Read Online Lucky Thirteen by Janet Taylor-Perry - Free Book Online
Authors: Janet Taylor-Perry
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to stop the voices.”
“Anything?”
“Yes.”
“Would you take your pills even though Latrice says not to?”
“I have to get some more.”
“Get some and come back and talk to me. I can’t promise the voices will leave, but I will try to help you. I swear it.”
A strained silence lingered several moments. “Why would you want to help me if you think I want to hurt you?” he asked barely above a whisper.
“You don’t wa nt to hurt me. Latrice does. She wants to hurt you, too. She is hurting you right now by not giving you your medication. You need it.”
“I can’t go back to the health department to get the pills.”
Larkin could tell she was getting through to the man. “Why?”
“Latrice is there.”
“Is Latrice’s voice there?”
“No, she’s there.”
“Is Latrice here?”
“No !” The man’s agitation elevated. “Latrice is not a voice, Larkin. She’s real. She’ll be so mad I talked to you.”
“Don’t tell her . Do you know where the free clinic run by Charity Chapel is located?”
“Yes.”
“They’ll take care of you. Tell them Larkin sent you.”
The man began to pace . “I have to get out of here. I have to stop the voices.” He headed for the door.
“Please!” Larkin shouted.
“Please what ? Listen to your voice? Let you help?” The peculiar man came into the small patch of light very close to her, and she looked into the bluest eyes she had ever seen—the same eyes she had seen in her dream, yet not the same. These eyes were lost, begging to be found. Though they had deep dark circles, this man’s eyes were breathtaking.
Without thinking, she reached out and touched his cheek . She whispered, “No, follow Dawg. I’m sure he’ll lead you to safety. If you don’t think you can trust me, trust him. Maybe he’s your guardian angel.”
Blue eyes backed away and left Larkin alone.
She put her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes . She prayed. Oh, God, is he crazy? Please, God, send an angel to guide him. He’s in so much pain, so much trouble. Please, protect him. Show me how to help him.
Something about the man made her feel deep compassion for him. Larkin could not help but think something about this man just did not add up. He looks and smells like a street urchin, but the clothes he has on, although dirty, are top-line . She had recognized the Diadora logo on the sweatshirt. Only serious athletes wear that. The jeans are American Eagle, top-line mall apparel. His speech patterns are educated and cultured; his vocabulary, amazing. And he also looks vaguely familiar. Where have I seen him?
She rubbed her own temple. She lay back and gave into sleep once more. Again she dreamed of blue eyes, but this time Cyclops was with the blue eyes. The eyes seemed more focused, more determined.
7
Confused Captor
T houg h almost closing time, the free clinic remained packed with people. A nurse walked into the center of the waiting room. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have to close for today. I have the sign-in sheet. Dr. Grant will be here tomorrow at eight, and we’ll start where we left off.”
The indigent sick moaned, but started shuffling out the door . Against the tide, a hooded figure approached the nurse. He touched her arm with some force and spoke hoarsely, “Please, I can’t wait until tomorrow. I need to see a doctor today.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the nurse replied calmly . “Come back tomorrow.”
The man covered his ears and looked around furtively before he shouted, “Shut up!”
The nurse jumped at the outburst. Blue eyes pleaded at the woman again and he whispered, “Please? Larkin. Larkin said you would help. Larkin sent me.”
The nurse asked quickly, “When did you see Larkin?”
The man shook his head. “Recently. Please, make the voices stop. Larkin said to tell you she sent me. Her voice is very soothing. I don’t want it to stop—just the others.” The man fumbled in his jacket pocket and handed the nurse two
“Anything?”
“Yes.”
“Would you take your pills even though Latrice says not to?”
“I have to get some more.”
“Get some and come back and talk to me. I can’t promise the voices will leave, but I will try to help you. I swear it.”
A strained silence lingered several moments. “Why would you want to help me if you think I want to hurt you?” he asked barely above a whisper.
“You don’t wa nt to hurt me. Latrice does. She wants to hurt you, too. She is hurting you right now by not giving you your medication. You need it.”
“I can’t go back to the health department to get the pills.”
Larkin could tell she was getting through to the man. “Why?”
“Latrice is there.”
“Is Latrice’s voice there?”
“No, she’s there.”
“Is Latrice here?”
“No !” The man’s agitation elevated. “Latrice is not a voice, Larkin. She’s real. She’ll be so mad I talked to you.”
“Don’t tell her . Do you know where the free clinic run by Charity Chapel is located?”
“Yes.”
“They’ll take care of you. Tell them Larkin sent you.”
The man began to pace . “I have to get out of here. I have to stop the voices.” He headed for the door.
“Please!” Larkin shouted.
“Please what ? Listen to your voice? Let you help?” The peculiar man came into the small patch of light very close to her, and she looked into the bluest eyes she had ever seen—the same eyes she had seen in her dream, yet not the same. These eyes were lost, begging to be found. Though they had deep dark circles, this man’s eyes were breathtaking.
Without thinking, she reached out and touched his cheek . She whispered, “No, follow Dawg. I’m sure he’ll lead you to safety. If you don’t think you can trust me, trust him. Maybe he’s your guardian angel.”
Blue eyes backed away and left Larkin alone.
She put her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes . She prayed. Oh, God, is he crazy? Please, God, send an angel to guide him. He’s in so much pain, so much trouble. Please, protect him. Show me how to help him.
Something about the man made her feel deep compassion for him. Larkin could not help but think something about this man just did not add up. He looks and smells like a street urchin, but the clothes he has on, although dirty, are top-line . She had recognized the Diadora logo on the sweatshirt. Only serious athletes wear that. The jeans are American Eagle, top-line mall apparel. His speech patterns are educated and cultured; his vocabulary, amazing. And he also looks vaguely familiar. Where have I seen him?
She rubbed her own temple. She lay back and gave into sleep once more. Again she dreamed of blue eyes, but this time Cyclops was with the blue eyes. The eyes seemed more focused, more determined.
7
Confused Captor
T houg h almost closing time, the free clinic remained packed with people. A nurse walked into the center of the waiting room. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have to close for today. I have the sign-in sheet. Dr. Grant will be here tomorrow at eight, and we’ll start where we left off.”
The indigent sick moaned, but started shuffling out the door . Against the tide, a hooded figure approached the nurse. He touched her arm with some force and spoke hoarsely, “Please, I can’t wait until tomorrow. I need to see a doctor today.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the nurse replied calmly . “Come back tomorrow.”
The man covered his ears and looked around furtively before he shouted, “Shut up!”
The nurse jumped at the outburst. Blue eyes pleaded at the woman again and he whispered, “Please? Larkin. Larkin said you would help. Larkin sent me.”
The nurse asked quickly, “When did you see Larkin?”
The man shook his head. “Recently. Please, make the voices stop. Larkin said to tell you she sent me. Her voice is very soothing. I don’t want it to stop—just the others.” The man fumbled in his jacket pocket and handed the nurse two
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