by Lynne Silver
He was strong, so strong, and she gasped for air. She opened her mouth to call for help, but no sound came out. Blinding terror swamped her. Her limbs and muscles went stiff with panic.
No. She couldn’t succumb. Wouldn’t succumb. She wasn’t going to die here, but her body, suffering from lack of oxygen didn’t believe her. It was like that time on the beach when a wave had sucked her under and for a few topsy-turvy seconds, she couldn’t find air to breathe, but this was ten times worse.
The man’s grip on her tightened, and something in the front of her neck gave way. Her legs went limp, her head lolled forward, making the pressure of the rubber old-school telephone-like cord worse. With a last burst of energy, she pushed the closest thing she could reach with all her might, hoping it would crash to the ground attracting the attention of someone, anyone who could help.
And then her world went black.
Drew threw back another shot and slammed the glass down on the bar. Tonight was a good night. Things with Olivia were going well. Strike that. They were going amazing. He’d never wanted to spend time with a girl the way he wanted to with Olivia. He liked the times they spent fully dressed talking and laughing together as much as he liked the naked times. Almost as much. Walking around Lincoln Road this afternoon had been awesome.
If he’d known a relationship could be this great, he would’ve done it a while ago. Then again, he hadn’t known Olivia. He suspected she was the one making things great. He wished she were here tonight, but no, she had to work.
“What’s got you smiling?” Carlos asked, strolling down to his side of the bar.
“Smiling’s my favorite,” he said sardonically.
Los grinned. “Did you Elf me? Damn, Olivia is a good influence.”
He grinned back.
“Another shot?”
He nodded. “Yeah, but that will have to be the last one. Got a call this afternoon. There’s a kidney match for my mom.”
“No shit? Congratulations.”
He and Carlos clapped hands. Drew ran his fingertip along the damp rim of the discarded shot glass. “It’s a swap though.”
Carlos frowned. “What does that mean?”
Before he could explain, Los raised a finger. “One sec.” He moved away to tend to a group of beautiful women who’d sidled up to the bar. “Yo, Amber. Get Drew his drink.”
Not for nothing did he and Ian run the best bar in Miami. His second bartender was in front of him within a second with an identical shot to the one he’d just thrown back.
“Thanks.” He held up the glass to toast Amber, but she gave him a scowl as usual and hurried back to the other side of the bar, almost as if she didn’t want to hang out with him. Shocker. He’d have to discuss her with Ian soon, because he didn’t want to put up with her shit much longer. Unfortunately, she was always on time to work and as friendly as she needed to be behind the bar. She kept bar totals weren’t up, which meant he had no reason to fire her.
The alcohol burned his throat, and he enjoyed it, knowing it’d be a while before he could drink again. Day after tomorrow, he and his mom were headed up to Baltimore to Johns Hopkins for him to donate a kidney and her to receive one.
He wished Olivia were here because he was fucking nervous over the surgery, but no, she was working tonight. His kidney was a major organ, and it seemed like God had intended for him to have two of them. True, all the literature and medical research said he’d live a perfectly normal life with only one kidney, but it didn’t stop him from worrying.
He could be in a car wreck or get stabbed and have trauma to his remaining kidney. He wanted back-up organs, but if the procedure could save his mother’s life, what the hell else could he do?
Drew swiveled on his bar stool to watch his club. Ian and Cat were taking a night off, and he was in charge. He’d be taking nearly a week off after the surgery, so they’d agreed to take time off now while they could.
All was looking normal. The tables were full of couples and groups of friends. Drinks and plates of food littered the tables, and it looked as if the party was in full swing. The headlining DJ started in an hour, and they were testing out a new guy right now. He was pretty decent, but his selections weren’t getting butts on the floor. Sometimes all it took was one brave soul to kick things off.
Cat and Ian were usually the go-to couple in getting people willing to join them on the floor. In their absence, it’d be him. Getting on the dance floor themselves was a holdover from the days when they were party promoters in other people’s clubs. It still worked like a charm. No one wanted to be first on the floor, so they took one for the team and did it. He didn’t really want to dance with anyone but Olivia, but it was his job.
Tonight, there were a few people moving their groove below the raised DJ dais, but he wanted the floor so packed the waitresses were spilling drinks as they pushed through a wild crowd.
“Wanna dance?”
Drew blinked at the woman who’d walked up to him and asked him to dance. She was nearly his height with a killer body. Her tits practically touched her chin, and her miniscule tank top material revealed more than it showed. Like the fact that the woman wore no bra.
Man, he was pussy-whipped for Olivia when the sight of this goddess had him appreciating the view, with no interest in touching. Then again, if he hit the dance floor with her, people would follow.
“All right,” he said and rose off the stool. For a second, the room spun around him and he grasped the woman’s arm to steady himself, but pulled off managing to make it look as though he were escorting her.
The lights of the club suddenly seemed brighter, and the music more incredible.
“Your skin is soft,” he shouted to the woman. He stroked the inside of her elbow again. A voice in his brain told him he needed to stop touching her skin, but he couldn’t seem to make his fingertips stop rubbing up and down. He needed the tactile stimulation.
They reached the dance floor and he discovered she was as good a dancer as she was beautiful. Drew had always been a fine dancer, but tonight he was moving with inspiration. It was like the music was communing with his soul and taking over his body.
Things turned into a hazy dream from there. Dimly he felt the party intensify as the party got wilder, the music louder, and the dance floor more crowded. His dance partner slung her arms over his shoulders inviting him to grasp her hips and they moved their bodies to the beat.
He drew her body closer against his until her breasts brushed his chest and his thigh propped up her body between her legs. “What’s your name?” he shouted to his dance partner. “I’m Drew.” His tongue felt thick in his mouth, as if he’d stuffed it with cotton balls.
“Cassandra,” she shouted back.
“Cassandra,” he said. And repeated it. “Ca-san-dra.” That was fun. He said it again. Then the bass line intensified and he started jumping. His head would touch the ceiling. Maybe he’d fly to the moon. No he was going to stay here and dance forever.
He woke up alone in his office. His bare belly rubbed the rough dirty carpet under him. He was shirtless and his mouth tasted like he’d been chewing on said carpet for hours.
Drew blinked and tried to sit up. His head felt like the desk had collapsed on his skull at some point during the night. “What the fuck?” he muttered. The moment he was upright, his stomach revolted and he lurched for the trash can, mostly making it.
“Nice,” a voice behind him said.
He pulled his face out of the black plastic bin and turned.
Ian stood in the doorway, Cat behind him.
“What’re you doing here?” he asked.
Ian stepped over to him, holding out his hand. “Hi, I’m Ian, your co-owner.”
Drew slapped his hand away, wishing he could get rid of his hangover as easily. “What happened last night?”
“Good question. We were hoping you could tell us,” Ian said. He went to sit in his desk chair and Cat propped herself on his desk, feet dangling a foot from the
floor. “You never turned on the alarm last night. Then you didn’t answer your phone.”
Drew tried to collect his thoughts and rummage through his pants pocket for his phone. There was no sign of his shirt anywhere. He climbed slowly to his feet and went to the small office closet to grab one of the OCXA T-shirts they kept on hand. Throwing it over his head and pushing arms through the sleeves, he went to collapse in his chair.
“Can you?” Cat pointed at the nasty trash can, and he winced.
“Yeah. Got it,” he muttered, and rose again, picking the can up by the lip and carrying it out of their office and tossing it out a back door into the trash bay behind the club. The bright sun nearly flattened him, and he hurriedly returned to the dim safety inside the empty club.
He went back to his office and told Ian and Cat everything he could about the previous night. It didn’t take long. “And that’s the last thing I remember,” he said, referring to him dancing with the gorgeous woman.
“Shit.” Ian glanced at Cat.
“Drew,” Cat said softly. “You can’t drink to oblivion. If Ian’s not here. You’re the one in charge.”
He ran both hands through his hair. “I didn’t fucking drink to the point of passing out,” he said loudly. “I had one shot. Maybe two?” The whole night was a blur. “Ask Carlos. He was on the bar last night.”
“We did,” Ian said. “He said you were a wild man. You did shots and then got the hottest girl in the place out on the dance floor where you were all over each other.”
“Why would I do that? I’m with Olivia. I lov…” He broke off before he revealed too much. “I have to go. I’m supposed to be packing for Baltimore. My mom needs me. Take care of the club.”
He strode out of his office and out to his truck, feeling like shit. He climbed into his truck, feeling the bite of his leather wallet on his ass. He lifted a hip to pull his wallet out, because it occurred to him that he was damn lucky to have his wallet at all after blacking out. A quick glance told him that his cash was gone. Credit cards and license were still in there.
He’d play it safe and cancel his credit card, but the absence of the green stuff didn’t mean shit. He rarely carried more than fifty on him anyway. Everywhere he went took credit cards, and the cash was only a precaution.
Next he checked his phone hoping there were photos or texts or anything on it to clue him into the events from last night. Nada. Not even a message from Olivia. He got his car into gear and dialed her number.
No answer, so he left a voicemail. “Hey, Livvy. Heading home. I assume you’re home sleeping.” He paused and swallowed. “Thought about you last night.” He was sure he had. “Good news. You have the next two weeks off, because a kidney came through. Mom and I are heading to Baltimore for surgery. Call me when you get this. I leave tomorrow morning first thing. I’d love to see you before I go.”
“Don’t try to talk,” someone warned as Olivia blinked and tried to get her bearings. She was in a hospital room. How did she get here and how long had she been here? Her gaze circled the room. Her mother, father, brother, and of all people, Javier stood around the bed, along with a doctor.
The African American doctor looked to be younger than she was. How long had he been out of medical school? Eight minutes?
“Hi, Olivia. I’m Doctor Fitch, a resident here,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
She pointed to her throat. It hurt like a bitch, and she couldn’t figure out why.
He chuckled. “Right. Sorry. Finger system. Ten is worst; one is ready to run a marathon.”
She thought about it for a second, then held up ten fingers.
Doctor Fitch looked thoughtful. “All right. To be expected when your trachea nearly collapsed.”
Now she remembered. The hospital, a long shift after a date with Drew, and then the crazy patient choking her with the otoscope cord. Her memory started coming back in fits and spurts. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in this bed. Given the stiffness in her muscles, it was at least a day. A wiggle of her legs also told her she was completely unhooked from any tubes, and now she had to pee.
She struggled to sit up, but nearly everyone jumped forward to push her back down. Urgently, she pointed a finger at the bathroom door.
“Everyone out,” her mother announced. “I’ll help her.”
“We’ll keep you a few more hours, to make sure everything’s functioning properly, and then we’ll get you out of here,” Doctor Fitch said. He left, followed by all the men in her life. All the men, except…Drew. And how or why would he be here? No one other than her brother knew he was an important part of her life, so no one would think to contact him. God, he must be frantic, having not heard from her in a long time. And she was missing work with Karen.
Everything was fuzzy, and her brain felt as if it were trying to think through layers of bubble wrap. “Phone,” she mouthed.
Her mother obviously couldn’t read lips.
She tried drawing the letters of a phone with her finger in midair and mimicking talking on a phone, but still no understanding. They should’ve been playing charades rather than crossword puzzles at her house.
The urgency to use the bathroom was too great to ignore, so she gave up asking about her phone and shuffled to the bathroom, leaning heavily on her mother.
Her mom refused to leave her alone in the room despite the emergency alarm pull next to the toilet. She got to do her business with her mother standing over her as if she were a toddler.
When she was safely back in bed, she tried again to ask questions, but her throat felt as if she’d swallowed a glass of volcanic lava and then a bucket of razor blades as a chaser. Her mother, seeing her dilemma, strode out to the nurses’ station for a note pad and pen. She returned with these supplies and the rest of her family, including Javier.
Olivia picked up the pen to write and then realized the only person she could ask about Drew safely was Gabriel, but how to get him alone?
At the hefty, weighted silence in the room, she realized she was focused on Drew when her parents, particularly her father, were terrified and angry. While she was worrying about Drew, or whether he knew where she was, she’d forgotten that her parents had had no idea she’d been working at the hospital.
Whoops. Cat meet open bag.
With unsteady fingers, she grasped the pen and started writing. “Lo siento.” She held up the pad directly in her father’s line of sight.
He read the words and then shook his head slowly. “We all failed each other, Livvy,” he said in Spanish. “You told us where you wanted to work, and we treated you like a child who didn’t know her own mind.”
Tears leaked out of her eyes and down her cheeks. In an instant, Javier was there, holding her hand and wiping her face with a tissue he’d plucked from the bedside table. He wasn’t Drew, but he was a good friend she’d known forever, and his comfort felt warm and necessary.
After the huge concession her father had made in not losing his mind over her lying to him about her job, she couldn’t ask about Drew. Later, she’d pull Gabriel aside and ask.
She spun her head to look his way, then cried at the pain that shot through her throat from the rapid movement.
Javier knelt down. “Be still, amor.”
She didn’t like being called love by him, but without her voice, and being low on energy, she didn’t bother to stop it. She was suddenly exhausted. Using the bathroom had wiped her out as if she’d done a triathlon. But she needed to get a message to Drew or he’d be terribly worried about where she was.
Summoning all her energy, she took up the pen in her hand again and wrote out that she needed to call or text Drew and Karen to let them know she wouldn’t be at work.
Her family gathered in tight around the bed to read her message. “You can barely keep your eyes open,” her mother said. “And I’m not sure where your phone is.”
“It’s over there,” her brother said. He stepped back and grabbed a large clear plastic bag that looked
familiar. It was what they gave to patients to hold their clothes and phones when they came in for surgery or other reasons.
She dug through the bag seeing her scrubs, sneakers, and purse. She’d have to thank one of her colleagues later for having the wherewithal to go grab her purse from her locker and send it on to her. Riffling through, she pulled her phone from her purse and it was totally dead. Obviously she’d been in the hospital more than a day.
“Dead,” Gabriel said, stating the obvious.
“I can charge it up,” Javier said. “I’ll tell your boss what happened.”
She smiled gratefully up at him, but his eyes were angry and his mouth a narrow line. She was too tired to contemplate why he looked angrier than usual, so she closed her eyes for what felt like a second. When she blinked them open again, the sun had set, her brother and Javier were gone, and her mother and father were dozing in two chairs a few feet from the bed.
Unthinkingly, she opened her mouth to call for her mom, but only a scratchy rasp emerged. The slight sound of her waking up had her mother springing into action. She ran out to the nurses’ station to let them know her daughter’s pain meds were wearing off and that she needed to be seen immediately.
Drew walked alongside his mom through the long terminal at Miami International Airport. He’d insisted they call for a wheelchair, but she’d refused. It meant they were crawling along at a snail’s pace to get to their gate to head to Baltimore.
He turned his phone screen up to his face for the thousandth time. His heart stopped, then pounded when he saw a new message from Olivia. He didn’t know what was going on with her, but she’d neither called nor texted since he’d kissed her goodbye after their date on Lincoln Road.
If he weren’t getting on a flight to Baltimore, he would’ve played Sherlock Holmes to get her address and drive to her house and confront her. He’d been to her home more than a year ago but didn’t remember the exact address.
