by Laura Iding
“Don’t touch me! Leave me alone! I can’t listen—Don’t touch me!”
A man stood in the center of the room, his eyes wild, his clothes disheveled, a three-day growth of beard covering his face. He grabbed at the hair on his head with one hand, while waving a butter knife clutched in the other. While the butter knife wasn’t sharp, it could still be used as a weapon and the few people in the waiting room were pressed against the back wall, giving the guy a wide berth.
“Easy, now,” Jadon said, waving a hand at the others to indicate everyone should stay back. He prayed Alyssa hadn’t followed him in. She was pregnant. He didn’t want her anywhere near this guy. “No one is going to touch you. I promise, no one is going to touch you.”
“I can’t. They won’t stop—I can’t listen. Don’t touch me.” The man was clearly in distress, and Jadon knew that if he didn’t help this man calm down, he might quickly turn violent.
And violence meant someone would get hurt.
Not Alyssa. Please, keep Alyssa safe from harm.
“No one is going to hurt you. You can relax now. I can help you. You’re safe here.” Jadon understood, only too well, that while this man seemed crazy, his wild actions were the result of a deep fear.
Fear of what, he wasn’t sure. Something the rest of them couldn’t see but that was very real to this man, nonetheless.
He continued to talk to the man holding the butter knife in a calm tone, reassuring him he was safe here. No matter how much he wanted to turn around and look for Alyssa, to make sure she was safe, Jadon didn’t break eye contact with the patient. And as he continued to talk him down, he hoped the hospital staff, including the security guards, were busy getting the other patients and their families out of the waiting room, just in case.
Psych crisis de-escalation techniques didn’t always work the way they were intended to. It paid to be prepared for anything.
“I’m here to help you. You’re safe here. My name is Jadon. What’s yours?”
“Mitch. Mitchell Park Conservatory. I’m Mitch, but I’m not crazy. I don’t have to listen.”
Jadon wasn’t sure if this guy’s name was really Mitch or not, as the Mitchell Park Conservatory was actually three horticultural domes that served as a local tourist attraction in Milwaukee, but he decided to go with it. “It’s nice to meet you, Mitch. You’re here in the safe zone where no one can hurt you. It’s my job to keep you safe. You’re not crazy. I think you’re scared. But you don’t have to be afraid. You’re safe with me.”
The more he repeated himself, and key phrases like You’re safe here with me, the better chance he had of convincing Mitch to calm down enough to let go of the butter knife. Jadon suspected Mitch was suffering from some form of schizophrenia, especially if he was really hearing voices in his head.
He wanted to hurry and get the guy some treatment, but rushing him would only make things worse, so he forced himself to take his time, to remain calm and to keep his gaze trained on Mitch, hyperaware of his every movement.
It took him nearly twenty minutes, but Mitch eventually gave up his knife and agreed to go into an examination room. Jadon steered him toward the opposite end of the emergency department where they could isolate him to a certain extent from the other patients.
“Nice job,” Alyssa said in a quiet voice, once he’d given Mitch a mild sedative, a similar dose, they’d discovered in going through his old records, to the one that he should have been taking at home.
“Thanks. I’m glad you stayed far away,” he admitted.
She frowned. “Of course. I’m not stupid.”
He winced. “I didn’t mean to say you were. I was just worried about you.”
Alyssa stared at him for a long moment and he wanted to pull her close and kiss her, but they didn’t have that kind of relationship. Not anymore. Finally she turned away and he heard her calling the psych crisis center for Mitch.
“See?” he heard Susan say to Maureen. “You thought we were kidding, didn’t you? I told you the crazies would be out. Mitch is a true nutcase.”
Her derogatory tone caused him to spin around, pinning her with a fierce glare. “He’s not crazy, he’s sick,” he said in a low, furious tone. “His illness isn’t any different from having diabetes or congestive heart failure. And I don’t want to hear you call him a nutcase again, do you understand?”
Susan’s eyes widened and she took a hasty step back, making him irritated all over again, especially when he realized Alyssa was staring at him with troubled concern. “Sure. I’m sorry, Dr. Reichert.”
Only slightly mollified, he turned away, continuing to see patients one after the other as the full moon kept its promise of keeping them busy.
Mitch had brought all Jadon’s old fears to the surface. He should stay far away from Alyssa, yet he couldn’t make himself. When he realized he was creating excuses to be near her, he knew Mitch wasn’t the crazy one.
He was.
Because it was crazy to want something he could never have.
CHAPTER FIVE
ALYSSA waited patiently until the respiratory therapist finished giving Mr. Waverly a breathing treatment for his pneumonia, then she placed the peripheral IV he required for his full course of antibiotics.
She couldn’t help wondering about Jadon while she worked. It was very unusual for him to snap at anyone the way he’d jumped on Susan. In fact, she’d never seen him as uptight as he’d been during this shift.
Although facing wild Mitch who’d been armed with a butter knife would put anyone on edge.
Had he always been somewhat protective of patients with emotional illnesses? She thought back to those first few weeks they’d worked together, but couldn’t really remember.
Ashamed, she realized she hadn’t taken the time to really understand Jadon. She’d settled for a physically intimate relationship, enjoying the sheer thrill of being with him. And working with him tonight brought the intense feelings of attraction back again. She was aware of him at every moment. It was hard to concentrate when he was near. Yet she also missed him when he was gone.
When he’d left, she’d been upset because she’d started falling for him, even though she’d told herself she wouldn’t, and then later because she’d discovered she was pregnant.
The latter was her fault—to a certain extent—as much as his.
A mere touch from Jadon while they were caring for their patients made her remember the hours they’d spent together making love. Yet there was so much about him she didn’t know. Who was Jadon, really? And what past experiences had molded him into the man he’d become?
Ironic that she knew as much about Jadon as she did about her long-absent father.
They’d become intimate, agreeing they weren’t looking for a long-term relationship, but here they were, about to be parents of twins. What a tangled mess.
She put her troubled thoughts aside, refusing to allow her personal life to interfere with her professional one. As the night wore on, Alyssa became more and more fatigued. There wasn’t much downtime during the night thanks to the full moon hanging over the hospital like a large, yellow-orange bad-luck charm.
She started Mr. Waverly’s antibiotics as Jadon had ordered for his pneumonia and stifled a yawn as she trudged slowly back to the main desk. Every room was full and she knew there would undoubtedly be additional patients assigned to her.
“Alyssa, take a break,” Jadon murmured in a low tone as he came up behind her. “Put your feet up and relax for a bit.”
Jadon’s concern was touching, but she shook her head. “There are still patients who’ve been waiting almost two hours to be seen. I’ll take a break once we’ve gotten caught up.” Which, at the rate they were going, might be never.
“Alyssa, please.” He put his hand on her arm, stopping her from walking away. “Maureen can cover for a bit.”
She looked at his strong hand and wished he’d cared as much about her before she’d become pregnant, and was now not just focused on t
he babies. She missed being held by him more than she’d realized.
“Soon,” she said, regretfully pulling away. She missed the warmth of his hand when it dropped to his side.
She only had to hang on a few more hours as the oncoming shift started at seven in the morning, yet she also knew that if there were still lots of patients she couldn’t just leave when her shift was up.
A trauma call came in at five forty-five in the morning, giving her a badly needed spurt of adrenaline. A young twenty-one-year-old man had fallen asleep at the wheel, crossed the center line and hit an oncoming car. The woman in the other vehicle was in her mid-forties, and had been having significant abdominal pain at the scene of the crash. The airbag had saved her from a serious head injury, thank heavens.
“Get a trauma surgeon down here,” Jadon ordered. He glanced at Alyssa. “I want to know her hematocrit and hemoglobin. I suspect she’s ruptured her spleen, bleeding into her belly.”
Alyssa nodded. She quickly finished her initial set of vitals and then proceeded to draw the labs he’d requested. She handed them to the runner and then turned back to her patient. The woman’s name was Elaine Sansone, and the way she moaned in pain on the gurney made Alyssa privately agree with Jadon’s assessment. Elanie’s abdomen was hard and painful to the touch.
“I need a CT scan of her belly stat. Where the heck is Trauma Surgery?”
“I’m here,” Leila Ross said, entering the trauma bay. She was a petite woman with exotic Oriental features and beautiful straight long black hair. “What do you have?”
Alyssa continued checking Elaine’s vital signs, not entirely surprised when her blood pressure dropped dramatically, confirming Jadon’s assessment of bleeding into her belly. “Blood pressure is down to ninety systolic. Do you want me to give more fluid?” she asked.
Jadon nodded. “Give a liter bolus of normal saline. Leila? What do you want to do?”
“A CT scan would help, but if her pressure is that low, I think it’s better if we simply take her up to the OR. I can explore her belly up there.”
“Alyssa?” Jadon glanced at her. “Get Elaine transferred up to the OR.”
“What about the other patient?” The young twenty-one-year-old, by the name of Curt Neilson, had suffered multiple fractures, especially in his forearms and his right leg. His injuries weren’t as critical, so she’d allowed Maureen to handle his care.
“I’m sending him for a slew of radiology films. The orthosurgeon is on his way in. There isn’t much more we can do other than manage his pain.”
Alyssa nodded and began to connect Elaine to the portable monitor so she could transport her to the OR. Leila jumped in to assist and between the two of them they wheeled Elaine up to the OR suites. When the OR nurse took over, Alyssa returned to the ED to help Maureen.
It took a while to get Curt’s X-rays but just as they finished and returned to the trauma bay, he lost his blood pressure, too. But on the monitor his heart rate still looked as if it was doing all right.
“Check his pulse,” Alyssa said sharply.
Maureen put her fingers on his carotid artery, her eyes wide. “I don’t feel anything.”
Alyssa muttered a curse under her breath and double-checked for herself, although she suspected he was in PEA. “Start CPR,” she told Maureen. Raising her voice, she called, “Jadon? We need your help over here.”
Jadon rushed over and immediately knew what was going on. “His last set of labs were fine, right?” he asked.
Alyssa nodded. “He does have cracked ribs. Do you think he has a tension pneumothorax?”
“Stop CPR.” Jadon picked up an eighteen-gauge needle and inserted it in Curt’s fourth and fifth intercostal space. Within moments his pulse returned.
Maureen’s eyes were wide. “Wow. It worked. It really worked.”
“Yes, it did,” Alyssa said in relief. A tension pneumothorax was life-threatening, yet also relatively simple to treat, once you had the correct diagnosis. A glance at the clock told her the day shift would be coming in soon. Thank heavens.
“I love this job,” Maureen said reverently.
Alyssa had to laugh. Normally, she loved it, too. Most of the time. She’d love it tonight if she weren’t so darned tired.
They waited a long time for Curt to be accepted as an ICU admission. Once she and Maureen wheeled him upstairs and handed over his care to the ICU team, they were pretty much free to go.
Alyssa punched out at the time clock, and then headed into the staff lounge for a few moments. Whoever had hung the Christmas decorations must have gotten interrupted halfway through. There was red garland strung along the ceiling, but an artificial tree stood in the corner, bare of any ornaments. If she had the energy she’d finish the decorations herself.
Her feet ached terribly, so she plopped in a chair and lifted them up on the table. The soreness in her legs eased and she leaned her head back with a sigh and closed her eyes. She longed to rest, for just a few minutes.
“Alyssa?”
She pried her eyes open, surprised to see Jadon. For a moment she was confused. Where was she? Then she remembered that she’d sat in the staff lounge for a few moments before heading home. “I’m awake,” she said, wincing a little as she set her feet back on the floor.
“You’re exhausted,” Jadon said mildly. “You’d better let me drive you home.”
“I’m fine,” she protested. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, it’s just the first time I’ve sat down in hours. And I’m more tired these days than usual.”
“I know.” Jadon’s grim gaze met hers. “You earned the right to rest, Alyssa. Heck, I was surprised to see you back at work tonight anyway. Please let me drive you home. It’s been snowing for the past hour. You don’t want to end up like Curt and Elaine, do you?”
He was right, she was exhausted. But she didn’t live that far from the hospital. “They were on the highway,” she stubbornly reminded him. “They crashed at high speeds. Different situation altogether.”
“A crash is still a crash, regardless. And it doesn’t matter, because I’m not taking no for an answer,” Jadon said firmly. He bent to take her hand, helping her to her feet. “Come on. It’s no trouble. Much better to be safe than sorry.”
She gave in, knowing that arguing with Jadon was useless. He was as obstinate as a mule when he wanted to be. That was one area where they’d butted heads in the past—each of them liked having their own way. But for now she was too tired to argue anyway, so she reached for her coat, surprised when Jadon took it from her grasp and held it for her.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
Outside, snow fell from the sky in large, thick flakes. An inch of fresh snow covered the ground, and she knew the roads would be slippery.
Much better choice to sit back and let Jadon drive.
“In you go,” he said, opening the passenger door of his car and helping her in. Her stomach tended to get in the way, so she backed into the seat and then swung her legs around.
Jadon tucked her in, closed the door behind her and then slid into the driver’s seat. He started the car and then went back out to brush the snow away from the windows.
Shivering a little, Alyssa huddled in her coat, remembering how cold she’d been the afternoon she’d fallen into Lake Michigan. At times like this the cold seemed to seep into her bones, making her wonder if she’d ever be warm again.
She’d always been warm in Jadon’s arms, she thought with a sigh, putting her head back and closing her eyes.
Somewhere along the route home she fell asleep. When Jadon gently shook her, she lifted her heavy eyelids, blinking against the bright snow. “Where are we?”
“My house. Don’t argue. Two cars were sitting sideways in the road leading to your apartment complex because the hill was too slick for them to make it up, so I came here instead.”
She let out a heavy breath. “I don’t want to argue, but I hate to cause trouble,” she said weakly.
He sent her a narro
w glare. “Don’t be silly. You’re no trouble, Alyssa. At least here I can keep an eye on you.”
An eye on her for what? Because she needed a caretaker? At least before they’d been equal partners in their intimacy. Now he was treating her more like a responsibility.
She didn’t like it. She wanted to mean more.
“Wait for me. The driveway is very icy.”
Since she couldn’t lever herself out of the car without help anyway, she waited. Jadon tugged her out of the car, and then wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting her as they gingerly made their way across the slick, snowy sidewalk up to the house.
This close to him, his familiar musky scent filled her head, bringing back memories of the nights they’d spent together. Did he think about those times at all?
She glanced up at him as he unlocked the door, irrationally wishing she could force him to remember. Large, fluffy snowflakes covered his dark hair, clinging to his eyelashes. For a moment their gazes locked and she could tell their closeness affected him, too. But then he stepped back, helping to take her coat off as if she couldn’t perform the simple task herself. And suddenly she wanted to prove she wasn’t weak or helpless.
“Jadon.” He froze when she placed a hand on the middle of his chest. His eyes darkened and his heart beat erratically beneath her fingertips and she knew she finally had his full attention. Keeping her gaze locked on his, she gripped his shirt, lifted herself up on her toes and pressed her mouth against his.
Stunned, Jadon couldn’t move, absorbing the heady taste of her kiss. The intense heat that simmered beneath the surface didn’t take long to ignite and within moments he’d clutched her close, her round belly pressed intimately against him as he deepened the kiss.
She tasted so sweet, he couldn’t get enough. How long had it been since he’d touched her? Held her? It seemed like forever.
“Jadon,” she whispered on a moan, and suddenly he realized what he was doing. This couldn’t happen. He broke off the kiss, breathing heavily.
