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Go Long

Page 14

by Joanna Blake


  "Fuck."

  I sat up abruptly. It was 8 am. Sally would not be happy with me for staying out all night. Neither would Hendrix or Jezebel.

  Damn it. I had to get home to my dogs.

  I extricated myself from the pile of naked bodies on the enormous bed. There were people passed out everywhere. And there, by the pool... a small group of people doing lines.

  Fuck man, George and his cronies were still partying.

  He waved as I stepped outside.

  "Seen my jacket?"

  He jerked his head towards the cabana. I smiled. I could always trust George to keep an eye out for me. He was a great producer, the best in the biz. But more than that, he made my life easy.

  Maybe too easy.

  He was always there with the party invites, the club appearances, the girls, the drugs.

  I grabbed my jacket from the low-slung couch. It was a nice place. Lots of rich people liked to party with porn stars. I shook my head.

  I didn't blame them.

  I liked to party with me too.

  George was cutting lines on a glass table by the pool. A girl in a bikini next to him leaned over with a rolled up hundred dollar bill. I winced at the sound of her snorting. She passed it to George who took a toot.

  He held it out to me.

  "One for the road?"

  I shook my head.

  "Gotta go. The dogs."

  "Tell Jan to check on them."

  "She moved out. New girlfriend."

  George shook his head sadly. He'd been after January to work on some of our films. To tell the truth, I was relieved that she'd said no. I felt protective of her. She'd had a rough time as a dancer in Miami. My friends Joss and Chan had asked me to help her find her feet in LA and I had.

  Getting her into porn wasn't exactly the nurturing safe haven they'd had in mind.

  "Olivia?"

  "It's her day off."

  "Too bad man, we have another package arriving after lunch. Lots of party favors."

  "Thanks man. Maybe later."

  I fished my keys out of my pocket and smiled at the poor girl with the glazed over eyes. She was young and very pretty. But she wouldn't stay that way for long if she kept hanging around with this crowd.

  I'd seen it a hundred times.

  She was George's flavor of the month. But he would use her up and spit her out. He wouldn't be mean about it. But there were always so many girls hanging around. It didn't take much to talk them out of their clothes.

  Or in front of the camera.

  It was different for George. He needed the flash and the money and the drugs to get laid. The promises of fame.

  And hell, sometimes he came through on them.

  He had for me.

  Of course, I hadn't had to fuck him to do it.

  He'd met me when I was finally emancipated from the latest round of shitty foster parents. I was 18 and hanging out in the clubs, fucking anything that moved.

  Anything hot and female that is.

  He'd taken one look at me and invited me to his table. He'd plied me with booze and drugs. All he'd asked to do in return was watch me fuck. And I was so high by that time, it seemed like a damn good idea.

  He'd taken one look at the monster and bam, a star was born.

  Now here I was, almost seven years later. Still fucking for money and drugs. It was boring.

  I found my bike, undisturbed by the side of the house where I'd left it. It was a good thing too because nobody touched my ride. It was a vintage Harley Knucklehead. It was the first big ticket item I'd bought for myself when I started to get famous.

  I loved that damn bike, almost as much as I loved my dogs.

  The freeway was already packed so I took side roads, weaving across LA towards the hills where I lived. It was quiet and cool up there. The dogs loved it. But if you had to commute to a regular nine to five job, it was a hike and a half.

  Thankfully, my dick paid the bills. And it only worked when I said so.

  I was about halfway home when I realized I was still fucked up.

  I didn't drive drunk. It was just asking for trouble. A drink or two, yeah, everyone in LA did that. But smashed?

  I was cursing under my breath as I turned up a twisty road into the hills. I didn't see the dark gray convertible until it was on top of me. Fucking thing practically blended into the road and the trees. Then suddenly it was there, right in front of me. I threw my weight to the side, breaking with all my might.

  It happened so fast. One second I was riding and the next I was sliding forward on my side, fast. Too fast. Right into the woods on the side of the road.

  The noise was astonishing. I'd never heard anything that loud in my life and I'd been to a shit load of heavy metal concerts. Nightclubs, you name it.

  The sound of your bike getting crushed under the weight of a car blew all that shit out of the water.

  I lay on the side of the road, somehow aware of everything and nothing all at the same time. I had gotten thrown at least ten feet from what I could tell. Nothing hurt. Not yet. But I knew it would soon.

  I closed my eyes as the sound of sirens came closer.

  And then everything faded to black.

  Lexi

  I was almost to the parking lot when I heard my name being called.

  "Lexi! Lexi, we need you!"

  It was Drake, one of the ER nurses. I turned to stare at him wearily. Drake was a big guy. Built like a tank. Huge. That wasn't what made him a good nurse, but it came in handy in the ER. Especially late night.

  That's when the crazies showed up.

  "We are short staffed and there is a crash coming in."

  I nodded, plodding behind him like a zombie.

  A nurse zombie.

  It's not like I could say no.

  I never could.

  I was needed. I could help someone. I would never walk away from that.

  It just wasn't in my nature.

  "How many?"

  "Three adults. One car, one bike."

  I groaned. Bikes accidents were the worst. In the battle between flesh and metal, metal always won.

  We ran for the ER entrance as we heard the sirens approaching. I tossed my purse and jacket onto a chair behind the nurses' station without breaking stride. Just in time to see two ambulances pull in.

  Drake ran to one and I ran to the other.

  I waited as they unloaded a man, late twenties by the look of him.

  "Hang tight man, Alexandra will take good care of you."

  Mark, the EMT was fawning over the patient instead of doing his job. I saw a flash of white teeth from the patient as he smiled. Not dying then. Good.

  I wanted to go home. As soon as he was stable, I could do that.

  "Condition?"

  "One male, possible concussion, broken ribs, some tissue damage. Right arm broken and possible internal bleeding."

  I nodded and held the IV bag to the side as they lowered him to the ground.

  "He's got to make it. Make sure he know all us guys are counting on him."

  I didn't even glance at Mark as we rolled the gurney into the ER at a run.

  "What is he, an athlete?"

  In LA we were used to celebrities. Movie stars, models, rock stars, pop stars, celebrity chefs. You name it, we got it. The only people who really got a reaction from the staff were famous basketball players. This guy looked handsome and strong under the gauze and blood. But not seven feet tall.

  Baseball then.

  Not that I gave a shit.

  Mark laughed.

  "An athlete. Ha, yeah kind of. Anyway, take good care of him."

  I locked the gurney into place and gave Mark a cold stare.

  "I take good care of all my patients. Now, shoo. He needs my attention."

  Mark had the good grace to look abashed as his walkie went off.

  "Yeah, gotta go. See you, man!"

  The man lying on the gurney lifted his hand to give the thumbs up. Then he groaned.


  I shook my head at him, as I started looking him over.

  "Try not to move, the doctor will be here soon."

  He nodded and groaned again. I just tsked at him and checked his vitals, entering them into my tablet. His vitals were good so I moved on, touching him lightly, feeling for breaks.

  "What is your name?"

  "Trent Davis."

  I gave him a look. What kind of name was that? It sounded made up. Like a super villain in a spy movie.

  Bright blue eyes stared back at me. Bright blue, bloodshot eyes. No wonder he was so cheerful.

  The guy was shit faced.

  I made a mental note to do a tox screen.

  I moved to his right side. He flinched as I touched his arm. This is where he got the worst of it.

  "I need to cut your clothes off of you."

  He moaned again.

  "Not- the jacket."

  "Sorry Mr. Davis, it's got to go."

  He nodded, giving up. It was pretty obvious his arm was broken inside it.

  "I'll try and cut along the seams."

  I looked up briefly and my breath caught in my throat. He was smiling at me. He had one of the most devastating smiles I'd ever seen.

  Damn, he really must be a celebrity.

  Pearly white teeth, sensuous lips, a chiseled face. And those eyes. They practically twinkled.

  The patient was flirting with me!

  Chewed up, spit out, and flirting.

  I shook my head and went back to cutting his clothes off of him. The doctor finally came and ordered morphine right away. He looked the patient over while I cleaned the torn skin on his side.

  Finally, the new nurses came on shift. I handed him off to Rachel. She was a good nurse. I felt confident as I stepped back.

  "Wait-"

  The patient's good hand was gripping the edge of my scrubs. I looked over at him. He looked worried.

  "Dr. Jacobs will take good care of you, don't worry."

  "What's your... name?"

  "Alexandra."

  I don't know why I told him. I usually didn't go by my first name with patients. But he just grinned at me, letting his head fall back on the pillow.

  High as a kite, barely conscious and he was still flirting.

  I shook my head and left, grabbing my coat and purse on the way out.

  I'd been here for almost 38 hours now.

  I was ready to pass out. I forced myself to focus for the ride home.

  I didn't want to end up like Mr. Blue Eyes.

  Chapter Three

  Trent

  I was a dumbass.

  I was one big, stupid, lucky to be alive, dumbass.

  I would have been the first to admit it, but I was too busy being poked and prodded and passing out from the massive quantities of pain meds they were feeding me.

  It had to be a lot, considering how much recreational drug use I'd enjoyed over the years.

  So yeah, I was blotto.

  The next few days were a blur of bright lights, being moved around and short periods of extreme pain before passing out again. Olivia had come by to assure me the dogs were alright. Jan was there too to say she would stick around until I was better so the dogs would have someone to take care of them at night.

  George had come by, but I honestly think he was just checking to make sure my dick was still attached to my body. He wasn't even subtle about it.

  The man came to visit my cock, basically.

  On the third day I woke up to see an angel bending over me.

  Not just an angel.

  The angel.

  The one I'd been dreaming about for days.

  I hadn't thought she was real, just a figment of my drug addled brain. I mean, I didn't expect movie stars to look like that, let alone a nurse. A movie star playing a nurse maybe.

  But here she was, fussing around me, like the others.

  Her soft blond hair was pulled back in a neat French Braid. Soft tendrils escaped it, framing a face of indescribable prettiness. Glowing skin, high cheekbones and soft juicy lips that made me want to bite them.

  She must have sensed me looking at her because she looked up at me. Our eyes locked and she froze. We both did.

  Not that I was going anywhere at the moment.

  But right now, I didn't care.

  She pulled away from the bed and started fussing with the machine that hung over me. I watched her, hoping she would look my way again. I wanted to get another look at those eyes.

  Her eyes were hazel.

  But that limp word did not do them justice. The were a combination of pale greens and golds. A little gray. And a hint of blue.

  They fucking glowed.

  I could spend days looking into those eyes and not get bored.

  Not for a second.

  "It's you."

  She glanced at me as she adjusted the meds on my IV drip.

  "What?"

  "You are the one who cut me out of my clothes."

  "Oh so, you remember that."

  "How could I forget?"

  She raised an eyebrow at me.

  "Because you were high as a kite."

  I smiled at her.

  "I'm high as a kite now."

  She nodded.

  "How are you feeling Mr. Davis?"

  "Much better now that you are here, Alexandra."

  "You remembered my name."

  "I wanted to talk to you. To thank you for saving my jacket."

  She rolled her eyes at me.

  "That's too bad, because I have to finish my rounds."

  "Please."

  I grabbed her arm, holding her there a moment.

  "Don't give me any more meds, I want to be awake when you come back."

  She tilted that gorgeous head of hers and really looked at me for the first time.

  "I have to run that by Dr. Giangolo."

  I smiled at her.

  "Do what you have to do."

  She nodded and walked away. Not too quickly though. Not so fast I didn't get a good look at her trim back and graceful hips.

  You couldn't see a lot through her scrubs, but I could tell she had a great ass.

  I just knew it.

  Lexi

  I returned to Mr. Davis's room to lower the morphine drip after getting permission from the doctor. It was hard not to notice how handsome he was as he lay there sleeping. Even relaxed and broken as he was, his body conveyed power and strength.

  That was good. He would need it to recover fully.

  It didn't matter to me that he was handsome. Or that he seemed to be somewhat fixated on me.

  I cared about the wellbeing of all my patients, even the ornery ones.

  And we certainly got our share of those around here.

  Just because he was more pleasant to look at didn't mean he could distract me from my work. That could not happen. I had my eyes on Head Nurse and the pay bump that came with that.

  Besides the guy was probably a lazy celebrity party animal. I had no patience for that. Not when so many other people had such a heavy load of responsibility.

  Partying was not in the game plan. It never had been. I tried not to judge others but I couldn't help but look down on people who were so indulgent.

  Every once in a while I had to admit I envied them the luxury of relaxation. The ability to just check out. Take the night off. Let my hair down so to speak.

  Fuck, I'd never been allowed to do that.

  Not even once.

  But none of this affected my professionalism in the slightest. I wasn't just a good nurse. I was a great nurse.

  One of the best.

  I might not be confident in anything else, but I did know that.

  I looked up to see two police officers hovering in the doorway. I flinched, almost feeling sorry for the sleeping man. He'd broken the law. I knew it. I'd seen the tox screen.

  He'd had copious levels of several drugs in his system at the time of the accident. And alcohol. He had broken the law, and then some.
r />   Still, I didn't really want them to arrest him.

  It would make taking care of him much harder if he was handcuffed to the bed.

  I hated that. Try changing a sheet when you patient was shackled. It was not easy.

  I stepped backwards, staying to assist if the patient became upset.

  "Is he awake?"

  I was about to shake my head when I caught him watching me. He was awake. For how long?

  A funny feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

  He'd been watching me again.

  In fact, he'd been watching me, watch him.

  I felt a blush stain my cheeks at the thought.

  One of the cops had an envelope in his hand. They walked over to the bed, their faces somber. I thought for sure he was about to be charged with something serious.

  "Rez! Man, you did a number on yourself."

  He smiled weakly at the cops.

  "Tell me about it."

  "You gotta get well soon! All the guys at the station told me to tell you that."

  Trent laughed and nodded, even though I could see he was in pain. It took a practiced eye. But he was in agony with the lowered morphine dose.

  "Just wanted you to know that your blood work somehow got lost. Records department snafu."

  "What a shame."

  They all laughed companionably as the cop ripped up the envelope in his hand. I could not believe what I was hearing. It was despicable. He could have been killed! Or killed someone else!

  Instead they were all patting themselves on the back.

  I was seething inside as Trent grinned at them, flashing that perfect smile.

  "Thank you guys. I really appreciate that."

  "Thank you, Rez! You are the King. Get back in the saddle soon."

  "I will."

  "Is everything... functional? It didn't get chopped off did it?"

  Trent laughed, shaking his head 'no.'

  "Thank God! That would be tragic for all of us."

  The other cop pulled something out of his jacket, along with a sharpie.

  "Hey Rez, could you sign something for me?"

  I swooped in like a mother hen, waving them off.

  "No signatures. Enough. His hand is in a cast."

  The cops left looking abashed. They actually backed out of the room, as if they didn't want to take their eyes off of my patient. I stood over the bed, muttering as I increased his dose again.

 

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