Free Falter by Haven Cage Page B

what he saw. I guess it depends on what you took from it. Two lines crossing each other? Or, the sign of the Devil? It was a pretty far-fetched comparison, but the weird supernatural-like shit happening to me lately made me ponder on the symbol far longer than I was comfortable with.
    “Doctor, you don’t know how it got there, but I do. These are the kinds of things I was telling you about.”  
    I was pissed. And not knowing exactly what I was mad about made me even more pissed. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t witnessed the crazy things going on in my head. I needed him to assure me that there was a reasonable explanation for my experiences even though I didn’t feel there was.
    “I’m sure it will be fine. Under high amounts of stress, we tend to do harm to ourselves without realizing it. I’ll write you something to help you relax. If you have any more problems, let me know.” He waited for me to approve the plan.
    Did he just imply that I did this to myself?  
    I nodded and kept my anger silent. I wanted to get out of this place.
    He held out his hand, palm up and open. “It was nice to meet you. The nurses will be here with your paperwork soon.”
    I half-heartedly shook his hand, “Thanks.” For nothing.

    Gavyn saw me sulking through the automated double doors and stood to greet me. The others did the same as I made my way through the lobby.  
    “Oh my gosh. Hon, are you alright?” Layla hurried toward me in a fuss.  
    She held me at arm’s length and looked over me. Her eyes were worried as she smoothed back the tousled hair from my face. When she caught a glimpse of the singed skin on my forehead, her expression hardened and her eyes narrowed. Did Layla perceive the mark in the same manner as the doctor?  
    Something about her demeanor shifted during that brief moment, and then her sweet southern smile reappeared.
    “I’m fine, just scratched myself. The brain is okay though.” I tapped my temple with my index finger and forced a smile to ease their minds. Hopefully, they couldn’t tell the difference between a scratch and a burn.
    George exhaled a deep breath of relief. “What did he say it was?”
    “Stress, like you said.” An I-told-you-so grin replaced his fear for my insanity.
    Gavyn moved to stand beside me, quiet and supportive. His closeness quickly unraveled my nervous knots. I gazed up at his wary face and smiled. He hesitated then returned the smile, but the lack of genuine happiness and the crease in his brow did nothing to convince me that all was well.  
    He slid his warm fingers between mine. “We’re ready to go then?”  
    George caught our gesture and pretended not to notice as he passed Gavyn and me, heading for the door. Layla, however, fisted the hem of her jacket and rushed after George as if she was bothered by Gavyn’s action.
    “Definitely.” My feet couldn’t get me out of there fast enough.
    Gavyn grazed my face with his other hand and pulled the hair off my forehead. “How did that really happen?” he whispered, observing the mark intently.  
    I patted his hand away. “Long story. It’s not important.” It wasn’t long, just a bit wacko. And at this point, I didn’t care to burden this man with any more of my issues. We left it at that, and I pulled him into motion, following the others through the E.R. exit doors.

CHAPTER SIX
    Beware of the Changing Tides

    By the time we returned to the café, it was dark and almost closing time. Only a few diners lingered quietly at their tables. One cook remained in the kitchen, and the older woman with grey hair waited on the last of the customers. Some of the chairs were already stacked on the tables and the condiments were refilled.  
    Slow, heavy music filled the café. Blues. An appropriate ambiance for how I felt. I was more discouraged now than before our trip to the hospital. I couldn’t accept stress as a real reason for all that happened. It irritated me that I had to dump so much on the others