by Urban, Ami
At that, Dr. Clark let out a throaty guffaw, followed by a cough laden with phlegm. “Who’s going to stop me?”
“I am.”
He sighed again. “Look, lady, I’ve got a job to do here. Same as you. Same as everybody. I was told there was a fresh body. I was told there were organs. I was also told to remove said organs.” He took the clipboard from under his arm and gestured at the paper attached to it. “Now leave me alone so I can get to work.”
“Make me.”
Another roll of his eyes. He stepped back to pick up the phone hanging on one clean wall. I went back to stroking my husband’s hair. He looked at peace. No one was going to mess with that.
“Yeah, I need Dr. B. Now. Reynolds isn’t letting me do my fuckin’ job.” Dr. Clark slammed the phone down. “Now you get removed by force, so I can perform all these fuckin’ autopsies.”
I met his dark gaze. He looked mad, but I was madder. He wasn’t going to cut my husband open. The only one that was going to do that was me. And I would’ve told him so if Brendon hadn’t busted through the door the moment I opened my mouth.
His hair and eyes looked wild. But when they settled on me, something changed. I couldn’t tell what. He glanced at Dr. Clark.
“Get her out of here.”
Brendon nodded. “Sorry.” He came to me, one arm outstretched. “Come on, Lisa. We have to go now.”
I was ready for a fight. Not wanting to go down easy, I squared my shoulders and looked Brendon directly in the eyes.
But I couldn’t speak. Everything drained out of me when I saw the pained look on his face. There was periorbital swelling under his eyes. Perhaps he’d been crying. In that moment, I stopped feeling sorry for me and felt sorry for him.
“We gotta go.”
I allowed him to grip my upper arm to pull me from the room. As the doors closed behind us, I willed my vocal chords to call out to Jack once more, but nothing came out.
The hallway seemed oddly bustling. Nurses and doctors hurried toward the front of the building. Perhaps there was an emergency incoming. I just wished they’d all calm down and mourn the loss of Jack as I did. What was wrong with them?
Brendon didn’t let go of me until he’d placed me in the front seat of his car. We hadn’t said a single word since he’d dragged me out of the morgue. Once he settled himself in the driver’s seat, we sat in silence. Seconds stretched out into minutes before either of us spoke.
“What do I tell the kids?” The words didn’t sound like mine. But Brendon’s mouth wasn’t moving, so they must’ve been.
He turned to me, his eyes glistening in the dim light of the evening. “Let’s not think about that now.” He started the car.
Thankfully, it was late when we arrived at Huntington House. Most were asleep by then. A few were playing cards in the parlor when we walked in. They glanced up, said their hellos and continued playing. Everyone’s lives were so mundane. Here they sat, thinking all was right with the world. They didn’t even know Jack was dead. They had no idea he was being cut open and mutilated as they sat there playing a stupid card game.
We were lucky enough to ascend an empty staircase. At the end of the hall, I noticed Raychel emerging from her room, quietly shutting the door behind her. Brendon quickened his pace. Raychel noticed us, plastered on a lazy smile and began to approach.
“I’ll take this. Meet you in your room in ten.” Brendon tried to release me to the door opposite us, but too many people had been stealing my moments. And as Jack’s wife, it was my duty to tell his sister what’d happened.
She didn’t even hesitate after she saw my face. Worry creased into her own. “What happened?”
***
“You told me you’d take care of him.” Raychel kept saying the same sentence over and over into her husband’s chest between torrents of tears. She had every right to blame me for her brother’s death. It was my fault, after all. I should just do everything myself if I want it done right.
“I’m sorry.” It was all my brain would allow me to say. Brendon hadn’t left my side the whole time. His hand hovered near the small of my back as if waiting for me to collapse.
“You’re not sorry. You promised me.”
Gregg shushed his wife, smoothing her hair while they sat on an overstuffed sofa in what used to be mine and Jack’s room. The commotion of her wailing must have seeped into Lexi’s slumber as she slipped out of the adjoining room, her eyes closed halfway.
“What’s going on? What’s wrong with Aunt Raychel?” At her question, Jack’s sister began to cry harder.
Gregg, standing with her in his arms said, “I think we should call it a night.” They swept out of the room as Lexi shifted her weight from one socked foot to the other.
“Why don’t you come on over here, girl.” Brendon motioned for her to approach us. She did, her expression locked in neutral.
“What’s going on? You guys are starting to scare me.”
I motioned for her to have a seat on the sofa. She did. Hefting into the cushion beside her, I tried to choose my words. “Okay, Alex, Honey—”
She sat up, her eyes misting over. “What?” There were already tears in her voice. “What happened?”
I put a hand on her shoulder, almost as if I were trying to comfort myself too. “There was an accident at the hospital. Your Uncle Jack was given penicillin, and—”
“What?!” Tears began to splash down her cheeks. She already knew what was coming. “Tell me he’s okay, Aunt Lisa. Please.”
But I couldn’t. Because it would’ve been a lie. The blood vessels in my core constricted all at once, tugging me down into a spiral of despair. But I hid it. For her.
“I’m sorry, Honey. We couldn’t save him.”
“No…” Her words were quiet as she shook her head, the tears spilling down her cheeks to collect under her chin where they dripped onto the sofa cushions. “No.”
I pulled her into a hug as she began to heave exhaustive sobs into my blouse. The moment was about her. She needed a rock to make her feel safe. I had to be that rock now. It was all up to me. But I had doubts. Severe ones.
As if she’d read my mind, she pulled back, her cheeks wet. “Are you okay, Aunt Lisa?”
A canned response fell from my mouth. “I will be, Honey.” But I wasn’t sure. Lexi wasn’t either. I could see it in her face. She was worried about me. And I must have pretended well enough for her to accept it as she fell into a restless sleep about an hour later.
I sat down at my desk as Brendon carried her back to her own room. The last t-shirt Jack had worn was lying half on, half off the table in front of me. Without realizing it, I had picked it up and was holding it to my face. It smelled like him. That familiar, sweet smell of soap mixed with a hint of motor oil stuck me like a knife through my heart. I choked on a dry sob, but there were no tears. I supposed I was still in shock. The door to the room opened and closed again with a soft click. I felt Brendon’s presence there, but I was in my own world.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I asked, setting the shirt down.
“Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head, a lock of dark hair bounced down to tickle his forehead. “You just had a traumatic experience.” A small, sad smile danced briefly on his lips. “You’re allowed to relax.”
A random, white-hot rage burned in the pit of my stomach. I stood from the desk, approaching him and not knowing why. But on my way there, I realized he was right. My body needed to recuperate. All the anger inside me was extinguished by grief as I collapsed against the wall. All at once, I couldn’t control the tears. Before I could react, they were flowing down my cheeks in hot, salty torrents.
Brendon made a noise in the back of his throat then came to me. I was in his arms, crying into the chest of his blue scrubs. It felt nice to be comforted and held. And even though Brendon smelled of medical soap and laundry, I imagined it was Jack holding me.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I heard him whisper to me. When he s
poke that way, it reminded me of the many nights Jack and I would lie in bed, holding each other as if our lives depended on it. He’d whisper sweet things to me as I drifted off to sleep.
Brendon began to sing to me. It was a sweet melody. Again, imitating a crooner as my father had, his arms tightened around me. I was suddenly thirteen again. My father’s face smiled at me from the dark recesses of my memory. A warmth enveloped me. I could almost smell my mom’s pancakes. I could almost taste the maple syrup.
Wiping my tear-stained cheeks, I pulled away from Brendon, looking at him. He stopped singing at once when he saw my face. I’m not sure why.
When I shifted my weight, my back bumped the wall, sending a strange electrical current through my whole body. And then I did something very stupid – as I’m known to do in a crisis. I stood straight and kissed him.
And for a moment, he did nothing. I felt his body tense in what I assumed was surprise. But then I felt his hands on my hips. That’s when he began kissing me back.
His lips were soft. Different from Jack’s. Not better. Slightly odd. It distracted me, so I pulled away to look at him again. I felt as if we were reading each other’s minds. As though we were both wondering if this was right.
But we had no time to think about that because we both decided to continue kissing. He pulled me close to him, brushing his lips first against my forehead, then meeting my mouth once again. The kiss was no longer a soft and spontaneous one, but now hungry and passionate. He pushed me back gently toward the bed and I allowed it.
A moment later, he’d broken our kiss to remove his shirt, then kept going. My fingers fumbled with the buttons of my own, taking far longer than I’d wanted to come undone.
Brendon’s right hand left my hip, tracing a line along my spine. His soft touch was the same as Jack’s, leaving goose flesh in its wake. Then his hand was in my hair, cradling the back of my head as our kiss deepened. I liked that.
My hands instinctively went to his shoulders, exploring the muscles of his deltoids and trapezius. They were different than Jack’s. Smaller.
Brendon’s forearm pressed into my back, following the curve of my spine to bring me closer into his body. Jack didn’t ever do that. I didn’t like it.
And while I could feel the beginning of a very impressive erection pressing into my hip, his pelvic bones dug into mine. It was not an arousing feeling.
We both pulled away at the same time, staring at each other as if it was the first time we’d met. “This isn’t right.”
We’d both said it at the same time. He allowed himself a small smile. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how to speak.
“I love you, you know,” Brendon said after a few moments’ silence. “And that scares me.”
“Ditto.”
“Jack was my best friend.” He seemed to age ten years in that one second. The skin of his smooth cheeks sagged, his mouth downturned in a sad frown. “And you…” He gestured to no one in particular. “I can’t…lose you, too.”
I nodded my understanding as he stooped to pick up his shirt and I re-buttoned mine. Then, his face softened, the small wrinkles erasing themselves.
I pushed the hair out of my face and sighed, taking a seat on the bed. “I miss him already. If I don’t have him, what do I have?”
“Hey…” Brendon came to me, kneeling at the foot of the bed to meet my gaze. “I miss him, too. But, you are the most amazing doctor I’ve ever met. I need you. We need you. Remember that.” He kissed me once more, then stood. “You should get some sleep.”
I nodded, standing as he turned to leave. With one hand on the knob, he turned back. We stared at each other for a moment.
“See ya.”
“Yes.”
He was gone. And I was alone. As much as the thought had scared me hours earlier, it didn’t seem so daunting now. But perhaps that was because my brain was so clouded by exhaustion I could no longer think.
On autopilot, I went through my bedtime routine. I pulled my hair back into a middle ponytail and began brushing my teeth. But when it came time to put on pajamas, I was just too apathetic to even perform the simple action. As soon as my head met the pillow, I was flung into a harsh, fitful sleep.
Hours later, a shrill ring woke me. It was just as well. I’d been dreaming about Jack. It started out as a beautiful representation of our relationship. I could feel his touch and taste his mouth. But then it turned dark. Scott came out of nowhere and they tumbled into a dramatic fight, ending with the terrifying snap of my husband’s neck.
“Hello?” I answered the phone with a sleep-clogged voice. It was Brendon.
“I’m sorry for waking you up, but you need to come to the hospital. Now. Mina’s on a ledge.”
I pulled the phone from my ear. It was four in the morning. “I’m on my way.”
The halls were abuzz with activity. Nurses and doctors were racing toward the East wing while patients dodged them. Several were waiting at the nurse’s station, trying to ask for help. But no one was manning them. I felt fire burn in my stomach. Did things just automatically go to shit when I left?
I met Brendon at the front. “She’s in the East wing. Hasn’t done anything yet, so we think we can get her down. You ready?”
“Let’s go.” The two of us thundered down the halls. If Mina thought this was going to reverse the termination decision, she had another thing coming. She’d murdered a patient due to negligence. She wouldn’t work for another hospital or doctor’s office as long as I had anything to do with it.
“Dr. Reynolds!”
I stopped in my tracks. Brendon kept going. He disappeared around a corner as I turned to face Scott. The absolute last person I wanted to see. His eyes seemed wild. The whites were clearly visible when he spoke to me. “I really need your help.” His fingers closed around my forearm.
“Scott! Mina!”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, dragging me the opposite way. “This way’s faster!”
The amount of people running past us dwindled as we made our way to the West side of the hospital. We referred to the area as the old hospital. Mainly due to its dilapidated state. It was un-repairable.
My shoes squeaked on the linoleum. Several patient rooms stood open, empty and dark as we passed. Old broken equipment littered the halls like a technological graveyard. Under any other circumstances, I would have broken free and ran the opposite direction. But these halls were comfortable for many of the rescued patients. They were where we held our therapist sessions. The rooms weren’t being used in that moment as no therapy sessions were scheduled for the evenings. Nothing was out of the ordinary.
Until he brought me into the old ER.
The hallway was much like the previous; with broken items scattered everywhere. The tip of my shoe made contact with a Kelly clamp, sending it skittering across the floor. And when Scott turned to lock the door, I knew something was wrong. It was at that moment my palms became slick with sweat. Fear coiled into a tight ball inside my abdomen. But I steeled myself against it. I wasn’t about to let it show on my face.
“What are you doing, Scott?”
He turned to me, a smile plastered on his face. In his eyes, I saw malice. “It’s your turn now.”
I glanced over his shoulder at the door. “I don’t understand.”
Scott threw his head back and laughed. It was guttural and raspy, as if someone were balling up construction paper. Adrenaline pumped through my veins.
“What do you mean?” I kept my voice as steady as a locomotive. My brain continued the fight or flight response. The back of my neck began to sweat. I could feel it dripping down my spine. My heart rate increased. My lungs needed more oxygen, but I didn’t want to give away my fear.
“Now that we’ve taken care of your precious dear husband, we can move onto you.” He approached me.
I refused to budge. Training instincts kicked in. Keep him talking.
“I’m having a hard time understanding, Scott. Please elaborate.”
As he came closer, I began inching back. His smile disappeared, replaced by an ugly sneer. I ceased moving.
“Oh, I’ll elaborate!” Grabbing the collar of his over shirt, he ripped it open. The buttons popped off in random directions. A few of them making a clinking sound when hitting the floor. “Your piece of shit husband left me to die!” He gestured toward his left bicep where a row of faded pink scars arched across his skin.
I swallowed hard, trying not to let him see. “But you’re alive, now, Scott. Do you understand Jack’s motive?”
His blue eyes narrowed at me. “Oh, I understand. I just don’t give a fuck. And now that I’ve dealt with your precious Jack…”
My heart felt as though it’d leapt into my throat. Suddenly, I knew what he was talking about. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. The label on the vial. Scott and Harper dating. He was the reason she always needed to double check her drams. He was the reason she pumped Jack full of penicillin. And he was the reason she was now on a ledge, ready to end her life.
“Okay,” I began, trying to form a coherent sentence. “So, you’ve punished Jack and now you want to punish me.”
“Well, when you put it that way.” The grin returned.
“But…”
Keep him talking.
“Haven’t you punished me enough?”
He went quiet all at once. It was likely he could hear the pain and anger in my words. I didn’t hide them. He didn’t deserve my discretion anymore.
“You left me there, too.” Scott’s voice was so quiet I almost had to lean in to hear him. He’d adjusted his gaze to the floor and I continued to inch away.
“But you’re alright now, Scott.” I put on my ‘therapist voice’ as Lexi would have called it.
Another laugh escaped him. “Alright?” Blush creeped into his cheeks. His voice lowered. “I’m far from alright.”
I decided then was the time to run. I whirled around as quickly as my feet would allow. All I knew was I had to get out of there. And if I could get to the next set of doors before him, maybe I could get away. My shoes squeaked against the linoleum as my footsteps pounded in my ears. When I was within distance, I reached for the door, my fingers closing around the push bar. But before I could open it, Scott wrapped my hair around his hand once and yanked. The gases trapped between the cushions of my C4 and C5 vertebra released, causing a loud pop as I struggled against him.
