Breathe. She’s okay. You’re here with her. She’s safe.
“My God.” The way her voice shakes, I can tell she’s deeply affected. There’s no way that Moe doesn’t care for Honor. I glance over my shoulder, taking in her white-blond hair, pale skin, and delicate features. She’s innocent, hurting, and needs a lot of help. Help I’m determined to get her.
“Yeah, and she thinks you fucking abandoned her.”
“I did no such thing.” Her tone is indignant. “She wouldn’t let me explain, but it’s not uncommon for a doctor to need to excuse themselves from giving treatment when they can’t be objective.” She takes on her doctor speak, but I don’t give a shit. All I care about is answers. How to get Honor back on track and getting the help she obviously needs.
“Nick, I offered to refer her to another doctor. My own, in fact. A female doctor she can connect with, someone I trust implicitly.”
“Fine. Great. Get her to the hospital.” I start pacing the corridor, ideas skipping through my mind. I make a mental checklist of items I can work on toward getting my girl back to a good place. “I want a set plan before they release her.”
“They’re going to want a psych consult anyway. I’ll come and ask Dr. Batchelor if she’s available to come too. Introduce her and schedule her sessions.” She sniffs, and her voice lowers. “I’m really sorry, Nick. I wish I could do more. No, I will do more. I like Honor very much, and if the fear in your voice is any indication, you do too. Which means I’ll likely be seeing her more often in a social capacity.”
I grit my teeth. “Count on it. And one more thing. What’s the deal with her mother?” I remember back to the short conversation we had about her mother telling her what to do, who to date, and that she was a lousy daughter. A loving mother wouldn’t do that. She might attempt to set you up on dates with her friends’ kids or prod you about your love life and having babies, but not once has my mother ever talked down to me like I was an awful child or horrible human being. “I get the feeling that some of this shit burning up inside of her has to do with her relationship with her parents. Especially her mother.”
“Nick…” she warns. “I can’t discuss this with you.”
Hot, blazing anger bubbles up and prickles along the surface of my skin. “Fine.” I grate through my teeth. “Just tell me, is it bad?”
“Nick.” The sadness in the way she says my name says it all.
“It’s bad. Is she more than verbally violent toward Honor?”
“You know I can’t…” Her voice cracks, and I can hear how torn she is.
I close my eyes, press my hand to the wall, and drop my head down in front of me. “I need to know if I should be calling her family, letting them in on what’s going on.”
“Absolutely not.” Monet’s reply is firm and resolute. Heat swarms over my body as the knowledge that my girl has been hurt beyond a mere tongue-lashing burrows in. The sensation settles inside my gut and twists and turns like a tilt-a-whirl.
“Moe, did her mother lay a hand on her?”
“Please stop.” Monet is crying over the line, likely warring with her ethics and her desire to protect her patient and help her friend.
“Fuck.” The woman puts her hands on her. “Her father?” I growl, barely able to function as this news sinks in.
“Nick, I don’t know,” she whispers, all hope gone from her voice. Which means she really doesn’t know. They probably haven’t talked about him yet, or maybe he’s a good guy. Only time will tell.
“I’ll see you soon.”
Monet clears her throat. “Yeah, okay.”
I punch the off button and lean my forehead on the cool plaster. Her mother is verbally and physically abusive. Her father is an unknown.
“Nick?” Honor calls out from the room behind me.
I take the few steps needed to enter. “Hey, Dove, I’m here.”
Her lips tremble. “I thought you’d left me.”
“No, babe. Not going to leave you. Just making a phone call and didn’t want to disrupt your sleep.”
She nods and twiddles her fingers. “Has Sean been in, mentioned when I could go back to the hotel?”
Hotel, not home.
“Shit. You haven’t found a place yet, have you?”
She shakes her head. “It’s okay. All the things I want and need are at the hotel. One of mine.”
“Where were you living before, and what do you mean one of yours?”
Honor shrugs in that nonchalant way that is an attempt to change the subject. Not gonna happen. I’m not letting her off the hook on anything anymore.
I wait patiently until the silence becomes uncomfortable.
“I was living with my parents before…uh…well, just before.” She picks up a lock of her wavy blond hair and runs her fingers over the strands in a repetitive nervous gesture. “You know Zero Tower?”
“That swank hotel downtown? Shit, that costs like eight or nine hundred a night?”
Her forehead crinkles. “Is it that much? I’ll have to talk to my people. That seems exorbitant.”
This time I’m the one crinkling my forehead in confusion. “Your people?”
“I own that hotel and a few others. I’m currently living in one of the four penthouses.”
I tip my head back and look up at the ceiling. “You’re living in a hotel.”
“It’s what I have.” Her voice cracks, and she looks away.
That’s not where you go to heal. She needs a home. A place where someone can dote on her, bring her soup and lasagna. “You’re not going back there.”
She bites her lip and looks down at her lap. “I don’t have anywhere
