

Vanessa arrives in the morning, bringing breakfast and coffee from a fast food restaurant. Despite my disheveled appearance, I find her especially adorable to come to check on me shortly after 7:00 in the morning. I'm still groggy from taking a double dose of my medication to compensate for the missed dose. My disheveled state, coupled with the effects of the medication, makes me look like a drug addict. My t-shirt is twisted, resembling a bra, and my shorts have slipped through the slit, resembling a thong. Vanessa's gaze lingers on my stomach as she stutters when I invite her in.

I smile and assure her, "Yeah, it's starting to look like a Pollock's, but nothing is broken." I point to the cup she hands me, asking if she added any sugar or milk, but she replies that it's black. I adjust my t-shirt and shorts, jokingly reclaiming my modesty.

I try to lighten the situation with humor, but Vanessa embraces me, feeling guilty as if it were her fault that I was assaulted.

"Vanessa, come on, it was a random act of violence. Don't blame yourself for it. How are you holding up? If you need a place to stay, you can always come here," I offer.

"You're kind, Liz," she replies.

"That's what friends are for. I need to use the bathroom. The medication they gave me is terrible," I inform her.

She bids me goodbye, mentioning that she has an early start this morning.

"I'll try to drop by today, if I can manage to stay awake. Thank you, Vanessa," I say with a smile, hugging her before closing the door.

After applying a homemade pain cream, I wrap a supportive bandage around my waist and get dressed. It provides some relief, but it's still a bit challenging to get into the car and buckle up. The weather outside is perfect, making me yearn for a bike ride. Frustrated that I'm unable to do so, I swallow another pill, only to realize that it was my last one.

I try to recall how many pills were in the bottle, but my memory fails me.

After realizing that I can't remember how many pills I've taken since yesterday, I decide to stop at a florist before going to the hospital. I want to get flowers for the person who took care of me to show my gratitude for her kindness and patience. At the reception, I'm directed to a waiting room where the doctor will see me for a consultation. Despite the discomfort, I manage to sit down. She receives other patients before me, but notices my presence, without saying anything, just a slight smile when she sees the bouquet.

"Miss Farmer," she finally calls me.

"Hello, Doctor Wallace," I greeted her, having managed to extract myself from the bucket seat.

"Coming to visit a patient?" she asks, pointing to the flowers.

"No, it's for the nurse who took care of me, to thank her for her kindness and her patience, I know I can be a bit tiring at times.

"No nurse took care of you, it was only me.v

"This is for you, Doctor," I smiled.

"Thank you, that was not necessary.v

"Yes. A rumor circulates that I would have been... enterprising with you. I want to clarify the situation and blame the morphine.

"It's forgotten."

"Really?" I asked with exaggerated disappointment. "I will try my best not to show my sadness. Doctor, I need you to refill my prescription, my bottle is empty.

"What the hell have you done, Elizabeth?"

She's mad?

The familiarity and tone surprise me.