Page 56 of The Harbinger
Ivan led me down the hall toward the room where the nurse who led her back stood at the door waiting for me.
“Alexander Ruslanovich, I need you to take all of your belongings off that are metal before I can allow you entry.”
We stepped through the door leading to the room with monitors and a large rectangular window. My heart lurched in my chest, a fist twisting it.
Tears running down her terrified face glinted in the overhead lights, and her knees pulled to her chest as she huddled in the corner of the room.
I emptied my pockets, the sands of time ticking down as Sergei and another nurse inched toward her. My cufflinks came next as I took a mental tally of everything on my person, my hands patting my pockets to be certain, then flung open the door.
She lifted her head as the door banged closed. Her eyes lit up when I stepped her way.
Why did she look at me for safety?
“Mia.”
She swallowed, her gray eyes a storm filled with turbulent anguish I wanted to bathe in. If only I could dip my fingers into her chest brimming with inky black emotions and taste the fear ruling there.
“Mia. What happened?”
Sergei stepped aside as I gained ground.
“She was lying on the platform and talking to me, and then the next—”
I held my hand up. She’d tell me with her words, and it would pull her from this state. Her hand wrapped around her knees shook while her other hand remained tucked to her side, between her and the wall.
“She has my scissors,” Sergei murmured.
Now that he’d mentioned the weapon, the pointed end of them poking out from between her belly and knees became more obvious, her hand wrapped around the handle.
“Mia, listen to me. Put down the scissors.”
“He… he tried to tie me down.”
“Give them to me.”
Her chin trembled. Perspiration glistened on her forehead. She took controlled deep breaths, her gaze avoiding mine. Her efforts were futile to suppress her fear. Fear wasn’t a singular beast that grabbed you by the throat but was a legion of beasts with thousands of tentacles. They wrapped around your mind, entered your heart, and twisted around your being until nothing was recognizable. This legion had smothered her, and it currently ate her alive.
She launched to her feet and lunged.
I braced for the sharp slice to pierce my gut, the handle to bottom out against my skin like a sucker punch.
The air pulled from my lungs as her body, clad in a hospital gown, collided with mine, her arms wrapped around my waist.
Her body shivered with micro-vibrations as she sobbed against my chest, her cheek warming me. A clatter of something hitting the floor behind me broke up her cries, my arms held out to the side. Her hands clenched the back of my suit jacket as she sniffled, then she released me.
She straightened, the tears on her cheeks reflecting the light from the fluorescent overhead. Reaching up, she brushed them away, her eyes still glistening with an ocean of emotions. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself, then looked up.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just that…” She sniffled and wiped her cheeks before continuing. “He tried to… It’s irrational… I know he won’t hurt me.”
Her jumbled, incomplete sentences set my jaw on edge, but the shake in her voice allowed a moment of softening.
I dropped my hand to her back and rubbed down her spine. Gooseflesh pebbled her arms, her brows wrinkling her forehead.
Sergei shuffled behind us, pulling me from whatever diluted pool of moral sense came over me. I grabbed her shoulders and moved her a step away from me, her apple blossom scent remaining in the small space between, then ushered her back to the MRI machine, making her face her fears about whether she was ready or not.
“Before we begin,” Sergei said in Russian. “You should know her results are back.”
“And?”