by Jayne Blue
I stood up from my chair and Sly put an arm around me. He said some things as we walked toward the door together. He opened it and I was greeted to a chorus of cheers, old familiar faces and new friends, all raising their glasses to me. It was good. It was home. But all I could think about was the girl I left behind.
I had no right to ask if I could see her now. No right to even ask where she was. When I said goodbye, I meant forever.
It turns out forever can sneak up on you faster than you think.
Chapter Two
Ava
“All right, Mrs. Pulaski, you just count to three and you won’t even feel the stick.” The old woman gave me a dubious scowl as her clouded gray eyes narrowed to slits.
“Don’t you let that very large black man come near me!”
Keeping a firm but careful grip on Mrs. Pulaski’s left arm, I glanced over my shoulder. Cal, the very large black man in question, shook his head and gave a shrug.
“We’re just trying to help you, Mrs. Pulaski,” he said. I didn’t like the look of the angry welt on Cal’s cheek where she had scratched him when he tried to help her onto the gurney. She apparently also tried to kick him in the balls when he put her in his rig to transport her to my E.R.
I turned back to her. “Cal’s going to stay right where he is, I promise. Now you just do what I said. Give me a quick three count and we’ll get you feeling better in no time. You’re dehydrated.”
She gave me a defiant harrumph but started counting. I rolled her arm quickly and got the needle catheter in on the two count. Before she could move, I pulled the needle and hooked up her lines. She gave me a sweet smile as I untied the tourniquet from her bony upper arm. Her skin was soft and brittle like crepe paper. I patted her on the knee.
“Nice moves, Nurse O,” Cal said from the corner. I shushed him. Mrs. Pulaski did better when she focused just on me. I smiled back at her.
“You just give that a little time and you’re going to feel good as new.” Her eyes narrowed to slits again as she watched the fluids drip into her arm. I checked the bag and slid the IV stand as far behind the bed as I could so she couldn’t reach it.
“Now you stay put,” I said. “The doctor is going to be here in just a second. Can we call Judy for you now?”
Misty, the World’s Greatest Nursing Assistant, poked her curly red head around the curtain and wagged her eyebrows at me. I smiled and jerked my chin up. She smiled and nodded. We were under control now. On a scale of one to ten, Delores Pulaski was only at about a five on her usual difficulty meter. She suffered from advanced Alzheimer’s and had a habit of wandering off from her daughter Judy’s apartment. This was the third time in a month. She really needed round-the-clock care but Judy Pulaski couldn’t afford it. We did the best we could for her. For now, some electrolytes and blood pressure meds would set her to rights. Next time, she might not be so lucky. Unfortunately, there was really no way Social Services wouldn’t have to get involved now.
Misty came to sit with her and I walked over to Cal, peeled off my exam gloves and threw them in the trash. Then I put my hands on my hips and looked up. Cal was very large indeed. My eyes came to about his mid-chest level and I stared up at him and stomped my foot. “Your turn now,” I said, poking my finger into his chest. “Let’s get you cleaned up. No arguments.”
Cal’s face melted into a sheepish grin and he shook his head. Then he straightened and saluted me. “Whatever you say, Major.”
I hooked my arm through his and led him into the adjacent examination room. “It’s Captain, and I’m retired, smartass.”
Cal popped up on the gurney and I went to the sink to scrub my hands again. “Where did you find her this time?”
Cal sighed. “She got as far as the park at the end of her street. Scared a couple of teenagers making out under the slide and they called 911.”
“Good thing,” I said. I gripped Cal’s chin with my fingers and tilted his head so I could get a better look. “Does that hurt?”
He had three long scratches along his left cheek. The deepest one at the center oozed fresh blood. I didn’t think he’d need stitches but that one might leave a scar.
“Who’s riding tonight?” he said, hissing as I tilted his head the other way.
“Dr. Endicott’s here,” I answered. “You’re lucky. Brancheau’s on vacation until next week.”
Cal nodded. Dr. Brancheau treated everyone in the E.R., including EMTs like Cal, like something he’d scraped off the bottom of his shoe. It didn’t help matters that Cal was now dating Brancheau’s ex-girlfriend, one of the first-year interns. This place really was a night-time soap opera. Except there were no McDreamys. Plenty of McNastys and McWhat-Was-I-Thinkings though.
My gut clenched at the memory of my own recent bout of bad judgment. My cell phone kept vibrating in my pocket because of it. Last night, after a particularly busy shift and too much beer, I’d engaged in some very “fourth or fifth date behavior” on my second date with Chris the pharmacist. I hadn’t drawn up the courage to call him back yet.
“Great.” Cal hissed again. For a very large man, he was also a bit of a baby. I patted him on the stomach.
“Endicott’s one bed over last I checked, I’ll send him in next. I’m guessing he could probably be persuaded to just use a little glue. Bright side, chicks dig scars. Think how tough this will make you seem.”
Cal rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Help me make up a better story.”
“What?” I backed toward the door and spread my hands wide. “I wouldn’t dream of letting everyone know you got taken down by a little old lady.”
“Shhh! Have mercy on me, Olander!”
I laughed and turned on my heel. I stole a glance at the clock above the nurse’s hub, something I try never to do. I worked nightside seven to sevens. It was just past midnight now. We’d been slow all evening but it was a full moon. I knew it wouldn’t last.
“Endicott still down in 3?” I called over to Joleen, my roommate and partner in crime at the desk. She had a phone in her ear. She tucked a loose strand of her nut brown hair back into her ponytail holder, nodded, and pointed across the hall. Just then, the ambulance bay doors opened and two uniformed officers came in. They each had an arm around a skinny, craggily faced man who dragged his feet between them. He looked up, his eyes glassy and a stream of spittle hanging from the corner of his mouth. He wore a gray t-shirt that had probably been white at one time. There was a flash of recognition when he saw me, then his eyes went out of focus again.
One of the officers, Tom Gleason, I knew well. We’d both been working the same basic shift for the better part of five years. I also knew this particular patient well.
“Tommy Boy!” I clutched my hand to my heart with one hand as I hit the button to open the security doors to let them in. “It’s not even my birthday and you bring me presents?” I grabbed a wheelchair and slid it over to them.
“Yep,” Gleason said. “Fast Eddie here said he just couldn’t get enough of your sweet face, Ava.”
“Be still my heart.” Gleason and his partner, a rookie who looked about fifteen with bright red hair and a deer-in-headlights expression, unhooked themselves from Eddie and gently plopped him into the chair.
I put on a new pair of gloves and crouched down to Eddie’s eye level. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Eddie.”
With a jerking motion, Eddie pulled up his chin. For a split second, he locked eyes with me, then his went out of focus yet again and his head lolled to the side. He reeked of bourbon and sweat and his skin was practically iridescent yellow.
I put a hand on Eddie’s knee and peered down, trying to get him to look at me again. Eddie was in end-stage liver failure. Like Mrs. Pulaski, we’d do the best we could for him, but he’d no doubt end up back here before the month was out ... if he lived that long. We got two versions of him depending on how epic his current bender was. He was either belligerent or abusive to everyone he encountered, o
r like he was now, docile and barely able to stand. Docile Eddie was harder to bring around.
“Wanna go best two out of three?” A voice came from behind me.
I straightened. Gleason whistled and shook his head.
“Aren’t we up to about seven out of nine?” I said, turning to Dr. Mark Endicott. He was in his mid-thirties like me, buff with a thick head of sandy hair and had a natural curve to his mouth that gave him a constant smirk. I’d been telling him for the better part of a year he ought to grow a mustache so the patients didn’t think he was just being an asshole.
He had just returned from his own tour in Afghanistan with a Medevac unit. We never talked about it, he and I, but I could always tell when a patient here sparked some memory for him. He got quiet. Took extra time. Disappeared into the linen closet at the end of the hall. And he knew when I was having a rough time too. I’m the one who showed him how to pick the lock on the linen closet.
Endicott bent low and shined a light in Eddie’s eyes. Misty came around and wheeled Eddie into an open exam room. We really were dead so far. The waiting room was cleared out. I usually found that an ominous sign.
“I’ll take .20. That’s one and a half,” Endicott said as Misty pulled back the curtain.
“You doing Price is Right rules?” Gleason asked. “Maybe I should get in on this. You still play for Diet Cokes. Put me down for .10.”
I shook my head. “Sucker bets, both of you,” I said. “We play for caramel lattes at this level. And its .320 or I’m buying for the whole E.R.”
Misty walked by laughing. “I can’t believe you guys still take Ava on. She’s kicked your ass so many times.”
“What are you guessing?” The rookie cop finally spoke up.
“BACs, blood alcohol content,” Gleason answered. “Nurse Ava here is kind of a legend at the numbers.”
“Aw,” I said. “You flatter me, Gleason. Venti. That’s twenty ounces. Don’t forget.”
He shook his head as I turned. “Doc,” I said. “Cal Sanders is over in Exam Two. He’s got a nasty scratch on his cheek.”
“Girlfriend troubles?”
I looked across the hall; from the edge of his gurney, Cal pointed his finger at me in warning. His reputation seemed to be entirely within my control.
“Uh huh,” I said, raising my voice so he could hear. “Yeah. Let’s just say he got attacked by a cougar. Make sure you give him a rabies shot.”
Cal shook his head and smacked his forehead with his palm.
“Heads up!” Joleen shouted from the desk. She pulled the phone away from her ear again. “Wrong way driver on I-5. Took out a church van. First group is about five minutes out! At least four criticals including an amputation on the scene.”
Full moon. Empty waiting room. I knew it was a bad omen.
And Joleen had it wrong. The first ambulance pulled in not two minutes after she took the call. The first patient, a twenty-year-old white male, had coded on the way over and a young EMT ran alongside the gurney trying to keep up chest compressions. The victim looked gray and as soon as I got to him, I pulled the girl off him and leapt up to straddle him. This kid was going fast and it might already be too late to do any good. The EMT was young, blonde, fresh faced and looked scared out of her mind. I had half a thought to introduce her to Gleason’s new partner when the dust settled. She better get over her own deer-in-headlights look quick. I put the odds at less than fifty percent that she was going to last. As it was, she reminded me of someone. A little like seeing a ghost and for a moment, I didn’t know what it was. Then it hit me.
She was me. I was this girl not so very long ago. She was cutting her teeth in the back of a rig hurtling down the interstate. I cut mine on a sand-swept battlefield near Baghdad. In spite of all the chaos, I couldn’t help smiling to myself. I could think of about five army doctors who sized me up the same way when they met me. Maybe there was hope for this one too.
“Rookie!” I shouted as two nurses took the gurney with me and the victim on it at a run.
She looked up, shaking. “You did good. Go do more of it!”
Her smile faltered and she smoothed a strand of hair away from her face. I saw Endicott shake his head as I rolled by.
***
The kid on the gurney didn’t make it. After they code, they usually don’t. It’s not like it is in the movies. That was the bad news. The good news was that everyone else in that church van looked like they would make it. Out of twelve people, that wasn’t a bad outcome. The driver died too but somehow that seemed like justice.
“Good work today.” Dr. Endicott took a chance waltzing into our locker room. It also made me like him that much more. He was one of the few doctors I worked with who understood this floor was a team. I wiped the sweat from my brow and threw my scrub top into a plastic bag. Joleen and Misty were the only other people in here and all three of us looked like we had been the ones in a car wreck.
“You too,” I said. He smiled, tapped his fist against one of the lockers and turned to leave.
“Not so fast,” I called out. “Eddie’s labs came back. They’re up at the station. You want to check for yourself or do you trust me?”
Endicott shook his head and slumped his shoulders. “As long as you’re not going to gloat.”
I smiled and threw my backpack over my shoulder. As soon as I did, I felt my cell phone vibrate against my hip again. Like it or not, I was going to have to cowgirl up and answer it.
“No gloating. But between you and Officer Gleason, I’m going to be one well-caffeinated woman tomorrow.”
Endicott put his hand over his heart as if he’d been shot. “Do I even want to look? How close were you?”
“.323.” Misty shouted it out then lifted her knuckles for me to knock.
“Price is Right rules: she who comes closest without going over. I win,” I said as I walked past the doctor and patted him on the shoulder in consolation.
“Next time, Olander,” Endicott shouted after me as I headed for the double doors to the parking lot and the first whiff of fresh air I’d taken in more than twelve hours.
My phone vibrated again and I had to contort myself sideways to reach it. I couldn’t avoid it anymore. The screen was still flashing when I pulled it out. My heart fluttered when I saw the caller ID. I blew a breath out to steady myself. This wasn’t Chris the pharmacist.
Sly.
I hesitated, hovering my thumb over the screen before I answered. Taking another breath, I finally swiped the screen and lifted the phone to my ear.
“Hey,” I said. “Are you up super early or super late?”
Rich laughter filled my ear, loud enough I had to hold the phone out for a second. “Maybe I just like to start my day to the sound of your voice.”
I leaned against the lamp post and let my backpack slide off my shoulder. “Lucky it’s just my voice. I’m just getting off work. I smell like blood and three kinds of vomit.”
“Words to melt a man’s heart, gorgeous.”
I shook my head but didn’t answer. Sly paused a beat, letting the silence hang for a second.
“We need to talk,” he finally said. I pressed the back of my head against the lamp post and shut my eyes tight. “I have to see you. Can you come to the Den this afternoon? Preferably after you shower.”
I bumped my head against the lamp post twice and looked up toward the sky. It was already blazing bright. “Sure. Just let me get a few hours of sleep first, okay? I’m on sevens.”
“Whatever you need, Ava. Why don’t you let me send Colt or one of other guys to pick you up around three?”
“It’s okay. I can drive myself. That way I can leave open the possibility of making a clean getaway.”
Sly paused again before answering. “Suit yourself, honey. Just don’t be late.”
I couldn’t help but smile. His tone was light but his intentions clear. Sly Cullinan, President of the Great Wolves M.C., was a man used to gett
ing what he wanted. And right now, he wanted me. My heart tripped again knowing full well what that usually meant.
Chapter Three
Dex
Charlie Brogan had a voice as loud as a freight train. The sound of it slammed into my ears as he dragged the covers off me and snapped the window blinds, letting in stabbing rays of sunlight. It took me a few seconds to remember where the hell I was. Pine paneled walls, clean white sheets, and a twelve-point buck head mounted across the room. I was in one of the rooms above the Wolf Den. I had vague memories of staggering up here when my Welcome Home party died down last night. It was more like earlier this morning.
“Wakey, wakey; eggs and bakey! Goddamm, you look like hell, kid,” Charlie bellowed.
I muttered something in the neighborhood of “Fuck off,” but it choked in my sandpaper throat. Something thumped next to my ear. I got one eye opened and saw it was a water bottle. I managed to prop myself up on one elbow to unscrew the cap. The water felt clean and good going down and I chugged it.
“What time is it?” I said when my throat started working again. Blood pulsed between my ears as the full weight of my hangover settled in.
“Almost ten.” Charlie sat down on the edge of the bed and patted my leg. Shit. Even that hurt. “Think you’ll live?”
I sat full up. I was wearing my t-shirt from yesterday and a pair of boxers. My jeans and leather jacket were in a heap on the floor.
“Do I even want to ask how I made it up here and how those made it over there?”
Charlie wagged his gray caterpillar eyebrows at me and smiled. It made me glad. For so long, I’d seen nothing but grief and worry in his round face. It pained me to know that I caused it. It was good to see some of the old light in his eyes.
“Well,” I said. “The bed’s empty and I don’t see panties on the lamp shade. Can I assume I made it up here unmolested?”
Charlie let out one of his great belly laughs and got up. “Nobody downstairs is talkin’. ’Course, they aren’t walking or doing much of anything else either. I swear to God, I started my morning checking for pulses.”
