Read Online Saving Avery by Angela Snyder - Free Book Online Page B

enough to see a million emotions flash behind those piercing eyes. She steps around me to leave. She's always running away, but I'm not going to let her today. I'm going to get to the bottom of this right here, right now. "Wait a minute," I say as my hand darts out and grasps her wrist in a firm, but gentle grip.
    Crying out in pain, she jerks away from me quickly. In the process of pulling away, the sleeve of her cardigan slides up her arm, revealing purplish-blue marks on her exposed skin. Even though I don't want to frighten or upset her, I reach out and gently pull the sleeve up a little more. I quickly inspect her skin before she pulls away. She has bruises the whole length of her forearm. Some are fresh, and some are old based on their color. My brows furrow as I meet her gaze. "Who did this to you?"
    Her eyes are wide as she looks up at me, and I realize I just saw something I wasn't ever supposed to see. "I…I fell," she says, her voice catching.
    She's lying right to my face. Those bruise patterns are not from a fall. And I bet if I placed my fingers over the elongated bruises around her wrist, they would almost match. What is she trying to cover up? Who is she trying to protect?
    I watch her closely as she pulls the sleeve of the cardigan down to her wrist, concealing her skin once again. She tugs at the sleeves in an obsessive manner. Come to think of it, she has worn a cardigan every single time I've seen her since I started working here. Another piece of the puzzle clicks into place in my mind. This isn't a one-time thing. She's been hiding these bruises for a while now. "You said you fell. Oh yeah? Where? How did you fall?"
    Avery hesitates for only a split second before saying, "I fell down the basement steps the other day. I was bringing down a basket full of laundry and slipped on the next to the last step from the bottom."
    She's obviously used to practicing her lies to tell people. She's so good at it that I almost believe her. Almost . "Some of those looked at least a few days old. Did you fall more than once?" My tone is demanding and impetuous, and I instantly regret it when I see the tears welling up in her eyes.
    I watch as her tough exterior slowly begins to crack. She releases a shaky breath before saying, "Please. Please don't tell anyone."
    "And what exactly am I not telling anyone?" I want to hear her say it. I want to hear the words.
    The look in her eyes is of pure, undiluted fear, but what or, more importantly, who is she afraid of? "Please," she pleads. Her eyes dart to the watch on her wrist. "Oh no!" she gasps. "I'm going to be late again."
    "Late for what?"
    "I have to go," she says in a panic.
    I want to reach out for her again, but I'm afraid to hurt her. I keep my hands balled in fists at my sides to resist the temptation as I watch her run from the room. We barely got the chance to talk, and then I find out in those few moments that she's being abused. But by whom? I'm determined to find out.
    Leaving the break room, I manage to catch a fleeting glimpse of Avery rushing out the exit. Rosie is at the nurses' station when I walk up to her. "I need to speak with you." My voice sounds a lot sterner than I intended, but I'm upset, and my emotions are at war with one another in my mind. I'm angry, confused and fearful for Avery's safety. I just want to know what the hell is going on with her. If she needs help, I need to know that, so I can do everything in my power to get her the help she needs.
    Rosie follows me into an empty room. "Did I do something wrong, Dr. Harrison?" she asks.
    "What?" I ask, distracted. "Oh, no, you didn't do anything wrong." I hesitate. How can I put this out there without telling her what I saw? Obviously Avery covers her bruises for a reason. She doesn't want anyone to know, and I don't intend on spilling her secret to anyone until I know the truth behind it. "This is about Avery."
    "What about her?"
    "What's wrong with her?" I blurt out. Shit. That sounded so