SCARRED (7 page)

      “Yes. He worked for me.”

      It was more than Serene could comprehend. “Wait! Ted is a petty drug dealer, you said you were an investor…” she paused and became very still remembering his words, “an investor of sorts.”

      Lawson tilted his head slightly to the side and lifted his chin upward. He had never felt so suddenly tired. “Yes, that’s what I am.”

      “So, you once defended criminals in court, now you simply are one.” She didn’t wait for an answer, turning away and storming up the hallway. She slammed her bedroom door so hard that one of her framed photos crashed to the floor. She felt a moment of guilt at her words. After all, she was just a prostitute, right? She sat on the edge of her bed and clasped her shaking hands together.

      The thing of it was she had put Lawson on a pedestal. He was her knight in shining armor; he had rescued her from prostitution. Now she knew better. She was just a very well cared for prostitute, and a whore is what she would always be.

      Lawson stared after Serene and winced when he heard the muted sound of breaking glass.
What have I done?
He thought.
Most of the truth is out, and she’s never going to forgive me. I will never forgive myself.

      Neither one knew it, but they both spent the next hour not moving, crying for each other.

      Lawson didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. He rose from the table as the first pink hues of the sunrise touched the room. He brewed coffee and walked down the hall to Serene’s bedroom door. He didn’t hear any sound other than an occasional cough coming from inside the room. He turned the knob and was surprised to find that the door opened easily. He could just make out her small frame under the blankets and he went to the window to open the blinds partially.

      He could see her pale face sticking out from the blankets, but he frowned at the sheen of sweat across her forehead. The room wasn’t hot. He gently reached out a hand and touched her cheek. It was burning hot. Lawson pulled the blanket back a few inches and touched the side of her neck with two of his fingers. Her pulse was rapid and he could hear her breathing held a slight wheeze.

      With a frown he tried to shake her awake. She didn’t respond, and Lawson shook her harder. Serene’s eyes fluttered open. For a moment she didn’t seem to recognize him.

      “Lawson,” she rasped “I think the heat’s broken.”

      Lawson ran a hand over her forehead before quickly leaving the room. His open robe fluttered around his calf muscles as he pushed into the kitchen and threw open a draw that held various things in it, like screwdrivers, tape, and he hoped a thermometer. He saw the yellow and white end sticking out from under a pack of batteries. Without shutting the drawer, he hurried from the room and back to Serene. She had pulled the blanket back around her face and appeared to be sleeping again.

      Lawson gently sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the blanket away from her face again. She was shivering as he tried to sit her up.

      “Serene? Baby, come on, I need to take your temperature.”

      Her teeth chattered and she tried to fight against him pulling at her shirt. “No! I’m mad at you!”

      “I know you are. Here, I only need to pull one arm out.”

      Once it was accomplished, Lawson clicked on the digital thermometer and placed it under her arm. It seemed to take an impossible amount of time. Lawson held her against him and could feel her body shake. When the beeper finally sounded he pulled it out and read the numbers out loud.

      “104.1. Oh man, ok.” Lawson laid her back on the bed and ran to the bathroom. He knew he should force her into a tub of lukewarm or cool water, but which was it? If he took her to the hospital, he would need to go without his mask. He ran cool water over a washcloth and took it back to Serene, laying it gently on her neck. She whimpered in protest, trying to pull it off her skin. Lawson left the room again and called the only person he knew he could.

      “Mike? Yeah, it’s Lawson. I have a problem.”

* * * *

      Mike Reid was Lawson’s personal attorney. He was a successful criminal attorney, and at forty five years of age, he was so successful that he only had a handful of regular clients. He didn’t need any new ones. He also had a doctor on his payroll for the sticky situations some of his clients found themselves in. Mike stood in a corner of the room that Serene occupied and watched what was happening with one arm around his middle and the other bent at the elbow with his chin in his hand.

      “How long has she been ill?”

      Lawson shrugged and looked at the doctor with sad eyes. “I don’t know. She seemed ok, just a little tired.”

      “Did she complain of body aches or anything out of the ordinary?”

      “No. Small cough, but I didn’t think anything of it.”

      The doctor was short and much older than Lawson had expected. He nodded his head and dug around in his bag. “Why don’t you two wait in the kitchen?”

      Lawson sighed and glanced at Serene’s sleeping form before following Mike out of the room. His friend always walked with a sure swagger with one hand in his pocket. He was doing that now. Lawson had to smirk. Mike was a millionaire and even in the early morning hours, during an emergency, he shows up in an Armani suit smelling like expensive cologne; his broad shoulders held straight. When they entered the kitchen, Lawson pulled two mugs from a cabinet and poured black coffee into one, handing it to Mike. He sipped and made an appreciative face. He leaned against the island and sipped his coffee while he waited for Lawson to fix his. When they were finally facing each other he spoke to Lawson with a fake smile on his face.

      “What are you doing here, Lawson?”

      “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

      Mike barked a laugh and set the mug on the island so he could run a hand over his excessively greased head. Lawson knew he used that much grease and gel so he could plaster his thinning black hair over his balding crown. “I’m sure you do!” He eyed him shrewdly and shook his head. “Where did she come from?”

      “She’s in my employment for the next six months.” Lawson sipped his coffee calmly and held his friend’s stare.

      “How long has she been here?”

      “Six months.”

      “Uh-huh. I don’t guess she’s a maid like I told the good doctor in there.”

      “She keeps the house very clean.”

      “Right.” Mike drained the rest of his coffee and took a step towards Lawson. He smacked him on the arm and walked towards the kitchen door. He turned briefly with his hand back in his pocket. “I hope you know what you’re doing. What’s wrong with a good old-fashioned prostitute? You purchase her for an hour or two, and then she’s gone.”

      “I wanted more.”

      “Ha! Don’t we all? I’ll see you, buddy, call me if you need anything else.”

      Lawson watched Mike push through the kitchen door, and soon after heard the front door open and shut.

      Close to twenty minutes later the doctor stuck his head in the kitchen door. He held a brown prescription bottle out with a thin hand that shook slightly and had numerous liver spots. “I already gave her one. It was difficult, but she swallowed it. I am pretty sure it is just a rapid onset of some kind of virus, or it could be the flu. The fever spiking so high and so suddenly is a concern, but if you give her Tylenol every four hours for the next day, you should be able to control it.”

      “What about these?” Lawson asked and shook the brown bottle.

      “It’s just Amoxicillin; twice a day for ten days.”

      Lawson nodded. The doctor looked at him curiously which was soon replaced with a look of sympathy. “How are you, Lawson?”

      Lawson didn’t want to look into the watery blue eyes of the aging physician. He didn’t want to remember. Well practiced, he put on his best smile and squeezed the doctor’s hand.

      “I’m just fine. How much do I owe you?”

      The doctor held up a hand and waved the question away. “Slick Rick, um excuse me, Mike already took care of it. I’m sure you’ll get a bill.”

      Lawson had to chuckle as he followed him to the front door. The doctor turned before he exited, placing a worn fedora firmly on his head. “Clear liquids, chicken noodle soup, and toast are all I want the young lady having for the next twenty four hours. I’ll come back in a day or two to check her lungs.”

      Lawson nodded and shut the door against the cold air of the morning. He glanced up the hallway and tried to decide what to do. He could go and sit with her; wait for her to wake up. Perhaps it would be better if he just went to his room for a couple of hours. He knew she was still very angry. Even in her delirium of a high fever she had told him so. Lawson walked on the balls of his feet just to ensure he was completely quiet, and peeked into her room briefly.

      She was lying on her back with a fresh sheen of sweat on her face, but she did look better. It appeared the doctor had scrubbed her face a bit. Maybe it had helped. Sometimes older doctors had old remedies that were forgotten in our high tech plastic world. It was a pity as far as Lawson was concerned. He felt that the world lived too fast; it was all so shallow without meaning.

      The girl on the bed gave his life meaning. Suddenly bone weary, he turned away and went into his bedroom, softly locking the door behind him.

* * * *

      It took two full days to get Serene to put more than water and ginger ale in her body. She begrudgingly took the antibiotics every time Lawson brought them to her, but refused to have any kind of real conversation. She would take her pills, give him a curt ‘thank you’, and then turn her head to the window or back to one of her books or crosswords.

      Lawson didn’t push her and kept her stocked up on tissues and books. He even brought a small television in for her with a DVD player. He had gone to a Red Box and rented her several movies. She seemed to soften a bit at that, but simply gave him the same curt and crisp response.

      On the third day, Lawson was placing clean towels in the bathroom, when Serene came and stood in the doorway. She didn’t glare or try to make him leave. Her expression was impassive. Lawson straightened his back slowly and tried to smile at her.

      “You look so much better. Are you hungry?”

      Serene nodded. “Can I take a shower first?”

      “Oh sure!” Lawson said and tried to move past her quickly. To his surprise, Serene grabbed his hand as he slid past her. She pulled tentatively until he stood directly in front of her.

      “Thank you for taking care of me.”

      Lawson touched her cheek with the back of several fingers. “I wish I could always care for you.”

      “Why can’t you?”

      Lawson’s mouth twisted and his head moved slowly back and forth. “It would be so unfair to you.” His voice was pained, and it cut into Serene like a knife.

      “I love you.” She let go of his hand and closed the bathroom door with her eyes on the ground.

      Lawson wanted to cheer; run up and down the hallway shouting for joy, but all he could do was pull in a shuddering breath, while thinking how ironic and unfair the world really is.

      “Don’t do much tomorrow, Serene.”

      “Why not? I feel fine.”

      Lawson gave her a patient look. “The doctor said you need to take it slow.”

      “I like that doctor. What’s his name?”

      “He’s just called ‘the doctor’.”

      Serene’s lips puckered in a frown. “Why?”