Stepbrother (Sequel to Stockholm Syndrome)

59

Within the next couple of hours, Luke had complained his way out of having to stay another night for observation. Since I'd met him, Luke had always been calm, composed, and very mature; today was a different story. Although he still acted sane enough to convince the doctors that his concussion was healed, he fought them every time they tried to get him to stay one more night.

"You don't understand, I don't have anyone to feed my cat," he'd complained at one point. The doctor, a middle-aged man, had tried to calm him down, but it was to no avail as Luke had exclaimed, "DAISY CAN'T STARVE! She's been my companion since I was a baby! If anything happens to her, I am suing this hospital, and I'll make sure everyone in this department specifically loses their jobs!"

"Sir..." the doctor seemed dumbfounded by this young-looking boy who seemed to have a crazy-cat-lady trapped inside of him. "Sir... are you sure you don't want to stay one more... night?... I'm worried your head injury might still be... present," he cast Luke a wary glance. Luke opened his mouth to interject, but I beat him to it.

"He always talks about his cat that way, sir," I smiled at him in assurance as I gained the attention of both men. "I think it'd be best to take him home, and if there's any sign that his injuries aren't healing properly, I promise I'll call right away," I said, lacing my tone with counterfeit honesty. The doctor looked at me quizzically.

"I thought you brought this man in claiming he was a John Doe, at least to you," he accused. I stopped myself from showing any hesitation.

"I'm so sorry for the mix-up, I was just really flustered at the time. He's my-"

"Father. Step-dad," Luke cut in.

"You seem rather young-"

"Sir, I'm twenty-eight, if you want to know what kind of moisturizer I use, I'll send you the information later," the amount of subtle sass that oozed out of Luke's response surprised me. The doctor cocked his eyebrows, but said nothing, just rubbed at his own forehead wrinkles in disdain.

"I'll go get your release forms," he conceded.

Once he left the room, Luke and I both grinned.

"Daisy?" I asked. "If you've had her your whole twenty-eight years of living, that's one old cat," I accused teasingly. Luke smiled and rolled his eyes.

"That's why it's so important I get home to feed her; she could drop dead any minute!" Luke feigned concern.

Slowly, our smiles and good moods dropped.

"So, what's your plan?" I asked.

"Well, as pissed as I am to say it, we can't go home for a while. I'm not sure whether those guys are waiting at the house for us or not, but, either way, it's not safe there. I'll find a hotel we can stay at for a while, and then we'll figure it out from there. I have half a mind to call the police, but I'm worried stuff about how I got you will come up, especially if anything gets taken to court," he said, thinking out loud a bit. I nodded.

"Honestly, I'm not sure they'd make the connection if we didn't drop any hints. But I don't know... It's up to you." Luke acknowledged that statement with a small grunt.

"How are you doing with the whole Travis thing?" He asked gently. I looked up to Luke's eyes solemnly.

"Well, I'm pretty calm about it right now, but I think I'm still in some shock. I just... I had no idea he had bad intentions- I thought he was a decent, stand-up guy," I said truthfully.

"So, did I," Luke replied sincerely. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to see it; I wasn't able to protect you from this."

"It's not your fault, Luke. You don't get to blame yourself for this, please. "

At that, the doctor walked back in.

"Here are your release forms. If you fill these out, you can bring them to the front desk, and you'll be discharged. Do you have any final questions?"

"I think we're all set right now. Thank you, doctor," I replied, giving him a false smile.

"You're welcome, young lady," he replied, giving me an equally fake smile before high tailing it out of the room.