Fight or Flight by Natalie J. Damschroder Read Free Book Online Page A

the building.
    “There you are!” She ran toward them. “The phone rang, and it was a man asking for you. When I said you’d left, he asked where you were going. I didn’t want to tell him, but he started yelling at me.”
    Kelsey gasped. “You told him?”
    “No! I told him to screw himself, hung up, and ran to catch up with you. I grabbed this.” She picked up her field hockey stick from where it lay on the trunk of the car. “Don’t even think I’m not going with you.”
    ***
    When Regan woke up, she knew instantly where she was and remembered everything that had happened until she blacked out. She didn’t know or care how she’d gotten into the hospital or how long she’d been unconscious. She had to get out of there, get to Kelsey.
    She was alone in the hospital room but, as she discovered when she started to climb out of bed, she wore a stupid open-backed gown. With her left arm in a sling, she couldn’t tie it. It didn’t matter. She had to have been naked when they brought her in, anyway.
    An IV stuck out of the back of her right hand. She wanted to rip it out but she had to be smart. Her entire body ached, her shoulder and left cheek most of all—she also had trouble seeing out of her left eye, she realized—and she didn’t need any more damage. She closed the clamp on the IV tube and carefully peeled off the tape over the catheter, then slid it out. Blood trickled across her hand, faster than she’d expected. She yanked three tissues from the box on the nightstand and pressed them to the back of her hand, ignoring the ache in her left shoulder.
    They must have given her painkillers. The throbbing in her shoulder was dull, and the room swam every time she turned her head. She could feel the tug of bandages taped to her hip, left and right arms, and right leg, but the cuts didn’t hurt. She swayed when she stood, but couldn’t rest. She had to make sure Kelsey was safe.
    She was almost to the door when it opened.
    “Oh, no, missy, you get right back into bed. What did you do? My goodness!” The nurse took Regan’s elbow and marched her back to the bed, ignoring her protests. “I don’t care if the Vatican needs you, you’re not going anywhere. Now settle down. The police need to speak with you, and that nice neighbor who came in with you is frantic with worry. I made him go outside because he wouldn’t stop pacing in here.” She clucked at the IV catheter on the floor and bent to pick it up. Regan stood again and tried to slip past her, but the nurse was quick.
    “You think I’m a newbie? I’ve had bigger patients than you try to get by me and fail, missy.”
    “Stop calling me missy!” Her voice was hoarse and her neck hurt when she talked, but she ignored it. She could breathe, and that was enough. “I need to get out of here. My daughter is in danger!”
    “Tell it to the cop. You sit, I’ll get him.” She pointed the Mom Finger at Regan, who had an unexpected surge of amusement. She hadn’t been on this end of the Finger in twenty-five years.
    “Okay, I’ll sit. But get him now .”
    The nurse was true to her word. A minute later the cop—John Boyse, according to his name tag—was ponderously asking her questions about her story.
    “Look, I’ll tell you everything, but first I want to know my daughter is safe! I called her. I told her to go to the police. Please , call campus security, call the town police, do something to assure me she’s okay. If you can’t, I’m out of here.”
    “Hey, what’s this shouting?” Tyler leaned around the door, surveyed the room, then came straight over to Regan and took her right hand. “What are you riling her up for? You saw her condition when she came in here! I swear—”
    Officer Boyse sighed. “Mr. Sloane, I assure you, it was not my intent to rile Ms. Miller. I just need to get the facts.”
    “I told you how to get the facts,” Regan said.
    The officer eyed her implacably, then turned. “I’ll be right