Chapter Nineteen

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It didn't take me long to find all of the information that I needed to know about Doctor Adams. I found his address, his family, his friends, and his social medias with everything he's ever posted about his personal life, which wasn't much. I hacked into his systems, ensuring that nothing relating to Hydra had been involved in what had happened in his personal life. After thorough amounts of searching, I'd concluded that Hydra was not involved, much to my relief.

Though, when the following Wednesday came, and he had canceled the session once again, I took a taxi to his address to ensure that he was alright. I knocked on his door, stepping back a little to give a little space as I waited for him to answer. I chewed on my lip, nervously, unsure of what to expect. The only thing I didn't find out when I did my research was what happened to him.

He finally opened his door, peering at me with his brows knit together in confusion. He wore the exact opposite of his usual, professional attire; a plain T-shirt and shorts that didn't match, with his brown hair uncombed and a mess. The smell of alcohol that came from him and the house was strong, hitting my nose the second he had opened the door. I furrowed my brows deeply at the sight of it with worry, looking him up and down.

"Kara? What. . . how did you-" he rasped, shifting slightly in the doorway as he held the door open.

"Tracking people down is one of my specialties, Adams. You know that." I cut him off, meeting his gaze with a concerned expression. "I came to make sure everything was okay."

He sighed, looking away from me as he brushed his hair back as a poor effort in taming it. "Yes, everything is fine, I just. . . am going through a bit of a rough patch right now."

I eyed him, hoping he'd give a little more intel on what he meant. I didn't want to pry, but seeing how much of a mess he was in was worrying. I'd never taken him to be the kind of man to get to this kind of low. Whatever happened to him must have been something terrible.

"Are you drunk?" I questioned, watching as he slowly swayed side to side as he stood there.

He grunted, shrugging as he glanced back up at me. "Just. . . I'm fine, Kara. Go home. I'll see you on Wednesday for our next session."

I shook my head as he started to close the door, stopping it in it's tracks with a firm hand on the wood. "No, I'm not leaving you alone like this."

"I'm not alone. Go home, Kara." he objected, trying to close the door again.

I kept it firmly in place with ease no matter how hard he tried to push on the door, peering at him with a serious expression. "Don't lie to me. You are alone in there, I can tell."

He sighed, rubbing his face in irritation at my unwillingness to cooperate with his wishes. "Kara-"

"No. Move, I'm coming in." I gently pushed him to the side, walking into his house.

It would have been a nice place if it weren't for the beer bottles and trash everywhere. It had simple modern decor, typical for a man like himself who lived alone, and plain white walls with wood flooring that was clearly unswept or mopped for days. The blinds on the windows were shut, with the grey curtains closed over it to further block out the sun's light. The only light shining in the room was a lamp beside his grey couch, doing little to light the entire room.

Adams sighed in defeat, and closed the front door in silence. He walked past me as I stared at the condition of his home with deeply furrowed brows, noticing a picture frame on the glass coffee table in front of the couch, surrounded by beer bottles and cans. I clenched my jaw, scowling at the sight.

"Adams, this is clearly not okay." I stated, watching as he plopped himself lazily on the couch with a groggy huff.

He shrugged me off, grabbing one of the beet bottles in front of him, and took a long swig. "I'll deal with it, later."

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