Melt (Steel Brothers Saga 4) - Page 62
His blue eyes glazed over with rage and fire. “I’m not sure I made myself clear. I’m not leaving without that file.”
“And I told you”—I swallowed—“it’s not here.”
He grabbed my arm, and I instinctively jerked backward, hitting the wall.
“Don’t you dare touch me,” I said.
“Then give me the file.”
“I do not have it here.”
“Listen, bitch.” He grabbed me by the throat. “You’re going t—”
“Melanie?” A soft rap on the door.
Oliver! Thank God.
Dr. Cates removed his hand from my neck, and I gasped in some air. The gasp was more from fear. He hadn’t obstructed my breathing, but damn it, I was scared to death.
“Oliver, am I glad to see you.” I smoothed out my blouse.
“This isn’t over, Dr. Carmichael,” Dr. Cates said. “I will get the information one way or another.”
Without acknowledging Oliver, Dr. Cates stomped out of my office. I could still hear his footsteps after he left the reception area and traveled down the hall to the elevator.
“Are you all right?” Oliver asked. “What was that about?”
I lost my footing, and he rushed toward me, catching me. He helped me to my couch and sat down next to me.
“Melanie?”
And the tears came. Whether they were tears for Gina or tears for the fear that had just coursed through me, I didn’t know.
Oliver put his arm around me. “God, what happened? Who was that guy?”
I sniffled into his shirt and then looked up at him, grabbing a tissue from the box on the coffee table. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose quickly.
“He was the father of a former patient of mine.”
“Should we call the cops? For a second I thought he was choking you.”
Normally I would have said yes, but I shook my head. “I’m all right. The man has been through enough.”
“Are you kidding me? He just tried to strangle you.”
“He wouldn’t have done me any harm.” And in my heart, I did believe that. “He’s distraught. His daughter was a patient of mine, and she ended up killing herself.” I bit my lip to force back tears. “I’ve been over her file time after time after time, Oliver, and I cannot find anything that indicated she was suicidal. What did I miss?”
“He has no right to blame you.”
“But I must’ve missed something.” And I had. Gina had fallen in love with me, and I’d had no idea. “And there’s more,” I continued. “His wife just attempted suicide a few days ago. She’s over at Valleycrest in the mental ward. So he’s not in his right mind.”
“That’s still no excuse for him treating you that way.”
In theory, I agreed. But the way I was feeling right now—so woefully inadequate, wishing I could go back in time and see what I had missed, to pay better attention—I couldn’t concur.
That letter haunted me. I should have given it to the attorney. I should’ve put it in the file. I should’ve let my colleague and attorney review it. But I hadn’t. I’d kept it. And now it was too late. I couldn’t bring it up now.
“Really, I’m fine. Just drop it, okay?”
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