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Barrett, Julia Rachel - Anytime Darlin' (Siren Publishing Allure)

Page 5

by Anytime Darlin' (20010) (lit)


  Devlin had had enough of catheters. When she’d been hospitalized after the accident, before she was able to walk again, she’d harassed the nurses into getting an order from her doctor to remove the catheter. On occasion, when the nurses were busy with other patients, Devlin had to roll out of bed onto the floor and drag herself to the bathroom with her arms, but that was better than a catheter. Just the thought made her feel helpless and dependent, especially now. You couldn’t run away from someone with a catheter bag slung over your arm.

  “I’ll need to call Dr. Walters for an order, and it’s kind of early. He doesn’t usually do rounds until afternoon.”

  “Can you please, or can you just take it out and tell him I pulled it out? Because I really want it out right now. In fact,” Devlin added hopefully, “if you hand me your scissors, I can deflate the balloon, and then you don’t even have to be involved.”

  Amy looked Devlin over. “You know too much, little girl,” she said, rolling her eyes. “All right, I’ll tell him you threatened to remove it yourself, so I was forced to assist you. Anything else, princess?”

  Devlin laughed without thinking, though her laughter ended in a coughing fit. “Yes,” she was surprised to hear herself say when she finally stopped coughing, “I would love some French fries with lots of ketchup and a Coke!”

  * * * *

  Twenty minutes later, Devlin sat on a plastic stool in the shower, letting the hot water run over her aching body. When Amy had been nice enough to walk her into the bathroom, Devlin had taken advantage of her brief solitude to clamp off her IV line and detach herself from the pumps, tossing the two lines over the hooks and shutting the pumps off before the alarm mode kicked in. The trick was to depress the power button until the pump beeped once and the backlight switched off.

  When Amy checked on her, she said, “Your name isn’t Devlin. It’s Devil Child. Where did you learn how to do that? You are gonna get me in a world of trouble.”

  Devlin grinned at her and asked for some soap, shampoo, a toothbrush, and some toothpaste. And two gowns, the second to wear across her back so her rear end wasn’t open to air. Amy obliged her, then pulled in a plastic chair and sat down to supervise.

  “I do have other patients, you know,” she teased Devlin.

  Devlin merely sighed and inhaled as much steam as she could.

  “You don’t need to do this right now. I can give you a bed bath.”

  “It’s not the same,” replied Devlin with a cough, and then she hesitated. “I have to do this. I can’t…I have to wash him off me.” She glanced at Amy. “Do you understand?”

  Amy looked away for a second and cleared her throat. Rising from her chair, she pulled Devlin’s wet hair away from her face, water splattering over her green scrubs and her white leather shoes.

  “Let me give you a hand,” she said, her voice quavering ever so slightly. “Somebody needs to work on these tangles.”

  * * * *

  Jake could feel himself burn with inner rage as he and Mary waited for the elevator. In his book, anybody who hurt a woman, a child, or an animal didn’t deserve to live. He ached with the need to beat William Franz to a bloody pulp. Because he knew, without a doubt, that her uncle had done this. Of course she wouldn’t give her name. The ER would have called him without realizing what they would be doing to her. He winced as he thought of the danger she would have been in had she identified herself. The danger she was in even now. She’d had to live with him for a year. Jake shuddered. He’d already decided that the son of a bitch wouldn’t get anywhere near her. He’d kill him first.

  Mary laid a hand firmly on his arm. “Like Shauna said, you need to keep it under control.”

  Jake grunted in reply as the elevator doors opened.

  “What do you know about this?” he asked, keeping his voice as even as possible. “I want to know everything you know about her.”

  Mary sighed, and as the elevator doors closed behind them, she was in Jake’s arms, shaking.

  “Page Ken,” she whispered. “I want Ken.”

  * * * *

  Ken met them in the ICU waiting room. Mary sobbed in his arms as Jake filled him in.

  “Son of a bitch,” was his response, and he tightened his hold on Mary, “Honey, I think I should take you home. I know you want to do something, but you’re upset. It’s not good for you or the baby.”

  “No.” Mary wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. “I need to see her. I need to apologize and find out what I can do to help.”

  “What do you have to apologize for?” asked Ken and Jake at the same time.

  “For not recognizing her.” Mary sighed. “I should have recognized her. I feel like I let her down, like I let her family down.” She whispered, “Even though they’re dead.”

  Ken spoke up quickly. “How could you know who she was? She was just a kid the last time you saw her, and a lot’s happened since then. Don’t beat yourself up about this. You are not at fault. Do not blame yourself. I won’t let you blame yourself. Blame the goddamn asshole who did it.”

  “Mary,” interrupted Jake, “it’s a good thing you didn’t recognize her. Think about it for a minute. What would you have done if you had? Called your mom to get some information and then tried to reach her aunt, right? And then what? Devlin was in no condition to defend herself against this guy last night. He would have claimed she was a runaway, a juvenile delinquent, that whatever happened to her happened on the streets. If she was even conscious and understood what was happening, she might have been too scared to speak up, too scared of what he’d do to her when he got her home.” Jake ran his hands through his hair. “I looked into her eyes when we wheeled her out of the back room of that Kmart. I can tell you for a fact she gave me a first name only for a reason. Even then, sick as she was, I had to pull it out of her. From the looks of things, I’m guessing she went through a lot to get away from him, and if you’d recognized her, you’d have sent her right back to him.”

  Mary raised a hand to her mouth. “You’re right. I didn’t even think of that. Oh my God, that would have been terrible. Oh God…” Mary’s voice trailed off.

  “So, what do we do now?” asked Kenneth. “I still think you should come home.”

  “No,” answered Mary, “I’m actually supposed to be on duty in the ER. I only left because Shauna showed up with that teacher. I’m surprised they haven’t paged me yet.”

  “I’m going to spend some time with Devlin, if she’s awake,” said Jake, “before the cops descend on her. Could be rough.”

  “I’d like to come with you. I guess I told Shauna I would anyway. Ken, would you…”

  “Yeah, I’ll talk to Peters. I passed him on my way here. He was in medical records. I’ll ask him. I doubt he’ll mind. He’s trying to get back into your good graces anyway.” Kenneth grinned and nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “And then, you’re coming home with me.”

  “No argument from me.” Mary stood on her tiptoes and, with a soft hand on each side of Ken’s face, drew him down and planted a kiss on his mouth.

  Ken winked at Jake as he strode from the room.

  * * * *

  Jake and Mary entered the ICU, heading to Devlin’s cubicle. Her bed was empty, and the oxygen mask lay on the pillow. Jake stopped dead in his tracks. His chest felt as cold as ice, and he could sense Mary’s panic as if it was his own.

  “Where’s the patient?” asked Mary in a voice directed to all staff in the vicinity, pointing at the empty bed. “Where is she?”

  “Right here,” answered Amy, dripping from head to toe as she unclamped Devlin’s IVs and turned on the pumps with one hand while she supported a freshly showered and shampooed Devlin with the other. “Now if you wouldn’t mind getting her into bed, I need to find some dry scrubs. I do believe my shoes are squishing.”

  Devlin stared at them both, stunned, recognition in her eyes when they lit on Mary’s face. Her knees began to buckle. Amy turned quickly to grab her while
Mary hurried to her side, but Jake was there in two strides. He’d already swung the girl up into his arms. Cradling her against his chest, a “rules be damned” look on his face, he carried her toward the hospital bed. Mary trailed after them with the IV pump.

  Amy cranked the oxygen up to six liters and handed Jake the mask. She headed out the door, the rubber soles of her shoes squeaking loudly with the words, “I’ll be right back.”

  Jake took a good look at Devlin. She was just a skinny kid, yet he knew she would become a beautiful young woman. Her large almond-shaped aquamarine eyes were wide set, framed by lovely long, thick lashes. The kind of fairy lashes he’d only seen on a newborn foal. Her eyes were old. These were most definitely not the eyes of a child. When he saw them fill with tears, Jake knew deep down in his bones that he’d do everything in his power to protect her from hurting like this ever again.

  Devlin began to cough without pause. Mary called for Amy, ordering to give ten milligrams of Valium IV and call the respiratory therapist, stat. She asked for an ET tube. He sat the girl up and leaned her forward while Mary cranked up the oxygen and pressed the mask tightly to her face.

  * * * *

  Despite her struggle to breathe, Devlin wondered what Mary’s appearance meant. Mary Lyman, her grandparents’ neighbor, was the last person she expected to see in her hospital room. Had she been identified? Why on earth would someone call Mary? Devlin remembered the doctor caring for her in the emergency room had been named Mary. Mary was her doctor. Seeking Mary’s eyes, she peered over the mask. Mary looked back. Devlin knew she’d been recognized.

  “Oh God,” Devlin moaned, ripping off her oxygen mask. She covered her face with her hands. “Who else knows?” Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she was powerless to stop them. Racked by shaking sobs, Devlin began to cough uncontrollably. Then there was a big, warm body leaning across her bed, pulling her into strong arms, rocking her, stroking her hair.

  “It’s okay,” he crooned. The voice in her ear was low, comforting, and confident. “Your uncle can’t hurt you now. He won’t ever hurt you again.”

  “Devlin,” Mary’s voice was firm. “I need you to calm down, slow your breathing. Concentrate, Dev. Look at me, and concentrate on my voice. You’re going to be okay. I’m going to get you a breathing treatment, and I’m giving you a mild sedative. Slow down your breathing, Dev. Slow down.”

  Devlin tried to look up at Mary, but her eyes were streaming, and she couldn’t catch her breath. She pointed to the hollow of her throat, shaking her head. When Mary looked at her neck, Devlin knew she understood, that she saw the pink tracheotomy scar.

  Devlin shook her head again, unable to speak.

  “I’m not going to trach you, Devlin, but I may have to intubate you. It will be temporary. You understand that? Temporary.”

  Devlin nodded. She leaned back against Jake. Closing her eyes, she felt him nestle her into the hollow of his shoulder.

  * * * *

  Despite the fact that he knew exactly what was going on, that he himself had intubated her the day before, Jake felt helpless, out of control. It was a damn uncomfortable feeling. Jake McKenna was never out of control.

  Amy placed the endotracheal intubation set on the bedside table. She was injecting the Valium when the respiratory therapist arrived, pushing a ventilator. Devlin’s O2 sats were dropping quickly. Once the Valium hit, her head fell forward, and Mary instructed Jake to lay her down. Amy assisted with the intubation as Jake held Devlin’s hand, murmuring in her ear. Just like the night before, the ET tube slid in easily. As the Respiratory Therapist attached the ventilator, Devlin began to struggle. Jake held her while Amy administered another ten milligrams of Valium. Amy hooked Devlin back up to the heart monitor and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm.

  “Vitals every fifteen minutes. Call Dr. Walters,” ordered Mary, all business now. “I want her kept sedated and…” Her voice drifted away as she left the room to go over medication orders.

  Jake could hear Amy apologizing for allowing Devlin up, but Mary stopped her.

  “It’s not your fault,” he heard her say. “It’s mine.”

  First chance he got, Jake would call Ken to take Mary home.

  * * * *

  Mike, Beth Ellis, and Shauna stood beside Amy in the doorway to Devlin’s ICU cubicle. Jake rested his head on one hand, his eyes closed. His other hand cradled Devlin’s.

  “I was hoping to ask her some questions,” said Shauna in a low voice. “What happened? I thought Dr. Workman said she was coming around.”

  “She was. She crashed. We had to sedate her and put her on a ventilator,” answered Amy.

  Shauna turned to Miss Ellis. “Can you identify her?”

  “Yes, that’s Devlin Barre.” She turned to Mike, distraught. Without hesitation, he folded her in his arms and drew her away from the room.

  “Where’s Dr. Workman?” Shauna asked Amy.

  “She was exhausted,” said Amy. “Her husband took her home. Dr. Walters is here if you want to speak with him.”

  Shauna looked around the ICU but didn’t see anyone who looked like a physician.

  “Please,” she said, a bit taciturn.

  The victim, her only witness at this point, looked pretty bad. Shauna sighed. She wanted an arrest. It would be a lot easier to prove her case if the witness survived to point the finger at her assailant, though if she didn’t, it would become a murder investigation, the assault the direct or indirect cause of her death. After she got an update from Dr. Walters, she wanted to talk with Jake, find out if the girl said anything before they knocked her out. Then she planned to call in the troops and head over to the Franzs’ home. She intended to take the asshole down to the station house and question him herself. She’d already sent Scott for a search warrant.

  Amy led Dr. Walters from one of the other cubicles and introduced him to Shauna.

  “The patient appears to have suffered a setback, what looks like possible sepsis, probably pneumococcal pneumonia. It’s very serious.” He was blunt. “The one thing she has in her favor is her youth, that and the fact that Mr. McKenna seems to have taken an interest in her. His presence could make a difference.”

  “I’d like her to live,” said Shauna, handing him her card. “Call me if she wakes up.”

  Dr. Walters shot her an accusing look, then accepted her card. “Don’t we all?” He dismissed her, disappearing into Devlin’s cubicle with Amy, drawing the curtain behind them.

  Jake walked out of the cubicle. He leaned against the doorframe, his handsome face drawn, tired. Shauna caught his attention and motioned him over to the ICU exit.

  “Did she say anything?”

  “Not much, she didn’t have time. But she did seem to recognize Mary.” Jake paused to rub his eyes. “She looked terrified. I think she assumed her uncle was right behind us.”

  “All right, I’m outta here. Like I told Dr. Walters, call if she wakes up.” Shauna headed through the double doors.

  Chapter Four

  For three days, Devlin hovered near death, aware of only two things. The first was a deep sense of acceptance. She relinquished control of her life and her death. Whatever happened, happened. She didn’t really care. The second thing Devlin felt deep in her bones. It was the awareness of a constant, passionate, warm, very male presence at her side. Despite the disinterest she felt for her own body lying in the hospital bed, Devlin knew without a doubt that the man sitting next to her was Jake. He alone was the string that connected her, like a kite, to her physical self. His will held on to Devlin with a force she couldn’t deny. Every time she tried to leave, Jake called her back. For three long days, she felt him pour his own strength, his hope, and his courage into her. If Devlin managed to open her eyes, she knew it would be because of Jake.

  * * * *

  Jake ran his fingers through his hair as Mary listened to Devlin’s lungs and checked her pressures. He hated the fact that they’d had to insert a central line, but he understood th
e need. The past three days had been hell. He felt like he was the only thing keeping Devlin here. He desperately wanted her to fight for herself, but it was as if the fight had gone out of her, as if any desire to live had vanished. He fought her battle for her, holding her here, giving her as much of his strength as he could. He tried his best to reignite the fires within her.

  From what Mary told him, back in Iowa Devlin had been a little hellion, always running wild and getting into trouble with Mary’s brothers. She’d been the leader of the pack, even though she and Mary’s brother Jason were the two youngest. Mary mentioned the time Devlin and Jason were six years old and they had somehow managed to set up a jumping course for their ponies using bushel baskets, bales of hay, and giant pumpkins stolen from the pumpkin patch behind the barn. Mary’s mom noticed the strange quiet, but nobody caught on until the two of them were already flying down the cornfield on the backs of their bay ponies, without saddles or bridles, out of control, squealing in hilarity at the top of their lungs.

  Mary’s father and her brother Mark had taken off after them, yelling, “Whoa! Whoa!” Mary said the amazing thing was that both managed to jump the entire course and stay on until they reached the other side, where they both fell off in a fit of giggles. Mary’s dad caught up to them and tanned their little hides.

  Mary claimed that was the Devlin she remembered—the exuberant, intelligent, mischievous little girl who kept Mary’s brothers enthralled with her wild antics, and all the adults on edge, wondering what she’d get into next. That was the Devlin Jake ached to know, not this shadow-girl who’d lost all desire to live. Jake shook his head, confused by his feelings. It was odd to care so much about a complete stranger, but he felt somehow connected to her and fiercely protective of her. Above all, he wanted life to return to her eyes. He wanted her to have a reason to live. Even if he had to make one up for her, especially now, with what Mary told him about the accident and what he’d learned two days ago from Mike.

  Mary ruffled his hair, interrupting his thoughts.

 

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