Fight, Flight, or Freeze: The Healer's Story
Chapter 27: Not The Quack

Chapter 27: Not The Quack

I stumbled out of the elevator and into a beautiful lobby, complete with a security guard.

Fuck my life.

I knew I had blood running down my right arm; I could feel it drying and turning sticky with each passing moment.

"Excuse me, Miss?" asked the guard, coming around the desk and heading straight for me.

I couldn’t wait around. He would call the police, and I was going away for murder. And if I did, there went my career. No one would hire a doctor who was convicted of murder. There was no way.

No, I had to run.

Before he could get any closer, I bolted for the doors, happy to see that they opened automatically for me. I was small enough that I didn’t even have to wait for them.

Squeezing through the narrow crack, I left the apartment and sprinted down the street. I didn’t know where I was going, and frankly, I didn’t care. I just needed to get away from that place and the man that I killed.

I didn’t have my backpack with me or even my phone, so I couldn’t call anyone, and I had no idea what anyone’s numbers were to call in the first place.

As soon as I got home, I was going to start memorizing numbers. I couldn’t rely on my phone to be there when I needed it.

I could go to the police station and get them to call Mom and Dad, but then they would ask about the blood, so that option was out, too.

I gripped one of the buildings beside me as another wave of nausea and dizziness enveloped me. I was running out of time, and I needed to get to someplace safe.

I had only one option left, and it was very much a hail mary at this point in time.

I stumbled to the curb and lifted my hand, flagging down a taxi.

When one stopped in front of me, I quickly climbed into the back seat and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you okay?" asked the driver. There was a look of concern on his face, and he studied me. I took in a deep breath of air and slowly let it out. Balsam. He smelled like Christmas trees. He couldn’t be a bad guy if he smelled like Christmas, right?

"I’m fine. Can you take me to the Song residence, please?" I knew that if I were taken, Mom and Dad wouldn’t be sitting around the apartment doing nothing. No, they would have gone to Grandma and Grandpa’s.

"Song residence? As in THE Song residence in Chapel Hill?" The name sounded familiar, but as far as I knew, there was only one Song residence in all of City D.

"Please. They will pay you when you drop me off," I assured him. I closed my eyes as I felt the cab pulling away from the curb and joining the afternoon traffic. Just a quick nap, and everything would be fine.

Just five minutes of sleep.

Technically, I knew that that was the worst thing I could do, but I needed the world to stop moving for a short period of time. And I was so very tired.

----

"Come on, Kitten, show me those beautiful eyes of yours," came a soft, soothing voice. I could feel that I was being carried in a set of strong arms, the scent of him making me want to sink deeper into the safety he promised.

"Bai Long Qiang?" I moaned, not opening my eyes. It felt like they were glued shut.

"It’s me, Kitten. You’re home now. Don’t worry about anything. Okay?" I could feel us moving, and the outside air changed to a warmer air inside. I took in a deep breath. Coffee and cinnamon. I had made it to Grandma and Grandpa’s. I was safe.

"I killed someone," I said in a soft voice. I needed him to know that I was no longer untainted. I had taken a life.

The arms around me gripped me tighter, and I could feel the chest under my cheek vibrating.

"Are you growling?" I asked, still tired.

"I can promise you that you did nothing wrong," replied Bai Long Qiang, not answering my question. "You were protecting yourself."

"How do you know that?" I pressed, burrowing my face deeper into his chest to get his smell.

"Because you are everything good in the world. If you killed someone, it would be because you were protecting yourself or someone else. There are a lot of bad people in the world. I would much rather you come home to me than be worried about killing someone."

I thought about what he had said. And to a certain extent, he was right. But I still couldn’t get over it that easily.

"You shouldn’t be carrying me. Your ribs are injured, and this has got to be hurting," I muttered as I felt us both sinking into some kind of seat.

"Having you in my arms is actually making them feel a lot better," he assured me, adjusting me in his embrace. "Can you tell us what happened?"

"I was waiting in the visitor parking lot when someone bashed me over the head. I am experiencing the symptoms of a Grade 2 concussion and probably should go to the hospital to be checked out. When I came too, I was tied to a chair inside a nice living room."

"Do you know who brought you there?" came an older voice. Grandpa.

"Ye Mei Hui," I answered. My ears were starting to ring again, and my head was pounding. I wasn’t going to be able to maintain consciousness for much longer.

"Need to go to the hospital," I said, not able to open my eyes.

"We called our family doctor. He is going to be here in a minute," came another voice... one that I only somewhat recognized. Bai Long Qiang’s dad.

"It’s not the quack, right," I asked, turning my face to the boy holding me. I really didn’t trust that doctor after he had applied compression to cracked ribs.

"It’s okay, Kitten," muttered Bai Long Qiang as he gently kissed my forehead. "Ribs aside, he does know what he is doing."

My brain went through all of the concussion protocols that my family needed to know, but I was too out of it to be able to speak properly.

Hopefully, this quack was good enough to know what needed to be done.