Hearts Series Bundle: Books 1-6

by Sabrina Lacey

  My eyes land flatly on her. “Oh. So you are a shrink.”

  She smiles like I’m a wounded child. I fucking hate that. I’m not wounded. I’ve never been wounded. I just don’t always agree with society and its bullshit. Especially shrinks. The craziest people I knew in college, were studying to be shrinks. They were searching to heal their own demons, thinking they were aching to heal other’s. If you don’t know that about yourself, how are you going to know it about other people?

  “I understand you’ve been through something very intense, that you fainted under the stress and were brought here by ambulance.”

  “Now we’re all caught up,” I mumble, glancing to Maria who’s watching from the corner, expressionless.

  “Would you like to talk to me about that for a moment in private?”

  I roll my eyes without rolling my eyes; that you’ve got to be kidding me face. “I don’t need to be evaluated. I’m a grown-up. I know how I feel and what’s going on with my body and my head. I’m fine. Really.”

  She nods to them and they go out, but not before Maria throws me a look that this is a necessary evil and not to fight it. That’s the problem with necessary evils, sometimes they should be fought, but so few people do it. So I say, “They don’t have to leave. I really don’t want to be shrunk.”

  The doctor exits after Maria and holds his hand on the door handle for an extra second as he looks in, before leaving us alone.

  “I’m fine. I really am.”

  “Ms. O’Brien.”

  “Ms. Wineapple.”

  With her hands clasped in front of her, she smiles with the patience of one who deals with ‘my type’ all the time. “Have you ever been in an event such as the one you experienced, before?”

  “Having a shrink quiz me while I’m in a hospital gown? No. Never.”

  Her eyes are like a dead fish’s, but her smile remains on her lips. “Humor is a common way to handle stress.”

  “Tell me when you start being funny.”

  We stare at each other. Her hands slide into her pockets. Her thin lips purse and she crosses to my chart, pulling out the slow sound of paper against plastic as she un-sheaths it and flips through papers and jargon I’ve not yet seen.

  I pull my legs up to my chest, leaning against the drawn up bed, my pillow fallen uncomfortably against the middle of my back. I could fix it, but I don’t.

  “What do you need from me to make you feel better about letting me go home?”

  Her eyes flicker up from the chart. “It’s you who we want to feel better. This is a hospital, Ms. O’Brien…”

  “It’s not Disneyland?” I lay my chin on my knees and look at her from underneath my raised eyebrows.

  She stares at me. I stare back. She sucks on her lips, the color smudging. After a charged beat, she turns on the heel of her comfortable shoes and leaves me alone in the room.

  My heart starts pounding as I wait. A voice from the past drifts in; my mother’s. Annie, really! Why can’t you just be nicer? You’re going to get yourself in trouble by rocking the boat like you do. People don’t like it. You’ll see. Take my advice because it will save you a lot of hassle. And stop dying your hair – your real hair color is so pretty! (big sigh) Why do you have to be so difficult?

  Doctor Dead Eyes comes back in alone, carrying my chart. He meets my eyes for half a second, but the lack of indication of what he might be thinking convinces me I’m headed to the Guillotine. “We’ve discussed…”

  Noises pull our attention to the door. Laura’s voice is on the other side, saying loudly, “I don’t care when visiting hours are. That’s such a bunch of bull anyway. What are you gonna do, arrest me?”

  Relief overtakes me and my guard vanishes. “Oh man, are you a sight for sore eyes.”

  Laura walks in with Taryn right behind her. “Hey kid. How’s it goin’?” Behind them, Ms. Wineapple bobs her head in a gap to throw me a chafed look. She exits, vanishing the side, never to be seen from again… one can only hope.

  I lower my knees and open my arms to get hugs from both my friends. “I’m great. Right Doctor?”

  “We’re going to do some blood work on you, but I’d like to get you home today.” He walks past my friends, but to Taryn, he smiles. “I like the fringe.”

  We all watch him leave.

  Taryn calls out to the closed door, “Thank you!” Her body swivels back to us. “I think he likes me. Should I go see if he’s married?” She plants her butt on the edge of my bed.

  “Please do. God, it’s good to see you guys.”

  Laura stands next to the bed with her arms crossed. “You gave us a scare there, girlie.”

  “You mean you don’t like seeing your friends carted off, unconscious? That’s not a good time for you?” They both shake their heads slowly, and I lose my joking smile. “I’m sorry.”

  Taryn leans back on her arm, elbow locked. “It was really crazy. One minute you seemed fine – in a daze, but fine. Then you came out of the office and it was like we were watching a drunk child. You just collapsed.”

  Laura’s jaw tightens. “Nothing would wake you.”

  Not really wanting to picture it, I look down and pick at one of my nails. “Wow, that’s crazy.”

  “It wasn’t fun. But you look good, now. The light is back in your eyes.” Laura unzips her cropped leather jacket and holds it open like a flasher. I look at her fitted t-shirt and read what it says: We Need Beer. We Need Le Barré.

  My eyes go almost as wide as my mouth. “I love it!!”

  “This?” Laura pulls her jacket off and tosses it over her shoulder to parade around. “Oh, it’s just a little something I put together to get some neighborly participation.”

  “It’s amazing.”

  Taryn is grinning at me. “I got the decals from Staples. You just print it on your computer and iron it on.”

  Laura tosses her jacket on the weird chair and puts her fists on her hips, assuming a super hero’s stance. “I thought, what can I do to help? I know! I’ll tell the neighborhood what happened. This close to home – a robbery? They’ll want to help. People come together in times of crisis. It’s what we’re best at. Especially protecting one of our own.”

  Taryn leans forward to inform me, “And those who don’t…are fucking lame.”

  Laura continues, “So, we’re offering the decals for people to sew onto their own shirts. And Manny’s brother said he’d build a website for donations. You never know!”

  I was so moved when they helped me clean the bar, but the level they’ve taken this is staggering. A lump grows in my throat and I don’t say anything for a second as I reach out toward Laura. She steps to me and I touch the shirt in awe. I wrap my arms around her waist and give her a big hug. Taryn leans in as I open my arms to her, and she squeezes me so tightly that I come off the bed. “Thank you. I don’t know what else to say, but thank you!”

  They smile, and I see they’re a little misty, too.

  “We’ve got your back, kid. We really didn’t like seeing you on the floor like that. It was scary.”

  Taryn reaches over and rubs my knee, then straightens her back again and adjusts her legs so she’s more comfortable. “This whole thing must have been really scary for you. Being held up… I can’t even imagine.”

  “Yeah.” I bring my knees up again and rest my chin on them.

  Something clouds Taryn’s face and she glances to Laura, saying something with just her look. “We met Brendan’s girlfriend. She introduced herself. She acted really weird.”

  Laura’s eyes flash. “She stole his jacket.”

  Taryn rolls her eyes to Laura. “She asked for it. Weirdly, but still. She didn’t steal it. She is his girlfriend after all.”

  The puzzle pieces lock into place and I blurt, “She took his jacket from you?” They nod. “Guys, she’s not his girlfriend! She said she was, but she’s not!”

  Taryn sits up fast like she’s been hit for a gust of wind. “She lied? Then why’d she tell us
she was his girlfriend? Oh man, Annie. You have to watch out for that one. She’s gone off the deep end.”

  Laura rakes her fingers through her hair and stares into the memory of meeting Rebecca. “What a weirdo. Her eyes were all rabid, too, like she was on coke or something.”

  I throw her a rueful smile. “She’s not on coke. She’s just in love with him. Oh man. That’s it. She’s in love with him. And she walked in on us having sex in his room. Poor thing. I feel so bad for her.”

  “What???!!!” They both cry out.

  Gesturing with my hands, I explain all the important details – which means I tell them every single thing I can remember. Nothing is left out. They listen, rapt, and crack up when I explain my falling off the bed and nearly taking Rebecca out with my plummeting IV pole. “Here I am – oh this is so great, I’m with the love of my life, and he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Then the door opens and BAM! I’m in a heap on the floor yelping in pain, my IV needle swinging and my panties all like this!”

  I twist my hands to demonstrate, while they lose their shit. Taryn even snorts, which throws us into even greater hysterics. She smacks my leg. “You outdid my bathroom stunt!”

  Laughing, I cry out, “I did! And I’m just getting started.”

  They whoop. Maria pops her head in, and looks around the room. “You guys are having too much fun in here. Cut it out.” Her eyes dance with amusement as she walks in. “I have to draw your blood, Annie.”

  Laura and Taryn get quiet way too quickly.

  “Wow. Balloon popper. Guys. I’m fine. Nobody died.”

  “Hopefully that psychopath did,” Laura mutters under her breath. “I hope you shot him in the heart, Annie.”

  My eyebrows fly up. “Jeez, Laura. Harsh.”

  She shrugs as Maria draws the needle full of blood and places the cap on it. “He fired at you.” Maria’s eyes flit to mine from beneath her concentrated eyebrows. Since no one says anything, Laura keeps going. “People like that shouldn’t be walking around. You try to have a normal life, you work for what you have, and then these fuckers think they can take it from you – including your life? What gives them the right to take what’s not theirs? The ego!”

  Taryn and Maria are still quiet.

  I watch Maria put the cap on the second blood sample. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought about it, yet. Been living it too much to think about it, I guess. But I agree. It’s not right.”

  Taryn mumbles, “I think people can be rehabilitated.”

  Laura immediately counters, “Have kids and find out how much less lenient you become with evil people.”

  “Okay, I think it’s time we let Annie get some sleep.” Maria’s voice is firm and her logic sound, so my friends come give me hugs on their way out.

  “No! Don’t go,” I whine. “I’m not tired. I slept all night!”

  “We’re going to the neighborhood now. Call us when they let you out of here and we’ll come pick you up.”

  Taryn reaches into her bag and pulls out my phone. “Here.”

  “Oh, look at that! Thank you.” I take it. “Oh, did you…”

  Laura whispers past Taryn’s arm, “Yes, we’ve got your purse and we’re going to the Bahamas with all that money.”

  Taryn wiggles her hips in a sexy circle. “We’ve got mucho diñero, cabana boys, come to momma!” She looks at Maria. “You wanna come? Bonus points if you speak the language.”

  Maria rolls her eyes, leaving to go to the lab. “I wish.”

  They vanish out the door with waving hands trailed behind them. But Taryn pokes her head back in the room, the long strands of her brown hair bouncing and pretty against the ugly, bland wall. “Is Brendan still here?”

  I nod. “Yeah. He’s down the hall.”

  “Then why don’t you try and stay here as long as you can?” She winks and brings her hand in for a little finger-wave before she disappears.

  Staring at the closed door, I shake my head at myself. Why have I been trying to get sent home? I pick up the call-button and push it a couple times. The speaker turns on behind me and I recognize Maria’s voice. “Yes? Did you need something?”

  “Maria? I don’t think I should leave for a few days. I need to get some rest and I think the trauma has affected me more than I realized.”

  I stare at the silent speaker. After a perfectly timed pauses, she says dryly. “Nice try.” The speaker goes silent again.

  “Maria, seriously…”

  Silence.

  “Maria?”

  Silence.

  “Dammit,” I mutter, cutting my eyes to the IV needle in my arm. “What are you looking at?” The tube and needle are silent. They too, are not impressed. Sigh.

  Brendan

  Legs: under the hospital blanket, antsy.

  Tubes: sprawled out my arms. Wound: itching like hell.

  ________

  A male nurse walks into my room, answering my call on the intercom, in person. “You need something?”

  Great, a guy… he’ll get what I’m going through. “Hey. Yeah, man, I’m Brendan. Maybe you can help me. It’s a woman thing. Have you seen a tall, gorgeous brunette pacing around outside my room, or in the hallway somewhere? Maybe on her phone?”

  His brain searches for such a woman and the light changes in his eyes as he remembers. He snaps. “I think she left.”

  “Oh.”

  His eyebrows go up a notch, “Seemed pretty upset.”

  Exhaling, I shift in the bed, wondering how bad this situation really is. It can’t be good. Rebecca knows we’re not exclusive, but if I saw her on another guy, riding him while I was visiting her in the hospital… I would lose my fucking shit. I’d probably pummel the guy. That’s the thing about sleeping with someone for years, they create and deepen a bond no matter how casual you try to keep things.

  I don’t want to hurt Rebecca. I wasn’t thinking.

  Something about Annie makes my brain twist and forget other people exist. Even if they’re in the same room with us. Like it all just disappears – every person, every stress, every problem – gone. Every wound… healed.

  Frustrated, I ask him, “She was upset, huh?”

  He nods, his hands subconsciously rubbing together. “Yeah. Looked like it.”

  I jerk my chin in the direction of his hands. “You’ve got some ink there.”

  His eyes fall to the letters tattooed on each of his fingers. S.T.A.Y F.R.E.E. His thumbs are blank.

  “Yeah, I was in a gang when I was a kid. Changed my ways, though.” He says this like it’s something he’s said a million times. It’s almost robotic, but there’s a hint of something else behind it.

  “That’s cool.” I don’t say it, but I’m thinking it must have been something for the hospital to accept him doing this job with those fingers, and the wings on the back of one wrist, spreading out from the sleeve of a long-sleeved shirt he wears under blue scrubs. I bet those arms of his are covered, the angel wing poking out is probably just the beginning.

  He can tell I’m not judging him, so he offers, like he can read my mind, “The hospital does a lot of work with outreach and I did really well in the program.”

  “A.A?” I ask.

  He gives me a lopsided smile and shakes his head. “Nah. Nursing program, man. But I’m in Al-Anon, so that’s pretty funny.”

  “Ah. Wait. Is that the same thing?”

  “Nah. Al-Anon is for family and friends of Alcoholics. It’s a different program. But I wasn’t talking about that. I was talking about the nursing program.”

  “Right.” I nod, getting it. “Al-Anon. I didn’t know that existed.”

  He shrugs. “We don’t publicize. It’s just for people who want it. When you need it, you find it.” He opens the door to leave. “I’ll let you know if your lady friend comes back.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” As he leaves, I call out, before I even know I’ve made the decision to do what I’m about to do. “Oh, hey! Wait!”

  He opens the door wider.
“Yeah? You need some water?”

  My brows rise. “If you’ve got any scotch, that’d be good.” He grins. “I’ll take that as a no. I was gonna ask, what room is Annie O’Brien in?”

  His eyebrows cross up and he looks away to think about it. Then he glances sideways at me with a different, knowing look in his eyes as he’s putting two and two together. “You’ve got two girls fighting over you? Is that why Beverly Hills ran away with her face all like this?” He does his best impression of Rebecca and it is hilarious.

  Trying hard not to laugh at her, I say, “They’re not fighting over me, but there are two women, yes. So, can you check on what room Annie’s in?”

  With the hand that says, F.R.E.E. he jogs his thumb to the side. “She’s just up the hall.” Covering his mouth, he says on a laugh, as he realizes the full scope of the pile of shit I’m in. “Oh man. Your girl is just up the hall? That’s a God-shot right there.”

  I don’t bother to correct him that she’s not my girl, because… I don’t want to. Which is unsettling. “God-shot?”

  He turns so that his body holds the door open. He likes to talk with his hands and he needs them to tell me, “A God-shot is what we say in Al-Anon. It’s when a power greater than ourselves does something that shows us where we’re supposed to be going. And I don’t know you, man, but you’ve got one girl put right here and another running away… you should look at that.” His eyebrows go up and his hands fall to his sides as he pushes himself out of the room with his back and lets the door close on its own.

  “Wait!!” I yell through the door. I shove the blanket off me as he pops his head in and looks at me. “Can you help me out of this bed?”

  He grins and comes back in the room. “Now this is what I’m talkin’ about!” He unplugs me from the heart monitor, and wraps the IV cord around the pole like Annie’s had been. “You want some socks?”

  I shoot him a look. “Give me a fuckin’ break, would ya?”

  He laughs, his shoulders shaking with a likable child-like quality. “Sorry. Part of the job.”

  “Well, cut it out.”

  “Then I won’t offer you my help.” He stands back and throws his hands up like he’s letting loose the collar.