Homeless

Chapter 19

The coffee wasn't as good as I'd wanted, but it pleasantly burned down my throat and warmed my chest. Nathaniel barely got me to eat some toast. I couldn't stomach anything. The need to tell them and be done with it was too consuming.

Although telling them would only be the beginning.

We were sitting at a table in the hospital canteen. The white tables and chairs and the beige flooring would have made the place dull if not for the floor to ceiling glass windows, looking over a green garden, and the colorful menu board on top of the counter.

Nurses and doctors scattered around the sprawling space. Worn-out looking people hunched over coffee. A chair scraped against the floor, drowning out the constant hum of conversation.

Chris' phone rang. He checked the caller's ID before nodding at Nathaniel. "The men are here. I'll go work the details out with the hospital."

After Chris left, Nathaniel explained. "We think it's better if there are a few bodyguards around. At least for a while."

Right. Chris owned a private security company. "From his company?"

"Yes," Nathaniel said, wrapping his hands around his Styro cup. "He's going to station some in front of Mark's room before coordinating with the hospital security."

I would have to thank Chris.

"If he hadn't shown up yesterday..." I trailed off, then shook my head. I didn't even want to think about that scenario.

Nathaniel squeezed my knee. "I would've found you. We're lucky he happened to be around. But even if he didn't, I would've found you."

His words were spoken with such undeniable conviction, they rang as the truth. I smiled at him, relieved. He would find me. If anyone could do it, it would be him.

"Wait, what happened to the man who was trying to kidnap Mark?" I asked. With Mark hurt, I had completely forgotten about him.

"Dead," Nathaniel said. "He died on the way to the hospital."

I couldn't say I was heartbroken about it.

Chris returned shortly after. "Everything is set." He looked around the canteen. It was slowly getting crowded as people came in for breakfast. "I think we should talk somewhere more private."

We ended up back in the room I woke up in. Perks of being an important benefactor of the hospital. Apparently Nathaniel was very charitable.

I sat on the edge of the bed, refusing Nathaniel's offer to take the armchair. I needed to look at both of them.

I linked my hands in my lap to keep the tremors away. Bright sunlight streamed in through the window and touched the carpet and walls with golden fingers. A brief reprieve from the gray weather. I took it as a good sign.

Straightening my back, I looked at the men and took a deep breath.

"Chris, I don't know if Nathaniel told you about where I came from."

Chris shook his head, leaning forward in his seat with his elbows on his knees. Nathaniel shifted, his dark eyes fixed on me.

"No, he hasn't," Chris said.

"Okay," I said. "When he decided to take us in, I felt that he needed to know what I... was before. So I told him part of the truth. That I grew up in a brothel."

If Chris was surprised, he didn't show it. I continued. "My mother was a worker there. Although worker is a misnomer. I don't know who my father is, or Mark's father. Anyway, this is mostly the extent of what Nathaniel knows. But it's not entirely accurate."