by Dee J. Adams
“Ten years ago when Ashley and I moved in together. She couldn’t afford Los Angeles anymore. She had a cousin in Barstow, but the cousin ended up moving all the way to Vegas and Aurora didn’t want to be that far from Ashley. By then she’d met Mickey and he convinced her to move in with him.
“She works the night shift at a twenty-four-hour diner. Clientele is mostly truckers. She works her ass off to make ends meet. She and Mickey live in a rundown mobile home and she won’t take any money from me or Ashley.” Ellie shook her head. “I don’t know how she does it year after year.” Maybe she did know. Aurora had Mickey and he loved her to death. They shared an amazing relationship. Something Ellie figured she’d never have the courage to attempt. Not the way she lived her life now.
“Sounds like hard workers run in the family.” A lock of dark hair fell into his eyes. Despite the dirt, it gave him that playboy look, but he was turning out to be anything but superficial. Quinn ran a hand through his hair, tamed the dark strands.
“That’s for sure.” Ellie tucked some hair behind her ear. “But Ashley works hard so that one day Aurora won’t have to. She vowed years ago to pass the bar, start her own practice and make enough money to support Aurora. Ashley doesn’t want her to work.”
“Why?” Quinn shifted in the seat and faced her. Talking about Ashley and Aurora soothed her frazzled nerves. So did holding his big, warm hand.
“Aurora’s got diabetes. She’s heavy and working all night is hard on her legs.”
“We’re here, folks,” Bill said from the front seat.
Nausea swirled in Ellie’s stomach. Thinking the worst wasn’t going to help her. She glanced at the hospital before looking at Quinn. “Thanks for distracting me. I really needed it.”
He grinned. “I’m so transparent.” She might’ve thought so a couple of days ago, but he kept proving her wrong. Whatever made her think she’d been a good judge of character? A fresh wave of tears blurred her vision and his smile faded. “Hey, none of that pessimistic stuff,” he told her, squeezing her hands again. It felt so good. His strength and warmth shimmied through her and fought the stab of cold reality that threatened to overwhelm her.
Bill stopped at the emergency entrance and Ellie jumped out before he could open her door. She ran into the E.R., a lump in her throat, every step closer had her stomach knotting tighter. The sterile smell and cold chill sent a sense of dread crawling up Ellie’s spine. She headed toward the registration desk, all but blind to the other people milling around.
A receptionist sat at a long desk behind a thick wall of glass. A small speaker was situated in the middle at mouth level.
“Excuse me,” Ellie said. The receptionist looked up from a load of paperwork. Her dark eyes were all business. “My roommate was just brought in a little while ago. Can you tell me anything about Ashley Bristol?”
“Are you a family member?” the nurse asked.
“Practically,” Ellie said, doing her best to be friendly. “We’re like sisters. She’s my roommate.”
“But you aren’t sisters,” the nurse said. She shook her head sadly. “Sorry, miss, but I can’t give out any information unless you’re an immediate family member.”
“You don’t understand,” Ellie said, searching for calm and shoving aside her growing panic. “Her mother is on her way, but it’s going to take hours for her to get here. You have to tell me what’s going on. Please.”
“I’m sorry. There are strict laws that—”
“I don’t give a damn about the law.” Desperation took over and Ellie’s voice climbed an octave. “My best friend is here and I need to know what’s going on. How can you not tell me what’s happening?”
The nurse gave her a cold stare. “Because the law says so.”
Fuck the law. Fury and aggravation pounded through Ellie. She wanted to hit something. Destroy something. “I’m not… Do I look like—?” A sound of frustration roared out of her mouth at the blatant look of refusal on the nurse’s face. She wasn’t going to budge. “Fine,” Ellie said. “Thanks anyway.” Thanks for nothing.
A huge commotion broke out as ambulances pulled up and nurses scrambled for equipment. The receptionist got busy with paperwork as every available person went to help the new arrivals. Quinn pulled Ellie back as four new patients were rushed in on gurneys.
“Traffic accident,” one paramedic called. “Minivan versus MINI Cooper. We’ve got four seriously wounded.”
“We need to clear a treatment room,” a nurse called from the back.
“Use number three,” came another voice. “She was DOA. There was gray matter on site and in the ambulance. Nothing we could do for her. The room is still prepped.”
Hot tears bubbled up and Ellie held back a cry, swallowed a wave of panic. No, no, no. This was not happening. Ashley was not the woman in treatment room three who was dead on arrival. Ashley was here under the care of a boatload of doctors who knew what they were doing.
Think, think. There were other ways to get the information she wanted. She glanced into the waiting room. One woman had her hand wrapped in a bloody towel with a little girl on her lap. A husky, middle-aged man had an ice pack on his knee and a friend flipping through magazines next to him. The only extra door in there led to restrooms. A fresh burst of apprehension ruptured in her chest. She spun and went back out the emergency room doors.
“And where do you plan on going?” Quinn asked from behind her.
She’d completely forgotten about him. She turned but didn’t slow her step. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize you were still here.”
He looked hurt. “Gee, thanks.” Sounded it too. Except he winked at her.
She couldn’t help but smile and she would’ve kissed him for giving her that tiny second of reprieve, only she had things to do. She kept a brisk pace around the building and toward the hospital entrance. “The E.R. is not an island unto itself. It has to connect to the main hospital. I plan to go in from the other side. They can keep me out from that way,” she said thumbing the entrance over her shoulder. “But they can’t from this direction.” She pointed to the main building. “And the clerk at the desk won’t see me because she’s too busy manning her desk and keeping everyone out from her end.”
“I don’t know about this, Elle.” He sounded very uncomfortable with the idea.
“No worries. You don’t have to come with me.” She didn’t slow down and a new wave of anger flashed through her. “For God’s sake, I just want some information. What can be wrong with telling me her condition?” Ellie powered into the main lobby. She stopped at a shallow trash can near the exit and picked up two discarded hospital stickers. She’d visited enough coworkers to know that security wouldn’t let someone in without a visitor’s pass, but she’d also been around long enough to know that some people peeled them off before leaving the hospital. The surprise on Quinn’s face as she attached the sticker to his T-shirt made her feel like a cheat, but no time to let it bother her now. She had a good idea which direction to go and after securing her own sticker, she went down the main hallway and turned left at the first opportunity. “Hey, I understand the need to protect patients from crazy people, but I’m family, dammit. Just because our blood and last names are different doesn’t mean I’m not family.”
Ellie took a right at the next hallway and a left at the one after that. She slowed as she saw an orderly pushing a gurney twenty yards down the hall. He stopped at a bank of elevators and pushed a button.
Her stomach rolled.
The gurney had a body covered by a sheet. They were definitely coming from the E.R. This had to be the DOA patient.
Another orderly came down the hall and the two men shook hands and greeted each other. Both smiling, both happy. As if it didn’t matter that a person lay dead between them. A person whose loved ones would never see them alive again.
A third orderly joined the mix and tossed something to the second guy. He caught it, but knocked into the gurney. A white plastic hospital bag fel
l to the floor and one item spilled out. A purse.
Ellie stopped five yards away. Paralyzed. Every hair on her body stood at attention.
That was Ashley’s purse. She knew because she’d bought it herself for Ash’s twenty-sixth birthday. It was her small black purse with the skinny strap. The one she used when she had a special occasion. Like a memorial for a retired boss.
Ellie couldn’t breathe. Her chest constricted too tightly. She was close enough now to see the edge of a black skirt peeking from under the stark white sheet. A lock of long, blond hair fell over the end of the gurney.
Blood rushed out of her head and all she heard was the thump of her heartbeat loud in her ears. Her knees threatened to buckle. Her stomach threatened to revolt. Hopelessness, desperation and overwhelming panic washed through her entire body.
No. This had to be a joke. Ashley was going to pop up any minute and say April Fools’, even though it was September. It would be just like her to pull a prank like this. The hysterical giggle lodged in Ellie’s throat, morphed into something else.
She couldn’t see past the tears in her eyes. A noise crawled its way up from her gut and chest. She screamed, a foreign sounding howl that came from a deep, dark place as she lunged for the gurney.
Chapter Thirteen
“NOOOOO!”
The mournful wail ripped down the quiet hallway, echoed off the walls and sent a lightning bolt of adrenaline through Quinn’s veins. The agony and despair in the sound took him back six months to his accident, to a very similar scream coming from his own lips as he’d sat trapped in his car. He reached for Ellie a split second too late and missed her, but the orderly pushing the gurney caught her before she reached the body.
“No!” Ellie screamed. “No!” Her volume picked up a few decibels. “Ashley!”
Quinn’s chest constricted as he took her arms from behind and tried to calm her. He caught sight of Ashley’s purse and her long blond hair streaming off the gurney and his stomach clenched. A wave of grief as sharp as any knife cut through his heart. Ellie had spotted it first. No wonder she’d frozen a few seconds ago. No wonder she’d lost control now.
“It’s a practical joke. She’s messing with you, that’s all,” Ellie cried, pleading with the orderly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Ashley, quit playing around.” She struggled to reach the gurney, every muscle taut. “Ashley!” she screamed again. “It’s not funny anymore.”
The orderly was twice her size and barely had her under control as Quinn tried to pull her back. “Call security,” the guy told his friend. His buddy immediately hightailed it down the hall.
“Won’t be necessary,” Quinn said. He used all his muscle to keep Ellie in his grasp. “Calm down, Elle,” he said into her ear, “or they’re going to haul you away. Or worse, give you something to knock you out and you won’t be any help to Aurora.” His words fell on deaf ears as Ellie continued to fight him, her cries echoing off the narrow hallway walls as she screamed for Ashley.
Her best friend. Her dead best friend.
A feeling of helplessness crashed in on Quinn. An emotion so strong it threatened to wipe him out. But he couldn’t deal with it now. Right now, his concern was Ellie. He didn’t see how staying here would benefit anybody. Ellie was too out of it to wait in the E.R. for Ashley’s mother. Too upended to deal with any of this at the moment.
“C’mon, I’m taking you home,” he said, dragging her with him in long strides toward the main entrance.
“No!” Ellie turned and attacked him, her fists pounding at his chest. “I’m not leaving. I told Aurora I’d be here and I’m not leaving.” She spun and took a step, but Quinn caught her with an arm around her waist.
“She won’t be here for hours. You said it yourself. She’s going to call when she gets closer. There’s no reason to wait here. I pro—”
“Screw you!” Ellie tried to run, but Quinn scooped her up and carried her out before she got away from him. The move must’ve taken her by surprise because she quit fighting for a few seconds. Then she fought harder. Did she even know what she was doing anymore? Could she see through the tears in her eyes? Every muscle strained as she battled him, but as muscular as she was and as tough as it was to control her, she was no match for him. He simply outweighed and outgunned her.
Finally, Ellie collapsed against him as the sobs racked her body, as a flood of tears streamed down her cheeks. Another mournful wailed filled the air. “This can’t be happening. She can’t be gone.”
Quinn’s eyes stung as he powered toward the car. Seeing this strong woman fall apart brought up all the heartache and pain he’d tried so hard to dump over the past few months. “I promise I’ll bring you back as soon as her mother gets here. I promise.” If she heard him, she didn’t acknowledge it.
The entire ride home Ellie stared out the window, didn’t talk, didn’t do anything. Quinn couldn’t be sure that she breathed except her eyes were open and occasionally blinking. It was as if she were in a trance. Here, but not here at all. He had no clue if he should say something or stay silent.
One thing he did know. He was in way over his head. He shouldn’t have been hurting so much, but just watching her made it impossible to keep his distance. His heart had never been so tight or ached so much. He was sick inside. Somehow in the span of a couple of days, she’d gotten to him enough so that he cared. More than he should.
At her apartment building, he hefted her bags and walked her to the door. She moved slowly. In a daze. After fishing for keys in her pack, he unlocked the door and followed her inside. She stood there. Frozen. Mute.
Then, as if she’d recognized a cue, Ellie beelined for the counter that separated the den from the kitchen. She reached for something in the cabinets below and came out with a bottle of Jack Daniels.
His stomach flipped. She didn’t drink. She’d told him that the first day he’d met her. Except she took a glass down from a different cabinet and poured it full of whiskey. Without batting an eye, she took a solid chug. Almost as soon as she swallowed, she turned bright red, doubled over and coughed her brains out.
“You told me you didn’t drink,” he said softly. “Don’t do this to yourself.” He set her bags near the door and took a step toward her, a knot in his throat.
She set the glass down and drops of whiskey sloshed over the edge. Relief snaked through him. Crisis averted.
“I don’t. I didn’t. Never had a drink in my life.” She looked up at him. Her dark green eyes haunted, helpless. Then she blinked. “God, I’m sorry. How rude,” she said, reaching for another glass. “Can I pour you some?”
“No.” He was at her side in a heartbeat and took the empty glass out of her hand.
“Okay. Your call. Are you hungry?” She opened the fridge. “There’s leftover pizza from last night.” She was freaking him out. Totally. Somehow she’d switched gears and moved into another mode. Denial?
“No. I’m not hungry. Elle…” What the hell did he say? What was he supposed to do?
She looked at the glass in her hand. “Ashley was right about this stuff. It really cleans out the intestines.” She swirled the liquor in the glass as if it was fine wine that needed savoring. “She kept this stuff for two reasons,” Ellie said of the whiskey. “To knock out a sore throat and—” tears filled her eyes, “—to dull the pain when she was really upset or sad.” Lifting her glass high, she raised her chin. “Here’s to the best roommate in the world. To the best friend a girl could ever have.”
So much for the averted crisis.
She put the glass to her lips and tried again. With the same results. Only this time as she coughed up a lung, she threw the glass in the sink where it shattered and splashed glass and Jack all over the counter.
“Dammit!” Her face contorted into a mask of pain. “I can’t even drink to her.” Tears streaked down her face in a full-on flash flood and Quinn wrapped his arms around her just as her knees buckled.
He felt her despair…couldn’t help but hur
t for her. Pulling her close, Quinn held her up, tucked her head under his chin. Her soft hair brushed against his skin.
Then she looked at him. “What am I going to do?” she whispered.
What the hell was he supposed to say? He’d never been in this situation before. No one ever trusted him with the answers before. No one ever came to him for anything serious. He was the good-time guy. But here was Ellie, relying on him for maybe the biggest answer of her life.
“You’ll be okay,” he said softly. He believed it because Ellie was strong. “It won’t be easy, but you’ll be okay. It just takes time.”
Her shoulders shook as she cried against his chest. Quinn held her tighter, would’ve taken her pain in a heartbeat if he could. For the second time, it hit him…he was in over his head. He didn’t do pain. Or aggravation.
But he’d have done anything to put a smile back on Ellie’s face.
Ashley was dead. It was just now sinking into his brain. The beautiful, funny blonde he’d had dinner with last night was dead. Quinn clenched his jaw against the wave of sadness that swept over him and he squeezed Ellie tighter.
She sobbed harder against him, quiet racking sobs that tore him apart. Then she collapsed again and Quinn lifted her, carried her to the sofa where he sat down, kept her on his lap and held her close. Ellie buried her face in his neck and cried her heart out. No sound in the apartment except for her ragged breathing and muffled cries.
He rocked her gently, slowly. “I’m here,” he whispered. “Just let me hold you.” He kissed her head, rested his cheek against the softness of her hair. “Get it out, sweetheart. Just cry it out,” he murmured.
She did. For a long time. No doubt he’d be here for hours…
Hours? Something nagged at him. Actually, something pounded extremely hard on his brain.
Oh, shit! He’d forgotten his three o’clock appointment with Mac. He checked his watch. Four-thirty. FUCK. What if Mac held this against him? Or told him if he’d been really serious about selling the company, he would’ve shown up at the meeting that took over a week to schedule. Fuck, fuck.
