I have in my purse the form Dr. Mayhall filled out. The form that is denying Marco’s returning to the track until further notice. I don’t know how to tell him and I find myself wondering if I should have requested the doctor be here to help deliver the news. He’s looking at me with a strange expression on his face. He knows something is wrong, that I’m hiding something. Finally I do it the hard way. Well, for him. I know I’m supposed to deliver the bad news with a loving embrace and help him deal with the news but I just can’t. Instead I pull the paper out of my purse and thrust it at Marco.
With a confused look on his face he takes it out of my hands, spreads it out on his lap and then reads it. He scans it really. He knows what it is. He looks at the top, scans to the bottom, then wads it up and throws it across the room. His face explodes with unbridled fury.
“What the fuck was that? Has everybody just got their heads up their asses? Why aren’t you saying anything?” he rages at me, then with the sweep of his arm everything on the bedside table goes flying across the room.
“I’m so sorry Marco. I can’t believe it either.” I say lamely.
Marco suddenly sits up. He’s still got an IV in his right arm. He yanks the needle out, grabs the VI stand, bag and all and throws it like a spear clear across the room where it goes through the thick shades and shatters the window with a deafening crash. Marco is like a wild man, and I’m terrified. I back away in the corner as a petite female nurse runs in the room, takes one look at Marco and runs back out calling for security. A rather large male doctor appears, flanked by two male nurses. Still no security guards. Marco is on his feet in an instant as the doctor moves in on him brandishing a syringe.
“Now Mr. Panata, you need to calm down and return to your bed. I’ve got something here that will make you feel a lot better than you do now.”
His voice is calm, but there’s no denying the authority it carries. Marco looks at him, looks at the bed, but still remains standing beside it.
The doctor raises his voice a little louder. “Marco, look at your friend there.” He points to me cowering in the corner. “Look at how you’re terrifying her. Do you really want to do that to her? It’s not her fault what’s happening. She was doing her best to give you the bad news herself so you wouldn’t have to hear it from a complete stranger.”
By now there are three security guards in the room along with the huge doctor and the two male nurses. The lead guard has some kind of stun gun that he’s pointing at Marco.
“See that guard there? He’s very good aim with that thing. Do you really want to feel 50,000 volts running through your body? You have to the count of five, Marco.”
Marco edges away from the bed and closer to an empty IV pole. I’m sure they’re wondering the same thing I am. Is he going to actually grab that thing and use it?
“Three...” Says the security guard. “Four..”
He fires on four. This little dart with wires attached shoots out and sticks Marco in the chest. His whole body arches backwards as the electricity courses through his system. He’s frozen in that position for just a second, then he collapses like a limp rag doll on the ground. Immediately the big doctor and the two guards rush the stunned race car driver and fall on him. Marco is beyond any resistance at this point. They pick him up and dump him unceremoniously on his bed where they proceed to handcuff one hand to each rail. Then one guard produces a set of padded straps and secures his legs and chest. Finally they strap his head down and then his arms. Once the padded straps are in place they remove the metal cuffs for his safety. The doctor then gives Marco the shot and in two seconds he’s out like a light.
One of the male nurses helps me to my feet. “Would you like something to relax you ma’am?” he asks.
“Uh...I don’t want to end up like that.” I say pointing to Marco’s sleeping form.
“Oh, nothing like that. But I can offer you a valium if you like. You’ve been through a lot. We can bring a comfortable chair or you can relax in the lounge. How about it?”
Someone must have called Rachael because she shows up in the doorway. She runs over to me and gives me a long hug.
“Are you hurt?” she asks, stepping back to get a good look at me.
“No I’m okay, but look what they did to Marco.”
She looks at him, then surveys the room once more. “Looks like he needed it.”
“Now about that sedative?” the big doctor asks again.
“What are they offering you?” Rachael asks.
“Valium.”
“I think you should take it. You’ve been in a war it looks like. You need it girl.”
I look at the doctor for a minute the make my decision. “Yeah, I could use one.”
The doctor nods and one of the nurses goes out to get it. A few minutes later he comes in with a cup of water and two little blue pills.
“You can have one or two. Your choice.”
It’s been a crazy long ass day. I grab them both and without further thought gulp them down and chase them with water. I turn to my best friend.
“You think you—”
“Of course I’ll take you home,” she says, reading my mind.
I want to get home and away from everybody else before the drugs start making me get all loopy. I walk over to Marco. He looks at peace finally. The wrinkles are gone and he’s totally relaxed. It’s hard to believe what just happened when I look at him just now. I lean over and kiss him on his forehead. “Sleep well Marco…sweet dreams.”
Chapter Eleven
Good News?
“The harder you work the luckier you become…” Roger Penske
Carrie
The next day...
It’s almost noon when I finally get up the nerve to go visit Marco again. I don’t know what kind of a reception I’m going to get, but probably a cool one. With great trepidation I knock on his door.
“Come in.”
I open the door and slowly walk in. The first thing I notice is that his restraints are off and just lying on the table next to his bed.
“Did you take those off yourself?” I ask, pointing to them.
“And hello to you too Sunshine,” he replies. “No, I did not take them off.”
The other thing I notice is that he’s oddly cheery considering the news he got yesterday. Makes me think he’s working an angle here. I’d better be on my guard.
“Look, I’m really sorry for yesterday. Learning that I may have a career ending seizure disorder was a lot to handle and I handled it badly. I’m so sorry Carrie. I’ve already got another doctor lined up for a second opinion. Well see if the good Doctor Mayhall is all that he’s cracked up to be.”
“Well that’s great!” I say enthusiastically.
“Yeah I think I’ll go to my new doctor’s office. He’s more than qualified I’m sure. I don’t have to spend all day in another hospital. He’ll see me in his office and I’m sure he’ll get to the bottom of this and I’ll get my walking papers so to speak and I won’t miss a single race.”
“You know that the doctor who benched you gets a say in this right?”
“Yeah but he doesn’t get the final say,” Marco replies. “Look, I’m not stupid. I can tell you’re still worried about me and that’s sweet, but don’t make it annoying. I promise, I won’t race until I get a proper release signed. You have my word.”
I look at him for a minute. He does seem sincere and I really believe he means this. Not many drivers can pull a fast one on NASCAR officials and live to race another day, and I’m sure Marco knows this. He also knows what happened to my Danny, I know he doesn’t want to put me through something like that again. As we sit here talking about the last race and his bonehead move another doctor comes in. He’s quite the opposite of Dr. Mayhall who is tall, handsome, and quite friendly. This other doctor is short, a little rough around the edges, and speaks with a gruff, heavily accented voice. He walks over to the computer in the room and begins to type. As he does, he introduces himself.
“I’m Dr. Nguyen. You must be Carrie, one of Team Panata’s trauma nurses, yes?”
“I thought my doctor was Dr. Mayhall,” Marco says, eying the new doctor suspiciously.
“That was your radiologist. I’m your neurologist and I’m ultimately the one who can release you to return to racing. I understand you’ll be getting a second opinion?”
“No offense, but I can’t let my whole future rest on one man’s opinion. A lot rides on this as you know.”
“Of course, Mr. Panata, and I can’t let one race car driver put a smudge on my otherwise sterling reputation by letting an unfit driver return to the track. Ms. Zane, may I have a word with you in private?”
“Now wait just a second,” Marco protests.
“Of course, Doctor,” I reply.
I give Marco a stern look. “You want my support in this Marco?”
“Of course I do.”
“Good, then you won’t mind me talking to your doctor privately.”
“Of course not,” he replies meekly.
I turn towards Dr. Nguyen. “After you.”
He holds the door open and we walk out into the hall. He leads me halfway down the hall to a small dimly lit chapel; it’s empty. He gestures for me to take a seat, then sits down himself.
“So what was so important that it couldn’t be said in front of Marco?” I ask.
“When a patient of mine requests a second opinion then dictates the terms of that opinion it raises a giant waving red flag. Haven’t you asked yourself why he enlists the aid of a small town doctor without the resources to do an adequate neurological exam? A doctor who doesn’t even have access to a CT scan?”
“I really haven’t given it a second thought doctor.”
“Really? You’re just going to try to feed me a line of bull crap and expect me to just swallow it up?”
Marco’s obviously not the first race car driver he has worked on, and probably more than one of them has tried to pull the wool over his eyes too. From the sound of it, he takes it as a personal affront.
“You’re right doctor, and I’m sorry. Something doesn’t feel right here and that’s the reason why I insisted that I meet with you privately.”
“You’re a smart woman, Carrie. Just don’t use that brain of yours to help your boyfriend there beat the system. You do know how this works right?”
“Refresh my memory please.”
“Marco is partially right. He can get a second opinion and I cannot stop him from getting behind the wheel again once he has a second or third doctor who is willing to release him. However, my name and my observations and opinion must be on his final documents so that any doctor who sees him after me gets to read my report. Now they can choose to ignore it if they like. I can’t control that, but at least I can make sure that my report gets read and considered. So if Marco winds up with medical release documents in his hands that do not have my report with them, then they’re bogus.”
“Understood.”
“The system is set up like this to keep unfit drivers from getting around the system and returning to the track when they have no business racing. I believe you’re an honest woman, Ms. Zane, so I wanted to make sure you knew how the system works so you can make sure Mr. Panata follows protocol. Do you have any questions for me?”
I’m afraid to ask, but I have to. “Doctor...how bad does it look for Marco?”
“Hard to say...The fact that he has been racing for the better part of his life without this ever coming up is a good thing. Honestly...I think he has a pretty good chance of returning to the track as long as he follows protocol. That’s usually the problem for drivers though. They don’t have the patience or enough trust in the system to let it work for them. Instead they try to get around it, like I suspect Marco there is thinking of doing, and problems arise. More than one driver has tried to beat the system and gotten caught.”
“And if you’re caught?” I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.
“Depends...Every situation is evaluated on its own. Penalties could range from being banned for a few races, even a whole season, or a lifetime ban. Considering the current climate in just about all sports and the increased focus on safety, penalties are becoming stiffer. Don’t let him do it Carrie, it’s just not worth it.”
“I won’t Dr. Nguyen, you have my word.”
“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. Now why don’t you go back in and encourage him to do the right thing. Once there’s a paper trail of improprieties you can’t go back.” He stands up and pulls a business card out of his jacket pocket. “ If you have any questions please call me.”
I pocket his card, shake his hand and return back to Marco who is once more reclining on the bed watching ESPN.
“So what did the gruffly doc have to say that couldn’t be said in front of me?” He asks without taking his eyes off the TV.
“He just wanted to make sure I knew how the system works.” I reply cautiously.
“How it works?” he asks suspiciously. “He couldn’t tell you that in front of me? What did he really talk to you about Carrie?”
I walk over to the bed and sit down beside him. One look at his handsome, very worried face and my heart just melts. I have never before fallen so completely under a man’s spell than I have with Marco. I mean I really thought I was in love with Danny, and maybe I was, I don’t know really. But Marco, if this isn’t the real thing, then I’m really confused. When I’m with him I try to resist the way he makes me feel, but I can’t. I can repeatedly protest in my mind how I feel, but my emotions just overtake me and I’m helpless before them.
Intellectually, I know that racing is Marco’s world. The question is, can I be with a man who will always put racing ahead of me? His every decision is weighed against auto racing. How will that affect his points standings, how will it affect his ability to drive? If he does this will it be bad for his career or good. I’m sure right now he’s analyzing our relationship and weighing it against racing and deciding if I will be good for his career or bad for it. Can I spend my life with a man like that? Can I resist the man who thinks this way?
Even though racing is the most important thing, when we’re together he makes me feel like racing cars in the farthest thing from his heart and mind. I know that’s not really the case. One more time I have to ask myself, can I spend the rest of my life being second? My feelings, my body and soul just respond to his signals to whatever it is that he’s putting out there. Even if I wanted to I can’t resist Marco Adriano Panata. So when I look into his eyes and remember the promise I made to his doctor not fifteen minutes ago I know I will do everything in my power to put Marco back behind that wheel again; and I wonder, have I just sold my soul to the devil or have I given it willingly to an angel?
Chapter Twelve
Speed Demon
“Racing makes heroin addiction look like a vague wish for something salty…” Peter Egan
Marco
Marco Meets with Crew Chief Alanzo at the Track Hospital…
“Alanzo, I need a favor.”
“What can I do for you, Marco?”
“We’re going to need a different doctor.”
“What do you mean? I got you the perfect guy. He’ll look the other way and do whatever we ask. He’s the perfect choice man. Why do we have to go looking for someone else?”
“My new neurologist is onto us. He cornered Carrie and he basically knows we’re trying to pull one over on him. You know anyone else? What about the guy who cleared that Franchetti guy to race a couple years ago. Doctor...shit I forgot his name.”
“Let me do some checking. I don’t even know if he’s still around or even licensed with all the blowback from when Danny died. He may have lost his license...hell, he may even be in jail for all we know.”
“Well, find him if you can.”
“Alright. I’ll call you back when I find out anything.”
Damn that fucking Dr. Nguyen! He’s gonna fuck it all up. I am not giv
ing up my racing career just because some asshole sees a dark spot on an x-ray and decides I have a seizure disorder. I haven’t had a single solitary seizure in my entire life.
My cell phone rings, it’s Alanzo.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“You’re in luck, but it’s gonna cost you. That doctor, the one who cleared Carrie’s ex, well he still practices. His name is Doctor Hansen. He’s got an office with another doctor, Miller I think. Anyway, they both signed off on Franchetti and for the right price they’ll sign off on your release as well.”
“So what’s it gonna cost me?”
“50 large.”
“What the fuck? You’re not talking thousands are you? You can’t mean 50 thousand?”
“Sorry Marco, but that’s exactly what I mean. That’s their price and I suggest you pay it, otherwise you’ll never race again. I faxed them a copy of your neurologists report along with the one from the radiologist. These guys are your only hope. Without them you’ll never race again.”
“Shit. You know we have to keep this on the down low. Carrie is already suspicious of me. She thinks I’m going to pull a fast one so I can race again and if she finds out I lose her and my career.”
“Got it. Can you come up with the money?” Alanzo asks.
“I assume they’ll want cash?”
“Of course.”
“Alright, give me a couple days. I can borrow from my retirement account. I’ll need to liquidate the stock first then I’ll pull out the cash. I’ll give you a call soon as I have it.”
“Alright Marco. Get it as soon as you can. The more time that passes the more suspicious it will look when we suddenly have your medical release just before a big race.”
“No problem. Now I’m going to get some rest before Carrie comes by. Talk to you later.”
I glance over at the clock. I have an hour. That’ll have to do. It feels like I’ve only just closed my eyes when a familiar voice startles me.
Fuel To The Fire (New Adult Contemporary Romance) Page 8
