CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Tears fell down Debra's cheeks but they weren't tears of anger, but tears of sadness. She hadn't seen House for almost 30 years, prior to a couple of days ago, yet there was something she could relate to with him; that was their bond. She didn't want to hurt him, she really didn't. But she didn't want to get him involved with the mess she got herself into. She'd be risking his life if she stayed. But she couldn't go back. If she went back, she'd risk her life, possibly her parents' lives. She had no where to go, and no one that could help her…maybe that's why she came to her cousin for help.
Debra looked at the door when she heard it opening about ten minutes later. Her cousin walked in with a syringe in his hand.
"What's that?" she asked.
"Something to help you sleep," he said as he walked to her I.V. bag and inserted the needle into the tube.
"No, no, I don't want to sleep," she said as she slowly sat up, put her feet on the floor and tried to stand up. She suddenly became dizzy and sat back down on the bed. "Geez, why am I so dizzy?"
"Lie down, Debra. I gave you sodium thiopental. You're going to be flying high in a second."
"And what exactly is that?" she asked as she lied down. "Whoah, I think I like this," she said with a giggle.
"Uh, you ever heard of sodium pentathol? It's the truth serum." House stated guiltily.
"WHAT? You can't be serious! But, damn, it's good stuff," she said then burst out laughing.
House smiled at her then grabbed a chair and sat down beside the bed.
"Why do you have to know so much, Greg?"
"Because I'm nosy. Hey, I'm the one that's supposed to ask the questions."
"I won't tell you anything! You can't make me talk!" she said in a German accent then chuckled.
"Girl, remind me not to go drinking with you. Okay, who shot you and why?"
Debra closed her eyes and shook her head. "I ain't gonna tell you. You can't make me talk," she said playfully.
"Shut up! God, you're annoying," House said then actually laughed. "Okay, I'm gonna ask this again: who shot you and why?"
"No, Greg, I can't. Please, don't ask me," she pleaded, her voice becoming soft. "He'll hurt them."
House knew the drug was beginning to work and knew he'd get his answers soon. He asked her one more time.
She sighed heavily and seemed to calm down and wasn't so giddy. "My ex." She got quiet and didn't volunteer anymore information.
"When, and why, Debra?"
"The night before I picked you up at the airport."
"You've been walking around a whole week with a hole in your stomach?" he asked astonished.
"No, no, wait. Let me think…when he came by last week we had a big argument – he was drunk and accusing me of cheating on him, even though we'd broken up a year earlier. He lost it, completely lost it. I couldn't talk any sense into him. He threw me up against the wall. I was all shook up and had to catch a flight and …he finally left."
"Had he ever threatened you before?"
"Yeah," she said, her eyes slowly becoming heavy and she became relaxed but she was still with him. "That's why I was getting high. I couldn't handle it. It was getting bad."
House nodded his head in acknowledgement but didn't say anything; he just sat back and listened.
"It was two days ago, night, I think, after I came back home from Michigan. He came by again but that time he was on meth or something because he was really out of it. He swore he'd kill my parents if I didn't tell him who I was seeing; I wasn't seeing anyone!" she said, her voice becoming shaky and nervous but she soon got her composure.
"I didn't take him seriously until he pulled out the gun and waved it in my face. I froze. He moved away from me and I saw I could get by him and ran for the door. He caught me, though, and threw me on the couch. I begged him not to do anything stupid but he wouldn't listen. He just kept getting angrier. His eyes…they looked so wild. He aimed the gun at me and by reflex was to put my hands over my face.
"Like my arms would stop a bullet." She giggled a little then grew serious again. "Anyway, I heard the gun go off and smelled the gunpowder. But at first I didn't feel any pain. But then…I felt it, my stomach, it burned, almost like my blood was boiling and scalding my skin.
"He screamed at me and said it was my fault he shot me. The last thing I remember was a car horn going off in front of the apartment building; I live in a garden apartment," she told him, tears building up in her eyes. "He said he'd be back, and if I tried to hide he'd find me; he knows where my parents live. I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. I just got on a plane yesterday. I didn't know where else to go. I didn't want to go to my parents because that would endanger them…I just had to find some place he didn't know where I was…but, he knows."
Debra started to cry from the anxiety over what had happened to her. House reached out and touched her arm, rubbing it up and down to comfort her.
"I don't know what to do…"
"Debra, don't worry. There's no way he knows where you are."
"No, he does, Greg. You don't get it!" she said alarmed.
"Why? What are you talking about?"
"I remembered on the flight here…he took my address book." She closed her eyes and seemed to doze off for a second but looked at him again. "Your address is written on a loose piece of paper in front of the book. He'll think it's you I'm seeing."
"That's stupid!"
"Yeah, well," she said then yawned. "He's not too bright."
She finally drifted off to sleep. He sat there and watched her for a few minutes.
He wasn't concerned for himself if the ex did come after him; he was more concerned about Cameron. He wasn't used to feeling the way he was. He'd never felt it before and it scared him. He didn't really know what it was to begin with. He'd felt it once before, but not as strong as this; a picture of Stacy crossed his mind.
Oh, my God. I…am falling for her.
Besides, he'd checked in on Cameron hours earlier, when Wilson was with Debra. Nothing was out of the ordinary. She was acting perfectly … well, he did notice she seemed a bit nervous, but thought maybe she was in pain.
Oh, my God…what if he was there?!