Eye of the Nightingale

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Eye of the Nightingale Page 2

by R. D. Hunter


  “Hey! Get the hell away from her!” Donald Lawson’s voice broke through our link and I took a step back. No need to poke the bear any more than I already had.

  Besides, I’d done all I could. It was up to Gloria now.

  “Miss Foster, you need to go,” Dr. Douchebag said, his voice rising an octave or two. “Rest assured, I’ll be reporting your actions to…”

  “Donnie.” Gloria spoke in little more than a whisper. Her words were slurred and she was obviously in an extraordinary amount of pain. But, by God, she spoke. “Donnie.”

  “I’m here, Baby,” her husband said, coming to her side. “I’m right here.”

  “It was Donnie.” She licked her split lips before continuing. “Donnie did this to me.”

  Time stopped. Her words hung in the air, then dropped like a stone. If I hadn’t been so tuned into the situation, I would’ve missed the subtle shift where Lawson’s disbelief mutated into violence.

  I flung myself backwards just in time, and the blow that was meant to pulverize my face caught my shoulder instead. Pain shot through my right arm and the impact was

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  enough to spin me around. My head cracked against the corner of the metal cabinets lining the wall and the world went grey for a second. Somehow, I managed to stay upright.

  Lawson took a step towards me, a deep rumble sounding in his throat. I’d never felt murder in anyone before. But the cold blooded rage radiating off this person made it clear what he intended to do. And damn the witnesses or consequences.

  Dr. Douchebag was in the corner, hands thrown up to protect himself from any blows that might come his way from our impending encounter. Lot of help he’d be.

  I fumbled behind me, searching for anything I could use to defend myself. My hands finally closed around one of the metal trays used to hold the medical implements. I gripped the edges and forced myself to wait until Lawson was close enough to.

  He reached for my throat with both hands. It was a control thing. Once he had power over my air way, he could make me do anything he wanted. I wasn’t about to give him that chance, so I did the last thing he expected; attack.

  I stepped inside his reach, kept my eye on the target, and brought the tray around with every bit of strength I possessed. There was a satisfying CLANG as the piece of surgical steel collided with the side of Lawson’s head. He staggered back but didn’t go down. I brought my weapon back around with a backhand and this time sent him crashing to one knee.

  He was disoriented. Bits of confusion and defiance flaked off him as his addled brain tried to piece itself back together. I probably could have stopped then. Help was on the way, no doubt alerted by all the commotion we‘d made.

  But this felt good. There was a hot fire burning in my gut and I wasn’t about to let

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  this piece of trash off easy. Gloria was sobbing quietly on the gurney, her wounds fresh and ugly. Her pain bubbled to the surface and it was enough to make me raise the tray once more and bring it down like an axe on the back of Lawson’s skull. I sensed a flicker of disbelief from him, then nothing as he slid into unconsciousness.

  I stood over him, making sure he wasn’t going to rise again and continue his attack. At least that’s what I told myself. The truth was I wanted to admire my handiwork. A thick trickle of blood flowed from the large gash I’d opened with that last blow. He was completely KO’d.

  Shouldn’t I be proud? I’d never been in a fight before. Wasn’t this the time for a victory celebration about my triumph over a stronger opponent?

  Maybe, but I didn’t feel like celebrating. All the fire and rage I’d felt during the heat of the moment faded and I was left with a cold and empty feeling.

  Dr. Douchebag sauntered over to where I was and let out a long sigh of relief.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I could sure go for that coffee right about now. How about it?”

  I didn’t need to ask if he was serious. I looked at the warped piece of metal still clutched in my shaking hand, then meaningfully back up at him. He got the message and scurried out, muttering something about seeing to other patients.

  Best thing to happen all day.

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  Chapter Three

  “Ow!” I winced as Ruth, the head nurse, applied a stinging antiseptic to the side of my head.

  “Sorry, Sweety,” she said. She really meant it. “You’re lucky. If that laceration had gone much deeper you’d need stitches.”

  I nodded. “Lucky. That’s me.”

  She gave me a sympathetic look. Ruth was the mother hen of the emergency room. She took care of all of us but had taken a special interest in me for some reason. I think it was because I had no immediate family so she designated herself as a surrogate mother. If it had to be anyone, I was glad it was her.

  A few seconds after the Douche walked out, she and a battalion of hospital staff stormed the room. They looked at Lawson, lying in a rapidly collecting pool of blood.

  Then they looked at me, still holding my impromptu weapon and shaking from head to toe. Finally, they looked at Gloria, now responsive and frantically sobbing on the bed.

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  That was all it took for them to call security to handcuff the monster until the police arrived.

  It didn’t take long. They’d processed the crime scene at the trailer and were already on their way to the hospital when Lawson and I threw down.

  There was a knock at the door and, sure enough, there stood one of the boys in blue. I’d been expecting them to get around to interviewing me. What I hadn’t expected was for my ex-boyfriend to be the one doing the interview.

  Michael Parker was one of the few serious relationships I’d had in my life. As you can imagine, dating doesn’t come easy for me. It’s hard to meet guys and give them a fair shot when you can sense every emotion and flight of fancy that crosses their mind.

  Michael was one of the good ones.

  We’d started dating my junior year of high school. He was a senior and we stayed together up through my graduation. Most people thought we’d end up getting married. I guess I did to. When he said he wanted to join the army and see the world, I even encouraged him. Told him it was a good thing. But secretly I was hurt and spent the better part of six months pining for him.

  He’d returned home six months ago after learning his father was ill. An aggressive form of cancer. He wasted no time in obtaining his law enforcement certification and getting hired on at the Glen Falls Police Department. It suited him. I’d seen him around town a few times but we’d never spoke. I tried to play it off, but part of me was hurt he’d never called.

  Seeing him now, this close, brought back all those old memories of teenage love.

  The days filled with hopes and the nights filled with dreams. I tried not to let it show.

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  “Ava?” he said in disbelief. “You’re the one who took down Donald Lawson?”

  I shrugged like it was nothing. “Yeah, well…to be fair, he started it.” I turned my head so he could get a clear look at the gash Ruth had just finished treating and was nearly knocked down by the hot surge of anger that rolled off him.

  I knew how Michael had been raised. I’d spent many a summer afternoon at his parent’s house when we were dating. They’d become like a second family. They raised their boy to always respect the woman he was with and to protect her no matter what. He couldn’t abide the thought of someone hitting a female and that it had happened to me seemed to throw extra fuel on the fire.

  “I’m okay,” I said, trying to diffuse the fire I felt growing in him. “It’s just a scratch.”

  He came over to get a closer look. The smell of his aftershave filled both nostrils, bringing with it a host of memories. Days spent exploring the world around us. Nights spent in each other’s arms, exploring the temptations of our bodies.

  He reached out
with one hand to gently brush away the hair from my wound. I couldn’t help but notice that military life had agreed with him. His uniform fit snugly, showing off an impressive collection of hard muscles underneath. His skin was a deep, rich tan. None of these things came from visiting a gym or a planned workout schedule.

  Michael worked outside on his parents land. His physique was due to hard physical labor and it suited him nicely.

  As his finger made gentle contact with my skin, the past five years seemed to roll back. We were two teenagers again, anticipating nothing more than the next time we could be alone together. The heat coming from him changed tones. It was no longer born

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  of a righteous anger. It was different. More intense. It penetrated deeper and was not entirely one sided.

  Forgotten in the corner, Ruth cleared her throat awkwardly. “I’ll…uh, I’ll just leave you two to it,” she said, gathering up her supplies. We both started and looked around guiltily, like two kids who‘d been caught making out behind the bleachers.

  Michael hastily began scribbling in his notebook and the flush in his cheeks brought forth one in my own.

  “Thanks, Ruth,” I said. She nodded, pretending not to notice my voice was a few octaves higher than normal. Sweet of her. Of course it didn’t stop her from throwing me a knowing wink over her shoulder as she walked out. I ducked my head to hide the foolish smile threatening to form.

  “So, Ava, can you tell me what happened in there?” Michael asked, back to business. “Some Barbie-like doctor is out there trying to spin a yarn about putting Lawson in a submission hold, but people are buying it like the buy cassette tapes nowadays. Care to shed some light?”

  I told him, in as much as I could tell anybody. I told him about how I got suspicious when Lawson showed up smelling as fresh as summer sunshine after getting home from work. How his grieving husband act didn’t seem sincere. All true. Then I fudged a little and said I noticed Gloria flinch when he laid his hand on hers. It wasn’t a total lie. I just neglected to mention it was an internal flinch, one not observable by most people.

  When I got to the part where I described Gloria’s injuries, he nodded grimly.

  “That’s pretty much what we expected. The scene at their trailer was a disaster. It looked

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  like a cyclone had blown through. Even the kid’s room was demolished.”

  I jumped to my feet in horror, causing a spike of pain to shoot through my head.

  “Oh my God! Their kids. They have two boys. Michael, we have to…”

  “Take it easy,” he said, taking me by the arm and sitting me back down. “Their boys are fine. They were spending the night with friends when it all happened.

  Arrangements have been made for them. Relax.”

  “Oh. Oh, thank goodness.” I let out a long sigh. My relief was cut short, however, by a sharp rap at the door. I looked up and into the glaring face of my instructor, Kay Harris.

  Throughout my academic career I’ve had the privilege of knowing some pretty wonderful teachers. Those bright souls who used encouragement and positive reinforcement to challenge a student so they get a glimmer of their true potential.

  Kay was not that kind of instructor. She ruled over her pupils while sitting on an iron throne wrought of failing grades and crushed dreams. It gave her no end of pleasure to belittle and chastise a student for the tiniest mistake, until their self-confidence was crushed and scattered to the breeze. They usually dropped out not too long after.

  Worse yet, Kay insisted on everything in her universe fitting into a nice, identifiable category. I think she knew, on some level, that I was different. And that made me an anomaly to be crushed and ground into atoms. Whatever the reason, she and I had butted heads repeatedly over the last three years. Only sheer stubbornness on my part had thus far kept me from becoming another drop out statistic.

  She eyed me with undisguised disdain, then did the same to Michael who merely nodded politely. His Momma wouldn’t tolerate him being rude to a woman, although I

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  sensed he disliked her immediately.

  “Miss Foster, I take it you’re feeling better?” she said.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said warily. I sensed I was being led into a trap and I didn’t like it.

  “Good. As soon as you’re medically cleared, you are to collect your things and vacate the premises. You are hereby expelled from this nursing program. Your academic record will be updated in the morning to reflect this.”

  My jaw went slack. “What?”

  “You heard me. You are no longer a student of this program.”

  “But…why?”

  Kay snorted in that superior way of hers. “I would think that was obvious. You accused a man of beating and raping his wife in this very emergency room.”

  “Because it was true!”

  “Irrelevant,” she snapped. “Your actions provoked him to attack, putting you, your patient and additional staff in serious danger. It was foolhardy and irresponsible.

  You’re lucky Dr. Tomlin was there to hold him off until hospital security arrived.”

  “Yeah. He was a big help,” I said dryly.

  “Ma’am, with all due respect, I think you’re over reacting a bit,” Michael put in.

  “Ava’s actions helped us to catch this guy in record time. Without her assistance, he very well could have gotten away with it and did it again.”

  I felt a rush of gratitude. It probably wouldn’t do much but it was nice to know I had an ally in all this.

  Kay turned to him, her glare fierce and intimidating. “I’m sorry, Officer,” she spat the title like it tasted foul, “but due to the differences in our profession I hardly think

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  you’re qualified to voice an opinion on this subject.”

  “And what about me?” a voice asked from the hallway. “Am I qualified?” We all turned to see a man wearing a pleasant smile, his hands shoved casually in the pockets of a dark, expensive suit. He seemed to be in his early thirties, with dark hair slicked back in an expensive style that I’d never be able to afford. In fact, his whole style screamed money. Money and power.

  Great. Who was this? The Governor?

  Before we could say anything, he walked into the room like he owned it, and a low thrumming sound began to fill my ears. It was like the bass from a suped up car stereo. I could feel it in my teeth. It took a second before I realized it was my empathic senses picking up this newcomer’s emotions. Nothing specific, just his overall emotional state.

  Wow! This guy could feel!

  There was a change in Kay too. Her bitter joy in expelling me was replaced with a sense of apprehension and (dare I say it) fear. Whoever he was, he was higher up on the food chain than she was. And that made him dangerous.

  “Dr. King,” she said, reverence echoing in her voice. “It’s a pleasure to see you. I want to formally apologize for what happened in your emergency room. Rest assured, measures are being taken to ensure nothing like it ever happens again.”

  I groaned inwardly. It wasn’t the Governor. It was way worse. Dr. Sebastian King was President, owner and founder of King Healthcare? A multi-billion dollar, international health care organization? In fact, I was currently standing in his hospital.

  “Well I certainly hope not,” he said. He smiled at each of us in turn. When he got

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  to me, the humming intensified a little. “And this must be the hero of the hour. I wanted to personally thank you for everything you did in there. It was very brave.”

  Wait. What? “I thought it was ‘foolhardy and irresponsible,’” I said in confusion.

  He actually chuckled and I felt Kay’s ire rise a bit. “Well, there might have been safer alternatives to confronting Mr. Lawson. But the end result is that he is no longer in any position to harm our patient ever again.”

&nbs
p; To say I was shocked would be an understatement. Sebastian King was a genius.

  He’d graduated from medical school at the age of 26 and had wasted no time in putting his talents in medicine and business to use by founding his own business. Less than a decade later, it was one of the leading health care organizations in the world.

  I glanced over at Michael and was surprised to feel a twinge of hostility coming from him. He didn’t like Dr. King. He saw him as a rival on some primitive “ME MAN!

  HEAR ME ROAR!” level. How cute.

  “Um, thank you very much, Sir,” I said.

  “However, I believe Mrs. Harris is correct in saying you cannot continue your clinical here at Glen Falls Hospital.”

  “She is?” My heart sank and Kay fairly glowed with pleasure at being told she was right. Then, as is my norm when faced with unfairness, I got mad. “So you just came in to say hello, thank me for being brave and standing up for our patient, but I still won’t be able to graduate?” I pointed my finger at him. “Well, let me tell you, that is messed up.

  ‘If I hadn’t done what I did, Donald Lawson would have gotten away with it free and clear and Gloria would still be lying in there as a vegetable. He might even have finished the job. And if you’ve been listening to the estimable Dr. Tomlin heroic tales, let

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  me be the first to inform you that he’s about as useless as tits on a boar hog and you’re dirt lucky you haven’t been hit with a sexual harassment suit on his behalf.”

  My face was flushed by the time I finished and I was breathing hard. Kay was backed against the far wall, mortified that I’d spoke like that to the head of King Healthcare, who was akin to a God in her book. Michael kept his face impassive during my outburst, but I could feel him rippling inside with satisfaction.

 

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