The Touch of Murder by Patrick Logan

The Touch of Murder by Patrick Logan

Author:Patrick Logan [Logan, Patrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pathological Ink
Published: 2023-05-08T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter 38

“Your EKG looks good, and electrolytes are all within range,” the doctor said. “I think you’re almost ready for discharge. We’ll keep you here for another twelve hours or so, just to make sure, but if everything stays this way,” he tapped his pen on the clipboard, “you’ll be good to go.”

Steve wasn’t sure how to feel about this. On one hand, he was glad that he was getting healthier, and that he was going to make a full recovery. That was a plus.

The downside was that once he left, he’d have access to drugs again. Or if not direct access, he’d know where to find some.

Could he resist?

For the first time in about four months, he didn’t really feel the urge to use. Didn’t feel like he needed opioids to get through the next few hours. Steve was no expert, but he attributed at least part of this cooling-down period to the fact that he’d nearly died. But he also knew that like the alcoholic who has a nasty hangover and says they’ll never drink again, this was fleeting.

Memories of pain were like farts in the wind.

They came, they fouled up the place, but then they were gone and soon thereafter forgotten.

“Doc, I think I need help,” Steve said quietly, too ashamed to look at the man.

The doctor tapped his pen incessantly until Steve was forced to raise his eyes.

“Right. I thought it might come to this. To be honest, Mr. Burns, the best thing that you can do for yourself at this point is counseling. I know it’s difficult for you, given your position and an obvious desire for secrecy. Group sessions have been shown to be the most effective in overcoming addiction and trauma, but I’m guessing that that’s out of the question?”

“You guessed correctly.”

The doctor nodded.

“Well, I think the next best thing is private counseling. There is one psychiatrist I always recommend.” The doctor flipped to a blank page, scribbled a name, then tore the paper off and handed it to Steve.

He shouldn’t have been surprised by the name, but he was: Dr. Jane Bernard.

Steve carefully folded the paper into a small square.

“I can also give you a prescription for methadone if you’re still experiencing physical withdrawal symptoms.”

“No—no more drugs.”

Steve was adamant.

“Then I suggest you give Dr. Bernard a call. I’ll be back in a few hours to check up on you again. Try to continue to get some rest, Sheriff.”

“Thanks.”

The doctor left, and Steve lay on his bed holding the paper in his hand, debating what to do with it. He knew of Dr. Bernard, knew what Veronica thought of the woman now. He also knew how she considered the psychiatrist before learning about Dante Fiori.

Talking about his feelings wasn’t something that got him excited. He’d tried therapy for a short while after Julia had gone missing.

Steve hadn’t gotten much out of it other than feeling guilty that he was doing something other than looking for his wife.

But the doctor was right, he had to do something.



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