Reese fell into place beside the gurney. “Exam room four is free,” he pointed toward it, then asked, “What happened?” of the attendant closest to him.
The name stitched across his pocket said his name was Jaime Gordon. The dark-skinned youth had had two years on the job and was born for this kind of work. He rattled off statistics like a pro, giving Reese cause, effect and vitals.
“Car versus pole. Pole won. Prettiest jag I’ve ever seen.” There was a wistful note in his voice as he flashed a quick, wide grin. “If it’d been mine, I would have treated it like a lady. With respect and a slow, gentle hand.”
It was then that the woman on the gurney looked up at him. Reese caught himself thinking that he had never seen eyes quite that shade of green, a moment before the education he’d worked so hard to attain kicked in again. He began seeing her as a physician would, not a man.
The woman was conscious and appeared to be lucid from the way she looked at him, but there was grave danger of internal bleeding. He needed to get her prepped and into X-ray as quickly as possible.
As he trotted alongside the gurney, he leaned in close to the woman so she could hear him above the noise. “Do you know where you are?”
London Merriweather’s thoughts kept wanting to float away from her, to dissolve into the cottony region that hovered just a breath away, waiting to absorb her thoughts, her mind.
Ever word took effort. Every breath was excruciating. But she couldn’t stop. Don’t stop. You’ll die if you stop. The words throbbed through her head.
“I know where…I’m going to be…once…Wallace…catches up to me,” she answered. Her eyes almost fluttered shut then, but she pushed them opened. “Hell.”
It had been a stupid, stupid thing to do. But all she’d wanted was a few minutes to herself. To be free. To be normal.
Was that so wrong?
She hadn’t seen that pole. She really hadn’t.
Officer, the pole just jumped up at me, honest.
Her mind was all jumbled.
It would be so easy to slip away, to release the white-knuckled grasp she had on the thin thread that tethered her to this world of lights and sounds and the smell of disinfectant.
So easy.
But she was afraid.
For the first time in her life, London Merriweather was truly afraid. Afraid if she let go, even for a second, that would be it. She’d be gone. The person she was would be no more.
She was twenty-three years old and she didn’t want to lose the chance of becoming twenty-four.
And she would. If she slipped away, she would. She knew that as surely as she knew her name.
More.
Stupid, stupid thing to do. Wallace was only doing his job, guarding your body. That’s what bodyguards did. They guarded bodies.
They hovered.
They ate away at your space, bit by bit until there wasn’t any left.
Trying to fight her way back to the surface again, London took a breath in. The pain almost ripped her apart. She thought she cried out, but she wasn’t sure.
London raised her hand and caught hold of the green-attired man beside her.
Doctor?
Orderly?
Trick-or-treater?
Her mind was winking in and out. Focusing took almost more effort than she had at her disposal.
But she did it. She opened eyes that she hadn’t realized had shut again and looked at the man she was holding on to.
“I don’t want…to die.”
There was no panic in her voice, Reese noted. It was a bare-fact statement she’d just given him. He was amazed at her composure at a time like this.
She found more words and strung them together, then pushed them out, the effort exhausting her. She forced herself to look at the man whose hand was in hers.
“You won’t let…that happen…will…you.”
It wasn’t a question, it was a mandate. A queen politely wording a request she knew in her heart could not be disobeyed.
Who the hell was she?
Reese had the feeling that this wasn’t some empty-headed joyrider the paramedics had brought to him but a woman accustomed to being in control of any situation she found herself in.
This must be a hell of a surprise to her, then, he decided.
“No,” he told her firmly. “I won’t.”
He noticed the skeptical look in Jaime’s dark eyes, but Jaime didn’t command his attention now. The young woman did.
He’d told her what she’d wanted to hear. What he’d wanted to hear, too. Because, to do was first to believe it could be done. That was his mantra, it was what he told himself whenever he was faced with something he felt he couldn’t conquer.
Just before he conquered it.
The woman smiled at him then. Just before those incredible green eyes closed, she smiled at him. “Good,” she whispered.
And then lost consciousness.
The next moment the rear doors burst open again. A man came running into the E.R. The unbuttoned, black raincoat he wore flapped about him like a black cape. He was at least six foot six, if not more, relatively heavyset with wide shoulders that reminded Reese of a linebacker he’d once seen on the field. The man had looked like a moving brick wall.
So did this one. And he moved amazingly fast for someone so large.
“Who’s in charge here?” he demanded in the voice of a man who was accustomed to being listened to and obeyed. The next moment, not waiting for an answer, the man’s eyes shifted to him. “Is it you?”
“I’m Dr. Bendenetti,” Reese began.
The man was beside him in an instant. His face was pale, his eyes a little wild. Reese had no doubt that the man could probably reach into his chest and rip out his heart if he took it into his head to do so.
“This is Ambassador Mason Merriweather’s daughter. I want the finest surgeons called in for her. When this is over, I want her better than new, Doctor.” A good five inches taller, the man had to stoop in order to get into Reese’s face. He did so as he growled, “Do I make myself clear?”
Threats had always had a negative effect on Reese. Now was no different. Disengaging his hand from the unconscious woman, his eyes never left the other man’s face. They’d brought the gurney to the swinging doors of room four. He waved the team that had clustered around the rolling stretcher into the room.
When the man started to follow, Reese blocked his way, placing his hand on the bigger man’s chest. There was no way he was going to allow the other man into the room.
“You’ll have to wait outside while we decide what’s best for her.” Stepping inside, Reese turned away from the man and toward his patient.
The swinging doors closed on the man’s stunned, outraged face.
Chapter 2
The next moment, the doors were pushed opened again. The bang as they hit the opposite walls resounded through the room.
“There’s no way you’re going to keep me out,” the man informed Reese, his voice commanding even more obedience than his presence.
His hands already in surgical gloves, his attention focused on the unconscious accident victim before him, Reese’s back was to the doors. He didn’t even bother looking around toward the other man.
Instead, he directed his words to the dark-haired orderly on his left.
“Miguel, call security,” he instructed calmly, cutting away London’s suit from the site of the largest pool of blood. “Tell them to hurry.”
The man stood with a foot inside the room, wavering, immobilized by indecision. A guttural sound of frustration escaped his lips. And then, struggling with his rage, his demeanor became deadly calm.
“I hope for your sake that your affairs are in order, Doctor. You lose her, you don’t leave the hospital. Ever.” With that, he pushed the doors apart again and stepped outside.
Rose Warren, the senior surgical nurse shivered at the quietly uttered prophesy and glanced toward Reese. “I think he means it.”
“I
know he does.”
Reese finished cutting and examined the wound exposed beneath the blood-soaked material. There was no doubt in Reese’s mind that the hulking man behind him could easily snuff out his life if he so chose, but there was no time to consider the situation. He had a patient to try to save, whether or not his own safety had just been put on the line.
He began processing the information coming at him from all sides and issuing orders in conjunction with the findings.
The man scowling just outside the swinging doors, peering through the glass and glaring at their every move, was temporarily forgotten.
The X rays confirmed what Reese already suspected. Miraculously, there were only two fractured ribs. But there was a great deal of internal bleeding going on. If the situation wasn’t corrected immediately, it would turn life threatening in less time than it took to contemplate the circumstances or even to explain them to her not-so-silent guardian.
They had to hurry.
The instant the doors parted, the hulking man came to rigid attention. Surprised that they were on the move again, he fell into place beside the gurney, trotting to keep pace.
“How is she?” he demanded. “Where are you taking her?”
“There’s internal bleeding,” Reese told him.
He took care to keep his own reaction to the man out of his voice. Stress took many forms, and Reese figured that the man’s concern might have been expressed in bullying behavior because of the nature of his work. He’d already seen the hilt of the gun the man wore beneath his overcoat and surmised that he was connected to some kind of bodyguard detail associated with the young woman. Either that or the man was her wise guy/hitman/lover.
“We have to stop it,” he continued. “We’re taking her to the main operating room.”
As they turned a corner, Reese glanced toward the man beside the gurney. He saw deep lines of concern etched into his otherwise smooth face. His expression wasn’t that of a man who was concerned about his job, but of a man who was worried about the fate of a person he cared about.
Reese wondered what the real connection between the two was and decided in the same moment that it was none of his business. All that mattered to him was doing whatever it took to save the woman’s life. Anything beyond that was out of his realm.
Moving swiftly beside the gurney, Wallace Grant took London’s small, limp hand into his. This was all his fault.
His fault.
Damn it, why had she driven away like that? It was almost as if she had been playing some elaborate game of chicken, daring him to catch her.
He was supposed to keep her safe, not jeopardize her life.
The ache in his chest grew. He wasn’t looking forward to calling her father and reporting this latest turn of events. The man had hired him to make sure that what had happened to the Chilean ambassador’s daughter didn’t happen to London.
The anger was gone, temporarily leeched out, when Wallace looked up at the man he was forced to place his faith in.
“Is she going to—?”
“Pull through?” Reese supplied, guessing the end of the man’s question. “I made her a promise that she would. I like keeping my promises.” They’d come to another set of doors. Reese suddenly felt sorry for the man who had threatened him. For a moment the bodyguard looked like a lost hound dog. Compassion filled Reese. “You’re going to have to stay outside.”
Wallace didn’t want to be separated. The irrational fear that she would die if she was out of his sight crowded into his fevered brain. He licked his lips as he looked past the doctor’s shoulder into the pristine room that lay just beyond.
“Can’t I just…?”
Reese firmly shook his head. There was no room for debate, no time for an argument. “No.”
Wallace dragged his hand through slicked-down brown hair. He knew the longer he stood out here arguing, the less time the doctor had to do what needed doing. Saving the ambassador’s daughter. Saving the woman he had sworn to protect with his very life.
“Okay,” Wallace said breathing heavily, as if dragging his bulk around had suddenly become very difficult for him. “I’ll be right out here if you need me.”
“There’s a waiting room,” Reese said, pointing down the hall toward the cheerfully decorated area that was set aside for the families and friends of patients in surgery.
“Right out here,” Wallace repeated, stationing himself in the corridor against the opposite wall. From his position he would be able to look directly into the operating room.
Reese shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Maybe the man was a relative, Reese thought. Or connected to the woman on some level that went far deeper than first noted. Or maybe the man was one of those people who took their jobs to heart. If so, Reese couldn’t fault him. He fell into the same category himself.
The next moment Reese entered the operating room, and all extraneous thoughts about missed breakfasts, silent alarm clocks and strange personal connections were left out in the corridor.
Along with the man with the solemn face and worried eyes.
Three hours later it was over.
The freshly made openings had all been sutured closed, the bleeding had been stopped, the ribs had been taped. She wasn’t, as her bodyguard had demanded, better than new, but she would be well.
The woman’s vital signs had never faltered once. They’d remained strong throughout the lengthy procedure, as if her will to live was not to be snuffed out by whatever curve life and the road had thrown at her.
He wished all his patients were that resilient.
Weary, hungry, relieved, Reese stripped off his surgical mask and cap for the second time that day. Now that this newest crisis was over, he became aware again of the deep pinched feeling in his gut. It felt as if his stomach was stuck to his spine. He still hadn’t had a chance to take in anything more substantial than a stale candy bar.
This time, he promised himself, he didn’t care if the paramedics brought in Santa Claus and his eight tiny reindeer laid out on nine stretchers, he was determined to go get something to eat before he literally passed out from hunger.
At this point freshness would no longer play a part in his selection. He didn’t care what he ultimately got to eat. His only criterion was that it remain relatively inert long enough for him to consume it.
Even the bran muffin was beginning to sound pretty tempting.
But first, he knew, he had to go out and face the sentry out in the hall. The man who had remained steadfast throughout the entire procedure, standing there like an ancient gargoyle statue, guarding the door and watching the surgeon’s every move. Reese hadn’t had to look up to know that the deep-set brown eyes were taking in everything that was being done in the small, brightly lit operating room.
“How—” The single word leaped out at him as soon as Reese pushed open the door.
“She’s fine,” Reese said quickly, cutting the man off. He didn’t want to stand around for any more threats or whatever it was that the man had in mind now that the operation was over. “Like I said, she had some internal bleeding, but we found all the openings and sutured them. She had a couple of fractured ribs as well—”
Wallace stopped him right there. “Fractured?” he demanded. “You didn’t mention them before.”
Reese chose to ignore the accusatory note in the other man’s voice. Instead, he cut him some slack. It was pretty clear that they were both a little over-wrought, he thought.
“It could have been a great deal worse. The paramedic who brought her in said her car was totaled.” Reese saw guilt wash over the wide face. Had that somehow been his fault? he wondered.
“Yeah, it was.” And then, just as suddenly, the guilt left his eyes. His expression turned stony. “How soon can she be moved?”
“Why don’t we wait and see how she does first?” Reese calmly suggested. The next twenty-four hours would decide that. “In the meantime, maybe you should go to admitting and give them any informat
ion you can about her. Administration has forms to keep your mind busy for a while.”
“I don’t need to have my mind kept busy,” the man snapped.
“But I do.” With that, Reese turned on his heel and began to walk away.
“Hey, Doc.”
For a moment, Reese debated just continuing to walk away. There was no sense in encouraging any further confrontation. But if there was going to be another scene, he might as well get it over with now.
Suppressing a sigh, Reese half turned and looked at the larger man. “Yes?”
There was what passed as a half smile on the man’s face. He suddenly didn’t look the least bit threatening, but more like an overgrown puppy whose limbs were too big for his body.
“Thanks.”
Surprised, it took Reese half a beat to recover. He nodded. “It’s what I do.”
Mercifully, Reese’s stomach had the good grace to wait until he was well down the hall before it let out with a fearsome rumbling.
Each eyelid felt as if it was weighed down with its own full-size anvil.
Either that, or someone had applied glue to her lashes.
Maybe they should apply the same compound to the rest of her, London thought giddily, because she felt as if she had shattered into a million pieces.
A million broken, hurting pieces.
Breathing was almost as much of a challenge as trying to pry her eyes open. It certainly hurt a great deal more.
And right now there was a herd of drunken African elephants playing tag and bumping into one another in her head.
London heard a deep, wrenching moan echoing all around her, engulfing her. It sounded vaguely familiar.
It took her a beat to realize that the noise had come from her.
The pain was making her groan. And why did it feel as if there was a steel cage wrapped around her upper torso?
London opened her eyes or thought she did. The only thing that seemed to be filtering through was white. Lots of white.
Heaven? It didn’t feel hot, so it couldn’t be hell.
No, it felt cool, very cool.
M.D. Most Wanted Page 2
