Subject Seven

Chapter Eighteen
Cody Laurel

Cody was in a new office with a different doctor. Dr. Amelia Powell was in her early thirties if he had to guess, with strawberry blonde hair that she kept pulled back in a severe bun. The idea, according to what his parents had told him, was to get to the root of his problems. According to the last doctor, Dr. Keene, Cody was seeking attention. Not really sick, just a whiny brat, in layman’s terms.

The thought made Cody want to kick the man in his family jewels. He wasn’t looking for attention. He hadn’t run away from home and he didn’t disappear as a cry for help. No one wanted to understand that part.

The session had been going on for around ten minutes, and so far Cody liked the new headshrinker. At least she was fun to look at.

“Why do you think you’re here, Cody?” Dr. Powell looked at him and smiled. He smiled back. It was hard not to when she had a body that belonged in one of the porn sites he liked to surf when the folks were out. There weren’t a lot of girls looking at him on the average day. Mostly they just pretended he didn’t exist.

“Um. Because somebody decided I’m crazy.”

“No. You’re here because your parents wanted you to talk to somebody who can help you understand why you ran away from home.”

And there it was again.

“I didn’t run away from home.” Cute or not, she was already working fast toward pissing him off.

“Well, then why don’t you tell me what happened?” She smiled. He didn’t smile back this time. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. In the long run, you’re just another doctor working for my folks.

“I don’t remember what happened. I was at the ball game and then I was in a jail cell. Why is this so hard for people to understand?” He tried to keep the edge out of his voice, but it wasn’t easy.

“Well, then why don’t we try to get to the bottom of that problem, okay?”

Before he could respond, the phone on her desk beeped shrilly and the secretary’s voice came through the speaker. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Dr. Powell, but there’s a phone call for Cody. The man said it’s an emergency.”

Dr. Powell stared at him for a moment and then pointed toward the phone. “It’s for you. Go ahead if you want.”

He nodded his head and walked over to the phone. His head buzzed with each step and he had a moment of weird double vision. Not double vision exactly, more like he was seeing the world in an unfamiliar way-but then it was gone.

“Hello?” Cody listened, expecting to hear his mother’s or his father’s voice. What he got instead was a complete stranger talking in his ear.

“Hi, Cody.” The voice was deep but pleasant. “We haven’t met, but we really should.”

“Dude, I’m in the middle of a meeting right now.”

“Yeah, with the hot shrink. I know.” Cody looked around the room, pausing for that look at the cleavage he was trying not to stare at. He frowned at the doctor, but she wasn’t actually looking at him so he didn’t think she was setting him up with some crazy little test. There was one window, but all that was outside that window was blue skies. He doubted anyone was out there and looking in from a helicopter.

“Excuse me?”

“Hot shrink. I know where you are. She’s hot. Maybe you can come back and see her soon, but between now and then, you need to get to Boston, Massachusetts.”

“What?” His voice was shrill enough to get the doctor’s attention and she looked his way with a puzzled expression.

“Listen to me, Cody. You need to get to Boston. There are answers for you there.”

“Yeah? I’ll get right on it.” He made sure the sarcasm in his voice was obvious.

“I would if I were you. When you get there, you can finally find out why you woke up in a jail cell.”

“Who is this?”

“Call me Joe Bronx. I’m your new best friend.”

“I don’t need a new best friend,” he answered.

“Oh, but you do. Trust me, the cute doctor isn’t on your side. By the time this call is done, she’s going to decide to tell your parents all about it and they’ll probably have a fit.”

“Seriously, who are you?”

“Joe Bronx. We discussed that. Get to Boston.”

“It’s a big place. Where?”

“Find a pen and paper. Write down the number I give you.”

The good news about office desks is that there’s almost always a pen and paper. He wrote down the number.

“What if I don’t?”

“You’ll get there. Whether you want to or not. I’m just trying to give you a chance to run your own life for a change.”

“What do you mean?”

“Who decided you need to see the hot shrink? You? Or your parents?” The voice was calm, rational, not picking at all.

“My parents.”

“There’s your answer. Decide for yourself. When you get to Boston, call the number. We’ll meet, and I’ll explain everything.” The conversation was severed. Cody looked at the phone for a few seconds and finally set it carefully back into its cradle.

“Who was that?” Dr. Powell had stood up and moved behind him. He could smell her perfume, soft and sweet and inviting. He could practically feel the heat from her body. Hell, he could turn fast enough and probably their bodies would be close to the same height and he could kiss that mouth before she had a chance to react.

Yeah. Right. Never gonna happen.

Instead of fighting it, he decided to tell the doctor the truth. He turned to face her, but slowly. Sure enough, they were close to the same height and she was just almost close enough to steal a kiss from. “A guy named Joe Bronx, who said if I go to Boston, he’ll tell me why I was arrested.”

“Really?” She looked at him, and he stared at her eyes. They were green but shot with hazel and what looked like gold. He could have stared into her eyes for hours. “What do you think about that?”

“I think someone’s having fun with me. I don’t like it.”

“How did he know to call you here?”

“He said he could see me. He knew where I was.”

She looked at him for a while and slowly nodded, smiled. The look made his knees weak. It also made his brain want to panic. Joe Bronx was right. She’d be reporting to his folks very soon. She wasn’t to be trusted.

He’d have to trust Joe. There had to be an answer that didn’t involve him being crazy, and Joe was offering at least a chance of that.