by Ladew, Lisa
The elevator doors opened onto a nurses station. There were three nurses sitting at the station, all intent upon their work. One looked up, and quickly looked back down again when she saw them.
Reece strode to the station and addressed the closest nurse. “You there, who is the attending right now?”
You there? thought Emma. Isn’t this his department? Doesn’t he know these nurses?
The nurse looked up, and Emma almost took a step back at the obvious animosity in her eyes. She looked like she was trying to burn a hole through Reece’s forehead. “Dr. Fadley,” she said, her voice strangely neutral, empty of any emotion whatsoever.
Emma looked at Reece, wondering what he would think of the nurse’s heated look, but he wasn’t looking at the nurse’s face. As he talked to her, he looked slightly over her left shoulder. How strange.
Reece gave the nurse some instructions and then took Emma’s hand, pulling her down the hallway. True to his word, he gave Emma a full tour. She saw his brand new office - huge, with a view of the city - and he took her through the entire post-op ward. Emma noted that every time he passed a nurse he did not say high or acknowledge her presence. Weird, she thought again. She was starting to feel a headache coming on. She almost never got headaches, but when she did she was very careful about them because she had migraines as a teenager and she never wanted to experience those again. She thanked Reece for the tour and asked if he could drive her back to her car so she could head home and get some rest.
***
Back home, in a warm bath she carefully unpacked her impressions of the evening. She so wanted to like Reece - so wanted to believe he was the one, but the evening left her unsure of anything.
She sighed and slipped deeper in the relaxing water. Well, she guessed she would still be seeing Craig on Sunday afternoon. Her spirits picked up a bit just at the thought of Craig. He had asked her what kind of stuff she liked to do on dates and she had said - oh, something fun, like biking or hiking. He had smiled then and told her he had “just the thing” and told her to dress as if she were going hiking.
She wondered what he had planned. It sounded like fun already, whatever it was.
She sighed, and sunk down deeper into the bubbles, till only her nose and the top of her head were above the water.
Chapter 9.
Norman Foster eased open the front door and slipped into the living room of the drug house. No one even looked up, which was how he wanted it. On his way through the main room he grabbed Lydia out of her chair. She was floating for sure, head lolling and eyes mostly closed. When he grabbed her hand she came out of the chair in a fluid motion, like he had really grabbed a balloon on a string.
He pulled her through the hallway to the room in the back of the house. He unlocked the room with a key on his keyring and pushed her in before him. She went straight to the bed, knowing that’s where he wanted her.
This room was the heart of the house. This is where “cops-in-the-know” came to relax. Norman coined that phrase. It described any cop he liked who was willing to do what he wanted him to do. No women cops were allowed to be “in the know” though. They were too shifty. You couldn’t rely on them not to break down and squeal the first time some fed came sniffing around. The only women he wanted to deal with were the women he fucked in this room. And when the fucking was done, he was done with them.
The room was larger than the living room - big enough for a king size bed off to one side, plus a desk and a couch. Jeffries was already here, sitting on the couch, smoking what was probably an A-bomb, heroin and marijuana mixed in a cigarette, and watching TV.
Norman grunted in his direction. Jeffries waggled his fingers in greeting.
Norman walked to the desk and pulled out the RF detector. He swept the room for bugs, paying particular attention to the TV and the computer. Clean. Good.
“Strip,” he told Lydia.
She lifted her shirt over her head and he felt himself stiffen. She was young, probably under 20, and was still a chipper - not quite an addict, although he didn’t give her more than a month or two. She still looked good and took care of her hair and body and didn’t have any scars or marks. Her breasts were perky and perfect. He walked over and grabbed one. It felt hefty in his hand. He slid his fingers to the nipple and pinched. “Pants off.”
In a cat-like motion she laid back on the bed, pulling her nipple out of his reach, and lifted her legs to one side, sliding her pants down and dropping them on the ground. She didn’t have to be told to roll over. Norman didn’t have sex facing women. He only looked at the back of their head. Well, at least not since Emma.
Norman unbuckled his pants and pulled out his dick, rolling a condom on it quickly and then sliding into her in one motion. He grabbed a big handful of her hair with one hand and worked single-mindedly towards climax.
“She’s dating again,” Jeffries said.
Norman only grunted. If ‘she’ was who he thought it was he wanted to finish this before he heard any more of the conversation.
Norman worked harder, staring at Lydia’s ass, and putting all his focus on the sensation of sex. He was in a hurry now. Yes. He stiffened with his release and ground his teeth together. He pulled out and headed to the bathroom to clean up.
Norman unlocked his personal cabinet and pulled out a clean wash cloth. He soaped it up and washed down every part of his body that had touched Lydia. She didn’t look dirty to most people, but he knew she was. Every woman he had ever met except for Emma was dirty. He could see it, seemingly just under their skin, like a waxy layer of dead cells.
He checked his dark hair in the mirror. Perfect, as usual. He knew he looked good. Women seemed to fall all over themselves to talk to him when they first met him. Emma once said he looked like a scary Hugh Jackman. He wasn’t one to judge if other men looked good or not, but he took it as a compliment. He swiped his thumb over each eyebrow, smoothing it down and dried off.
When he came out, he saw Lydia was waiting to see if he wanted anything else. Good girl.
“Who is dating again?” he asked Jeffries.
“Emma, she is dating some doctor at Westwood General.”
That fucking cunt. Who does she think she is? Hasn’t she learned her fucking lesson yet? Norman balled his hands into fists and paced the room. Now that he was a Captain it was harder for him to go out roughing people up himself. What was he going to do this time? When he made Assistant Chief, and was done with all this bullshit she was going to marry him again and legitimize him. She just didn’t know it yet. He knew she would come around if he just put a little time and sweet talk into it. But she couldn’t go ruining that by finding some guy before then.
“Who is Emma?” Lydia asked from the bed, slowly and haltingly.
In two big steps Norman was on her. He slapped her across the face. “Shut up bitch! This isn’t your business. Get your clothes and get out of here.”
Lydia shrank back but he saw the truth in her eyes. Some bitches needed to be slapped or they thought you didn’t like them anymore. She was one of them. Daddy must have slapped her a lot. She grabbed her clothes and ran to the door.
“Oh Lydia,” he called, liltingly.
She turned back, a hand holding her cheek. He tossed her a tin full of powder. It hit her on the shoulder and bounced to the floor. She scrabbled over to it and grabbed it, holding it to her chest with her hands. She glanced at him once more and opened the door, rushing out into the hallway.
He locked it behind her and started making plans. Emma needed another lesson. One that would finally sink in.
Chapter 10.
Sunday morning Emma slept in, trying to recover from her long shifts of the week. Just yesterday she had worked 16 hours and had two cardiac arrest patients. Those were difficult if the ride to the hospital was long, because CPR took a lot out of everybody.
When she finally got moving she walked to her favorite cafe and ordered breakfast. A leisurely breakfast with no one talking to her was a tr
eat she did not get to enjoy often.
Her mind kept turning her towards her date. Her excitement put a spring in her step and happiness in her heart.
When 3 o’clock finally loomed closer she got ready. She wore her best exercise clothes, which were also hopefully a little sexy. Form fitting lululemon pants and tank plus new running shoes. She pulled her hair back in a high pony and put on some light makeup. She appraised herself in the mirror and nodded. This was much more her look than that little black dress.
Just before 3 she ran outside to be ready and waiting for Craig on the sidewalk. A large teal-blue F150 was parked in front of her house and he was sitting in the driver’s seat.
Her whole body suddenly flushed warm. She wiped her forehead in case she was sweating. She had forgotten he was an early bird like her.
He got out and ran around to open the passenger side. Emma’s eyes slid hungrily over his body. She never had seen him in civvies before and he looked amazing. His natural firefighters chest filled out his clean, blue, logo-less, tshirt perfectly, his biceps stretching the sleeves mercilessly. Emma wasn’t sure, but the t-shirt looked ironed. She grinned at the thought. His cowboy jeans certainly had a crease down the front of them, and his hiking boots were immaculate. This was her kind of man too. A solid wall of a man who worked with his hands and made you feel safe just by being there, but who still paid attention to details.
“Hi,” she smiled at him when she got to the door.
“Hi,” he smiled back and those dimples slid into view. “You look great!” he gushed. “Do you do yoga?”
“Sometimes. I go to a class down the block when I have time, and sometimes I do a little to help me sleep after a bad shift.” Emma climbed up into his passenger seat.
He nodded. “I do some too. I hurt my back 2 years ago and the doctor wanted to do surgery but I found a chiropractor who helped me and she recommended yoga, so I went to some classes and then I didn’t even need the surgery.” He shut the door and leaned in to the open window.
“That’s so great!” she said. “Most guys I know won’t even try it. Like it’s a woman’s sport or something.”
“Well, I did feel a little uncomfortable the first few times I went to the class because it was mostly women, but once I figure out how hard it was I didn’t feel weird anymore. Women are just smarter than men, that’s all.”
He smiled that charming smile at her again and she felt like melting. That smile made her want to just skip the date and head back to her house with him in tow. She wanted to club him over the head, pull him into her den and do naughty things to him until one of them had to go to work again.
Craig ran around the front of the truck and Emma pinched her leg, hard, through her yoga pants. Get a grip on yourself Em. She was afraid her dirty thoughts would show right up on her face and he would think she was some kind of freak.
Craig got in and fastened his seatbelt. Emma did the same. “Here we go,” he growled in his deep, sexy voice and she smiled.
“Where are we going?” Emma couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice.
“Somewhere fun,” he answered.
“Oh, somewhere fun, huh? I’ll be the judge of that,” she challenged, with a teasing lilt to her voice, turning in her seat a little to face him.
“Ok, you’re on,” he teased back. “I know we only have an afternoon date, but how about if you don’t think it’s fun I’ll buy you dinner. If you do think it’s fun, you buy me dinner.” He glanced toward her with that dimple-lined smile in full effect.
“Wait, so all I have to do to get free dinner is not have fun this afternoon? I’m not sure how to feel about that.” Emma chuckled. “But you’re on! You seem pretty darn sure of yourself.”
“Oh you’ll see. You are gonna love it, and then I’m going to get myself some free lobster tonight,” Now he was practically gloating.
“Hmph, what’s to stop me from saying I didn’t like it even if I did and getting free … something even more expensive!” They both laughed at her inability to come up with something more expensive than lobster.
“Oh I’m not worried, you’re an open book Emma Hill. It’s pretty easy to tell what you are thinking by looking at your face. What’s that expression? You wear your heart on your sleeve.”
That wasn’t the first time Emma had heard that her expressive face was like a screen, broadcasting out every thought in her head for the world to see. But she had a few tricks up her sleeve. If she was aware of it she could stonewall with the best of them. Her big issue was most of the time she wasn’t aware of it.
“That’s what you think Mr. Craig Big-Shot Masterson,” Emma’s teasing smile and light tone betrayed her words. “I can leave the men guessing if I want to.”
Craig glanced at her again with warmth and admiration in his gaze. “I believe it Emma, how is it someone like you isn’t taken already?” As if realizing what he said Craig’s mouth immediately dropped open and he stammered “Uh, I mean, well, I didn’t mean, uh.”
Emma laughed. “That’s OK Craig. No offense taken. I guess I’m not the only one who doesn’t have a filter sometimes.”
Craig looked relieved and gave her a sweet smile that only made one dimple appear.
“Actually, I was married once, but it was such a horrible experience that I haven’t really dated much since.”
“Really, how long ago was that?” Craig asked.
She scrunched up her nose and said “Can you believe almost 7 years now?”
“You haven’t dated in 7 years?” His head whipped around towards her and his mouth fell open.
She laughed at him. “Well, I’ve dated here and there but my ex-husband always chased the guys away so I finally quit trying.
“What, is he a fighter or something? How did he chase guys away?”
Emma was actually glad they were having this conversation. This is something she’d never done before. She should mention this to Reece too. Maybe she should try to head off Norman-problems before they got started.
“No, he’s not a fighter, he’s a cop.” After a short pause she added, “and not a very nice one.”
Craig took his eyes off the road long enough to look at her again, his eyes dark and hooded. She had never seen him look like this and she didn’t like it. He looked mean.
“Who is he?”
“Norman Foster. Do you know him?”
Craig’s hands jerked on the wheel and the big truck swerved a little bit in the lane. He quickly corrected and stared hard at the road. Emma could tell his jaw was clenched hard. A muscle in his jaw jumped. She imagined she could hear his teeth squeaking as he ground them together.
A ripple of worry shot through her. “Do you know him?” she asked again quietly.
“I know of him. You’re right, he’s not a very nice guy. How in the world did you end up married to him?”
Emma wasn’t sure how their light, airy teasing had ended up like this. Did all men have this dangerous side to them?
“We were young. I was very naive. Heck, I still am naive, I know it. I like to believe the best in everyone. It makes life easier sometimes, you know?” She looked at him but he was still looking at the road with his jaw on lock-down.
“He was a completely different person when we dated. He was the sweetest man I had ever known, and then when we got married, within 24 hours - while we were on our honeymoon - he changed. I saw his true personality. The next 4 months were pure hell, and 4 months later we were divorced.”
Craig looked thoughtful at this information. “So he’s a sociopath,” he said speculatively, almost like a statement of fact, like he wasn’t talking to Emma at all.
Emma just wanted this conversation to be over. She hated the thick atmosphere in the truck now. She wanted to have fun, not talk about Norman. “Well, I don’t know if he’s a sociopath or not, but it’s possible,” she said with an air of finality, “but I don’t want to talk about him anyway.”
Craig’s expression cleared, just like th
at. “Right! No ex-husband talk allowed,” he called in his teasing voice. “Besides, we are here.”
Emma looked around. With the tension of the last 5 minutes of conversation she hadn’t noticed where they were - the airport service road. “Oh my goodness, are we going to the Bahamas?” she cried with mock excitement.
He looked at her with something like fear in his eyes and she collapsed in a fit of giggles.
“Ha ha, you got me. No silly, we are going here.” He pulled into a culdesac in front of a warehouse that backed up against the far side of the tarmac.
“Sky Adventures,” Emma read off the sign out front. “Sky Adventures, what is this? I’m not going skydiving Craig.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “You’d be surprised Emma. Just trust me OK?”
Emma’s breath quickened. She really didn’t want to jump out of a plane, and she didn’t want to go in this warehouse and be ganged up on by a bunch of people trying to convince her to do it.
Craig ran around to her side and opened the truck door while she was ruminating. Now she felt double stupid. She could open her own doors. He took her hand and smiled at her and pulled her gently. “Seriously Emma, trust me.”
She took a deep breath and slid down out of the seat. “Ok.”
Craig opened the warehouse door for her, and beckoned her inside first. As she walked in, her nervousness instantly turned 180 degrees into hard excitement when she saw the clear tube that ran from floor to ceiling with the man flying around inside. “We’re going to indoor skydive?” she turned on him and grabbed him by the shirt, peering into his face, almost shaking him.
Craig chuckled. “Yep, sound like fun?”
“I have always wanted to do this, I just never did. I didn’t even know we had it in Westwood Harbor!” Emma was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet like a happy 4 year old.
“Yeah, it’s a quiet operation. They mostly do training and drills. I’m friends with the owner so I come out and play sometimes. He cleared us 2 hours this afternoon. It starts in about 10 minutes.”
2 hours of flying. Emma was over the moon excited. How much fun this was going to be!
