A Prescription for Love

Chapter Fifteen

This is different from the norm. In all of the stories that I've read or that I've seen, all of the characters are disgustingly perfect unless they are written with very clear flaws. This story is about love (um, duh! Look who's writing it. I'm the queen of romance), and finding it in the least likely place with the least likely person.

Now, this story is based in a hospital. My medical training comes from...WebMD. I'm not a doctor, nor do I claim to be. I'm a music teacher who has a wild imagination and a penchant for all things Twilight (and with this story, added in a mix of ER! I loved Luca Kovac...) Which brings me to my disclaimer: None of this is mine. I'm not, nor ever will be, Stephenie Meyer. If was, I'd be rolling in the dough from her insane imagination that gave us Bella and Edward. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Fifteen

EPOV

However, her pocket was ringing. "Crap," she hissed, picking up the phone. "I don't recognize the number."

"Do you want me to answer it?" I asked. She nodded and handed me the phone. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry...I was looking for an Isabella Swan?" came a male voice.

"Who is this?" I asked.

"Assistant State's Attorney Roger Phelps," he replied. "We have some news about her father."

"Hold on," I said. "It's an attorney, Roger Phelps. He's got news about Charlie."

"Put him on speaker," Bella said. I pressed the speaker button. "Yes, Mr. Phelps?"

"Ms. Swan? I'm calling to inform you that your father was released on bail earlier this morning," he said. "You do have a restraining order against him and that's in effect until your trial. If he comes within five hundred feet of you, call the police and he'll be thrown back in jail."

"How did he get out, Mr. Phelps? How did he get the money?" Bella asked, her voice tight with anger.

"The money was paid via money order through Mr. Swan's bank," Roger explained. "How he got it was not disseminated to me. I'm sorry. However, you needed to be notified that your father has been released. He's been placed on house arrest, only to go out for employment and physical therapy."

"My dad is unemployed, Mr. Phelps," Bella explained.

"Apparently, he was hired as a super in his apartment building by Sam Uley. Do you have any more questions, Ms. Swan?"

"No, thank you," she whispered.

"Have a good day, Ms. Swan." Mr. Phelps hung up the phone. Bella held the phone in her hand, staring at it blankly.

"Bella? Talk to me, love," I said as I held her close.

"I need one of my pills," she said, her voice sounding strangled.

"I've got some in my medicine cabinet in my office," I said calmly, moving her off my lap. I swiped a xanax for her and handed it to her. She took the pill dry and grimaced as it went down. "Do you want to go home?"

"No, I'm fine," she choked out.

"Do you want to talk to Michele?" I pressed.

"Can I get some time to myself?" she asked, looking at me. "Take my lunch break now."

"Sure, sweet girl. Do you want anything?"

"Can I use some paper? I need to journal and it's sitting at home," she sighed. I nodded and handed her a pad of paper. "I'll be out in a half hour."