by Andi Jaxon
Table of Contents
THE GOOD DOCTOR
TABLE OF CONTENTS
D E D I C A T I O N
THE GOOD DOCTOR PLAYLIST
P R O L O G U E
C H A P T E R O N E
C H A P T E R T W O
C H A P T E R T H R E E
C H A P T E R F O U R
C H A P T E R F I V E
C H A P T E R S I X
C H A P T E R S E V E N
C H A P T E R E I G H T
C H A P T E R N I N E
C H A P T E R T E N
C H A P T E R E L E V E N
C H A P T E R T W E L V E
C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N
C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N
C H A P T E R F I F T E E N
C H A P T E R S I X T E E N
E P I L O G U E
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author Andi Jaxon
The Good Doctor
Andi Jaxon
THE GOOD DOCTOR
Copyright © 2018 by Andi Jaxon. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: PopKitty Designs
Formatting: Abby Formatting & Web Design
Editing: Jenny Dillion with Rather be Reading
TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE GOOD DOCTOR
TABLE OF CONTENTS
D E D I C A T I O N
THE GOOD DOCTOR PLAYLIST
P R O L O G U E
C H A P T E R O N E
C H A P T E R T W O
C H A P T E R T H R E E
C H A P T E R F O U R
C H A P T E R F I V E
C H A P T E R S I X
C H A P T E R S E V E N
C H A P T E R E I G H T
C H A P T E R N I N E
C H A P T E R T E N
C H A P T E R E L E V E N
C H A P T E R T W E L V E
C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N
C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N
C H A P T E R F I F T E E N
C H A P T E R S I X T E E N
E P I L O G U E
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
D E D I C A T I O N
This book is dedicated to all those who suffer in silence. This is your story, your chance to be heard.
You are not alone, and you are not at fault. There are others just like you throughout the world who understand. There are those who want to hear your story, who want to help your voice be heard.
National Domestic Abuse Hotline
Get help without saying a word. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
http://www.thehotline.org
The Good Doctor Playlist
You had me at Hello by Bon Jovi
One Call Away by Charlie Puth
Isn’t She Lovely by Anthem Lights
Miserable at Best by Mayday Parade
My Type by The Chainsmokers
Arms by Christina Perry
Come Home by One Republic
Daughters by John Mayer
Rearview mirror by Pearl Jam
Fall for You by Secondhand Serenade
Only Hope Switchfoot
Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit
Make it Rain by Ed Sheeran
Tell Her You Love Her (Acoustic) by Echosmith
Firestarter by The Prodigy
Rise Up by Adra Day
P R O L O G U E
Isabel
The moving truck arrived at our new house in Washington. I sit and watch the movers as they unload the trailer. The Navy sent us to yet another location, maybe this time we can stay longer than three years.
Jason has been on edge since the movers arrived. I’m hoping once the house is unpacked and I get everything running smoothly, he won’t be so angry all the time. Once the boxes are gone, and the house is put back in order, everything will be alright.
“Ma’am, where would you like us to stack these boxes?” A worker is looking at me expectantly, but I’m not sure if I can answer.
“Ma’am?” he says again, obviously confused.
I open my mouth to answer, but I’m saved from having to respond.
“Just against that wall in the dining room is fine,” I hear my husband growl from behind me.
The worker nods before putting the box down and leaving. Suddenly, I feel Jason behind me as he grabs my arm, leaving bruises I’m sure.
“You don’t talk to anyone, do you understand me?” he snarls in my ear.
Flinching away from him, I nod my understanding. Leaning in close, I can feel his breath against my skin,
“Be a good little mouse, and get this shit put away, or you won’t be able to take a full breath for a month.”
The next thing I hear is the front door slam, followed quickly by a car starting, then tires squealing. I close my eyes and let out a sigh. This move has been very stressful for him, and since I haven’t been sleeping very well, I’ve been tired and lazy; not helping as much as I should have.
As the day progresses, I keep unpacking, trying to get as much done as I can before Jason returns. Maybe he’ll be happy if I can get enough done.
The kitchen is just about done. His things in the bedroom are done, clothes hung up or folded in the dresser, along with the master bathroom organized the way he likes it. I make sure Sophie’s room is set up enough to keep her busy and out of his way.
It’s almost time for dinner and Sophie will be hungry soon, but he hasn’t returned. The movers are finishing up and will need his signature on the paperwork, so I grab my phone to give him a call.
The line barely has a chance to ring before he picks up,
“Jesus Christ, what the fuck do you want?” he hollers at me.
“I-I-I’m sorry. The-the-the mov-movers are al-al-almost done,” I stutter in response.
I hate that I stutter when he’s angry, it makes him angrier, but I can’t stop it.
“Can’t you do anything right? Fine, I’ll be there in a god-damn minute.” He growls before hanging up.
“Mommy?” I hear my daughter’s sweet voice from down the hallway.
“Yes, sweetheart?” I say, trying to keep the tremble from my voice.
“I’m hungry,” she says.
“Okay, as soon as dinner is ready, I’ll let you know. Please go back to your room, honey. Daddy is stressed, and needs quiet, okay?” I tell her.
Having grown up in the house with him, she knows what I mean. My poor, innocent, little girl has seen too much.
Her head and shoulders slump, “Okay, Mommy.”
When he gets back to the house, I’m sitting on the couch, hands in between my knees, rocking back and forth. My stomach is turning, but as he storms in the door, I flinch.
The man from the moving company stands with a clipboard, not sure how to react. When he tried to talk to me, I didn’t dare respond. I knew that if I were caught talking to him, my punishment would be worse.
Instantly, Jason puts on his ‘fake face,’ the one that he shows the world. The one that I’ve never seen directed at me.
“Sorry about that,” he smiles at the worker. “I prefer to be the one to sign the forms. I have a little control issue,” he laughs as if it’s a joke.
“Uh, no problem, sir. I just need you to sign a
few papers, and we can get out of your way,” the man says, handing the clipboard over.
He signs the forms, the door closes, and the big truck pulls away. I’m once again at the mercy of my husband. There is no one here to protect us.
Looking at me, he smirks, but it’s not a good sign. This look means that I have made him angry and am going to pay the price for it. I can only hope that Sophie stays out of the way this time.
C H A P T E R O N E
Adam
“Come in,” I shouted.
Corpsman Reese pokes his head through my office door.
“Sir, Donna called, there’s a woman refusing to leave until she speaks to you.”
Grand. All I need is a crazy patient on top of all this paperwork stacked on my desk.
“Okay, I’m on my way,” I sigh
I’m so tired. I’m already 30 minutes behind, I don’t have time for this, but duty calls. I try to plaster a fake smile on my face as I walk down the hall toward the front desk. As I step into the waiting area, I notice a woman staring out the window toward the Hood Canal.
“Ma’am? What can I do for you?” I ask from behind her.
With a startled gasp, she jumps out of the chair. She turns to face me, but doesn’t lift her eyes.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you, are you alright?” I ask, concerned.
She’s young, mid 20’s at most with a round face, chocolate brown hair that falls past her shoulder blades. The problem is I can’t seem to take my eyes off her. Slowly, she raises her eyes, taking in the khaki uniform I’m wearing, but stops short of reaching my face.
She looks haunted, skittish, and has deep dark circles under her eyes. Her pale skin tells me she hasn’t slept well in quite some time.
“I-I-I’m s-s-sorry to bother you s-s-si-sir, but I’m new here and w-w-wanted to meet my doc-doc-doctor.” She stammers, quickly glancing at my face then back to my collar.
Don’t be scared of me, honey.
“Would you like to have a seat? Do you have any questions for me?” I ask her in a quiet, calm voice.
I don’t want to frighten her anymore than I already have. Something about her is calling me. I am overcome with the desire to protect her from whatever has her so shaken. If she would only tell me what’s wrong.
She shakes her head rapidly and starts inching back towards the elevator when the doors open suddenly.
“ISABEL!” A man yells from inside.
She flinches as if she’s been struck; spinning on her heels, she walks hastily toward the elevator. As soon as she’s within arm’s reach, he yanks her into the elevator. I watch in shock as she crumples in on herself and begins to tremble.
Only now do I notice a little girl, huddled in the corner behind him. He then releases the doors while staring at her like he caught us having sex right here in the waiting room.
So, it was a WHO, not a WHAT that has her so frightened.
I can do nothing but stare at her trembling form, appearing to make herself as small as possible before the elevator doors close. What the fuck can I do? I have to do something! Maybe I should go after them. He wouldn’t challenge an officer, would he?
I could offer her a safe place to stay until we figure out somewhere he couldn’t find her. I swore an oath to protect and serve. I won’t go back on that now. Functioning purely on instinct, I head toward the elevator and hit the down button, watching to see where the couple gets off. Parking garage level B…
I got you now, motherfucker!
“Reese! Call the MAs’ and tell them to meet me at Parking Level B. I believe that one of my patients is in fear for their life and there’s a child involved! They can meet me there.” I yell as the elevator doors open.
“Yes, Sir.” I hear Reese say before the doors shut.
Why is it taking so long to go down four damn floors!
My stomach drops as I think about everything that could happen to Isabel while I tried to make up my damn mind. As the doors open, I fly out and rush toward the exit, but as I turn the corner, all I see is the tail lights.
Damn it!
“Sir, we rushed here as soon as we could. What seems to be the situation?” an MA says.
I look down and notice his name tag said, Michaels. “Michaels, a new patient of mine came to introduce themselves. Her name is Isabel. However, before I could get her last name she was verbally assaulted and manhandled by a man, who I am assuming was her husband in the presence of myself, Reese, and Donna.”
I shake my head trying to forget the frightened look on her face as the elevator doors closed. I never want to see that look on anyone’s face again.
“Is that it, Sir? Did you have a run in with them here in the garage?”
“No, when I got here, they were gone. However, I did get a partial plate number. Will that help at all?” I look at Michaels hopeful.
“Unfortunately, Sir, no. We will take statements from you and your staff, but without a formal complaint from the victim there isn’t anything further we can do.”
“Thanks, Michaels. I’ll do anything that I can to help. I am sure everyone else feels the same. Follow me back to my office, I would like to give my statement there. I still have patients to see.”
As I make my way back to my office, I can’t help but replay what happened in my mind. I didn’t get the proper information, so I can’t make a report of abuse. That’s Doctor 101 shit. You always ask a patient their name when you meet them. If I was thinking with my head and not annoyed by the interruption, I would have done better. All I had to go on now was her first name. I didn’t notice a wedding ring, but I also wasn’t paying much attention to her hands. I’ll just have to wait for her to make another appointment, something tells me that will be happening sooner rather than later.
C H A P T E R T W O
Adam
I’ve been running from exam room to exam room all morning, as well as being roughly 15 minutes behind, and it isn’t even noon. I love to be busy, don’t get me wrong, but I hate to leave patients waiting. As I wait for my next patient, my mind wanders to Isabel, again. I haven’t been able to get the image of her terrified face out of my mind. I come in every day hoping she has stopped back in, left a message, or made an appointment. I am sure I am driving poor Donna nuts by now.
Shaking my head to regain my focus, I see Reese step out of exam room three to brief me on my next patient.
“Who do you have for me next?”
“Isabel Alexander, 24, weight 176, height 5’ 8”, heart rate 126. I noticed bruising on her arm along with something on the inside of her elbow, track marks maybe. She made an appointment today complaining of insomnia.”
Isabel? Maybe this might be…
“Hello Mrs. Alexander,” I say brightly as I walk in the exam room. It isn’t until I look up that I realize who I am speaking to.
It’s her
Closing the door quickly, there is nothing I can do but stare into her big beautiful eyes.
They’re green.
Big beautiful, but terrified green eyes stare at me while she cowers in the chair by the desk.
“Isabel, I’m so glad to see you again,” I say calmly, although I am anything but calm.
“I’m sorry, but I need to get your heart rate again, it seemed high when Corpsman Reese took it.”
I'm lying, but it was the easiest way I could think of to get a look at those bruises.
“O-o-oh, um I-I-I don’t n-n-need it to be taken a-again. I-I-I just haven’t s-sl-ept well.” She stammers.
I slowly reach for one of her hands, but immediately pull back when she flinches at my touch.
“Isabel, Reese told me that he noticed bruises on your arm. Can you tell me what happened?” I ask softly.
“I-I-I fell when playing with my do-do-dog.” She replies breaking eye contact to stare at her hands.
Liar.
“Isabel, why don’t you tell me what brought you in today?”
I think it’s time to try a different tactic
.
“O-O-Oh well… I umm haven’t um been sleeping well,” she says.
“Okay. When was your last physical? I don’t like to prescribe medications to patients until I know if they have any underlying conditions.” I stated matter-of-factly watching her face closely for any type of reaction.
A single tear slides down her cheek, “It’s not as bad as it seems. The move was stressful. Thank you for your time.” She says quietly, standing to leave.
I quickly stand and stop her hasty retreat by placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinches but stops with her hand on the doorknob.
“I would like to see you again. Perhaps we can have coffee instead?” I say with a smile. “Here, take my card. I’ll write my cell number and email on it. Contact me anytime, day or night, I am your doctor after all.”
“Isabel, there are people who can help you. If not me, someone, anyone, if you need anything, please do not hesitate to contact them. We are here to help.”
I hope I don’t sound like a total creeper.
With a shy smile, she takes the card and shoves it into her purse before scurrying out of the exam room.
“Well, I guess my day can’t get any worse, now can it?” I say into the empty room as I try to collect my thoughts. Reese suddenly appears in the doorway.
“Sir? Are you alright?”
“Yes, Reese. I’m fine. Who’s next?”
Isabel
Dr. Adam Patterson is probably the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help but think it. The way those blue eyes peered into my soul the first time we met has become my new drug. The only thing Jason wants me for is being his punching bag these days, but I know it is just the stress. Things will get better soon. He loves me, at least I think he does. I honestly cannot remember the last time he told me.
