by T L Swan
My fury bubbles and I count through the blister pack. “There are thirty-eight tablets here.”
“How many came in the box?”
I speed-read the directions on the box as I look for the amount. “Pack of forty.”
“So, she’s had only two?”
I stare at the dazed woman in front of me. “I think she’s had more than that.”
“Can you look through her belongings and see?”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
“Listen here, you motherfucker. I want an ambulance to the Miles Media building right now. If this woman dies I’m having you charged with . . .” I pause as I try and think of an appropriate charge. “Something bad,” I splutter. “Murder.”
“Just check her bag.”
I begin to rattle through Kate’s bag, wallet, keys, makeup . . . tampons. I wince and throw them over my shoulder.
“Well?” the operator asks.
“I’m looking, alright? There’s a lot of fucking crap in here.” Oh, screw this, I tip the handbag upside down onto the carpet and stuff flies everywhere.
“What are you doing?” Kate whispers as she sleepily sits up. “Get out of my bag.”
My eyes nearly bulge from their sockets. “Get out of your bag? Are you fucking serious right now?”
“What?” she whispers.
“What’s happening, sir?”
I grit my teeth. “The patient is about to get knocked back out. That’s what’s happening.”
“What is your name, dear?”
Kate frowns. “Kate Landon.”
“What’s happened?”
Kate frowns as she looks around. “I don’t know.”
“You took some medication?” the operator asks.
“No,” she whispers.
I hold the box up and widen my eyes. “Look familiar?”
“Oh.” She puts her hand over her forehead as she remembers. “Yes, I took some painkillers.”
“What were the painkillers for, dear?”
“Period pain.” Kate’s eyes flick to me.
I roll my eyes. Now I’ve fucking heard it all.
“How many did you take?” the operator asks.
“Only two.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Remind me never to do cocaine with you,” I mutter dryly.
“Can you sit up?” the operator asks.
Kate goes to sit up and struggles. I take her hand and pull her up into a seated position.
“I’m dizzy.”
“You’ve had an adverse reaction to the medication, you’re drowsy and disoriented. It happens with some people.”
“So, is she okay?” I snap.
“She needs to sleep it off.”
“I’m bringing her into the hospital, I want her checked out,” I reply.
“Sir, you might be waiting for hours in Emergency. If she has only had two tablets I can assure you she needs to sleep it off and nothing more.”
My eyes flick to Kate. “How many have you had, really?”
“Two.”
I glare at her. “I mean it.”
“I promise.”
“Fine,” I snap.
“Can someone pick you up, dear?”
“I’ll drive her home.”
Kate goes to stand up. “I’m fine.” She slips and stumbles back over.
“Congratulations, sir, you did a great job,” the operator says.
Patronizing cow.
“Yes, well, I wish I could say the same for you. It’s lucky she isn’t dead with your snail pace. There was no urgency whatsoever. Work faster next time. Goodbye.” I end the call with force.
Kate looks up at me and then her heavy eyelids close once more.
“Come on, I’ll see you home.” I sigh.
“I’m fine,” she mumbles with her eyes closed. “I’m just going to . . . sleep here tonight.”
I begin to pack up her things that are strewn all over the floor. “You need to clean out your handbag, this thing is full of shit.” I stuff things back in.
“Like you,” she whispers with her eyes still shut.
“Why is this bag so big?” I snap. “This isn’t a handbag, this is luggage.”
Kate frowns and throws her arm over her face. “Just. Shut. Up,” she whispers.
I put her handbag over my shoulder and grab her hand and pull her to her feet; she’s still disoriented and staggers to the side. I put my arm around her. “Come on, stand up. Focus.”
She looks up at me all sleepy, her hair wild and messed up, and an unwelcome smile crosses my face.
“What?” She frowns.
“Do you know how dopey you look right now, Landon?”
“And I’m . . . in my red netball . . . dress,” she slurs.
I smile as I lead her to the elevator. “What a pity.”
Chapter 5
I slowly lead her to the elevator and I hit the button. She sways and I put my arm around her to hold her up. “Stay still.”
She looks up at me and I smirk as I look down at her.
“Don’t,” she slurs as she falls to the side.
I pull her back against my body. “Don’t what?”
“An”—her eyes flutter—“noy me.”
I chuckle. “Impossible.” The doors open and I lead her in and we turn and face the front. She puts her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes. I catch sight of us in the reflection on the doors: now that’s something I never thought I’d see.
Kathryn Landon, sleepy and calm, under my arm.
The doors open into the lobby and I slowly walk her out; she’s so docile.
“Is everything alright, sir?” The security guard comes running.
“She’s groggy, had a reaction to some medication.”
“Can I do anything?” he splutters as he looks between us.
“No, thank you, I’ll see that she gets home safely.”
He practically runs for the door and he holds it open for us.
My Bentley is parked in the bay outside, and Andrew gets out and frowns as he sees me nearly carrying Kate. “What’s wrong with her?” he asks.
“Just groggy, a reaction to medication, we’ll get her home.”
He opens the back door in a rush.
“In the car,” I say to Kate.
She closes her eyes as her head leans against my chest. “I’m just going to . . . walk.”
Fuck’s sake.
I put my hand on the top of her head and push her down, maneuver her into the right position, and then with one almighty shove she falls into the backseat.
“Ow.” She grimaces.
I shuffle in beside her and close the door. “Where do you live?” I ask as we pull out into the traffic.
She points out of the window. “Over there.”
“Over where?”
“Out. There,” she snaps as if exasperated.
I roll my eyes; even when drugged this woman is annoying. “Tell me your address or I’m looking through your luggage again.”
“It’s twenty-four . . .” She frowns and holds her finger up. “No wait, that’s my old address . . . ummmm.”
“Christ almighty.” I drag my hand down my face in frustration.
“I know it,” she continues.
“And?”
“It’s . . . forty-four/a Kent Road.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sshh, stop talking,” she whispers as she holds her finger up to her lips in an overexaggerated way. “You’re hurting my ears.” She points with both hands to her ears.
I smirk at her acting out every word.
“Forty-four Kent Road,” I say to Andrew.
“Sure thing, boss.” He turns right at the next junction.
Kate’s head falls and I pull her back under my arm and hold her close. She closes her eyes and rests against my chest.
We drive for ten minutes in the traffic and then she falls deeper in
to sleep and puts her hand up on my chest and nestles in tight.
I frown down at her as a weird feeling comes over me.
Hmm . . . interesting.
After a while, Andrew pulls the car into a parking space, then he turns and looks at us. “This is it.”
I frown as I peer at the old terraced building. “This is it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Kate,” I whisper; she stays asleep and I give her a little shake. “Kate,” I whisper again.
“If you’re trying to wake her, you don’t need to whisper,” Andrew mutters.
“Eyes on the road,” I snap.
Smart-ass.
He chuckles as he gets out, and opens the back door on my side. I climb out and then lean back in. “Kate,” I say loudly. “Wake up, we’re home.”
Andrew reaches in to help.
“I’ve got this,” I say.
She frowns as she comes to and looks around sleepily. “Huh.”
I hold my hand out to her and she takes it and I pull her over toward me, but she slips off the seat and onto the floor of the car. “Oh . . .”
I chuckle as I reach down for her, she’s all legs and arms and tangled up. “That red dress a little slippery, old girl?”
Andrew rolls his eyes. “Bloody hell,” he mutters under his breath.
I take her hand, pull her out of the car and wrap my arm around her. We slowly walk up the six steps leading to the terrace.
“Walk up the steps,” I direct her.
She goes to sit down on the bottom step. “I’ll just sleep here.”
“Kate,” I say in my best authoritative voice. “Concentrate and walk up the steps please.”
She goes to sit down again and I glance back at Andrew, who’s laughing and leaning on the side of the car as he watches the show.
“Shut up,” I mouth.
He smiles with a wink and lights his cigarette.
That’s the thing with having the same driver for seven years, they get too fucking comfortable.
“Kate,” I snap. “Walk up the stairs and then you can go to sleep.”
“Hmm.” She smiles with her eyes closed, takes one step.
“That’s it.”
She takes two more.
“Good girl.”
“I sleep here.”
I keep pulling her up and we get to the front door, and I ring the bell.
Kate leans on me and closes her eyes; I wrap my arm around her tight.
Two tablets and this is her . . . I would hate to think what would happen if she actually had some hard stuff.
I ring the bell again . . . no answer.
“Kate, is anyone home?”
“Yeah.” She smiles goofily up at me. “We are.”
“I mean, your flatmates.”
She shrugs and goes back to leaning on me.
“Where are your keys?” I ask.
She shrugs once more.
“For fuck’s sake.” I rattle through her handbag and dig out the keys. “What key is it?”
“Red one.”
I get the red key and open the door. “Hello,” I call.
No answer.
I look back toward the car and Andrew shrugs.
“Bed for you,” I say, walk her in, and close the door behind us.
Once we have negotiated her apartment’s front door, I ask, “Where is your bedroom?”
She points up the steep, narrow stairs and I peer up. Oh hell. “Of course it is.”
I think for a moment. What do I do now? I can’t just leave her here.
“Alright.” I bend and lift her over my shoulder.
“Oh . . . don’t,” she slurs. “Put me down.”
“Shut up.” I slap her behind. I take one step, then two.
I take another few steps and my thighs begin to burn. My chest tightens.
I stumble back, oh . . . fuck it.
Don’t drop her.
Nothing is easy with this damn woman.
I grit my teeth and begin to climb the stairs as fast as I can.
“Put me down,” she moans, and I slap her behind again.
“Behave yourself. Breaking my back is the last thing I wanted to do tonight.”
We get to the top and I put her back onto her feet as I clutch my chest and gasp for air. Holy hell.
That was hard.
She teeters on her feet and I grab her hand and drag her into her bedroom.
I walk her over to the bed and pull the covers back and lie her down. I take one sneaker off and she kicks her foot as if to get me to stop.
“You know”—I undo the laces on the other shoe—“lots of women would die for me to take their shoes off in bed.”
“Desper potatoes,” she slurs.
“They are not desperados.” I smile as the other shoe comes free. She’s wearing pale pink socks, and I tuck her legs in and pull the covers up over her.
She smiles up at me and holds her hand out.
I take it in mine and sit down beside her; her eyelids are heavy and she battles to keep them open. I brush the hair back from her forehead as I look down at her.
Her blonde hair is splayed across her pillow and her big lips are a pouty rose color. Her dark lashes flutter as she tries to keep her eyes open.
She really is quite . . .
I look up at her room, painted cream with a large white timber bed. There is a bookshelf and a dressing table, makeup in baskets, and photo frames; it feels very lived in. Fairy lights are strewn around the ceiling and a large reading chair with an ottoman is in the corner. Looks like a dorm room I would have visited back in the day.
My gaze comes back to Kate and she’s sleeping soundly, her hand still holding mine.
I find myself smiling as I watch her. What do I do now? I mean, I can’t just leave her here alone. What if something happened?
That would be negligent.
I guess I’ll have to wait.
An hour later, I need to go to the bathroom but Kate is still firmly holding my hand. I move it a little and she frowns and grips me tighter. “Don’t,” she murmurs sleepily.
“I’m coming straight back,” I whisper.
“I said no.”
Demanding witch. I’m starving fucking hungry and about to piss myself.
Well, tough shit.
I get up and walk into her en-suite bathroom and look around; it’s small.
A basket with dirty clothes; pink towels and a matching bath mat. I go to the bathroom and wash my hands and then walk back out into her room. I walk over to her bookshelf and look at all the photos in the frames—one of an older couple, and one of her at a young age with them, they must be her parents. A photo of a dog, a black-and-white border collie. A photo of her and a man who looks around her age, taken a few years ago. I wonder, was this a boyfriend?
She said she didn’t have a boyfriend.
I keep looking through her belongings—a few crystals strategically placed.
Don’t tell me she’s one of those nut jobs who believe in crystal healing.
Hmm.
It’s very eclectic in here. So unlike my perfectly styled penthouse.
I look along the spines of the books—what does she read?
Ugh, romance reader.
I would never have guessed that one.
There’s a small crystal dish and an array of gold jewelry. I smile as I pick up one of her rings and put it on the end of my pinkie finger.
Tiny hands.
I take it off and put it back and keep looking through her photos. It’s like show-and-tell and I’m learning all about her.
And surprisingly, not a cauldron in sight.
I retrieve her phone from her handbag and go back and sit down beside her, and she rolls toward me and puts her hand over my thighs.
My stomach flutters.
Stop it.
I really should be going, I’ve been here for hours. Where the fuck is that stupid Daniel and his sickly white teeth now?
“Kate.” I
wake her. “Kate.” I hold her phone in front of her. “Unlock your phone for me, I’m going to call someone.”
She frowns and nestles closer into my thigh, and I run my fingers through her hair. We sit like this for a while and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it.
But I’m hungry; it’s now nearly 10 p.m.
“Kate.” I hold the phone up to her face. “Unlock your phone, please.”
“Hmm.”
“Kate.”
She fumbles around with it with her eyes still closed and passes it back to me.
She nestles back into my thigh and I watch her for a moment.
Okay, I’ll admit it.
I like her.
Not like her, like her, I just don’t hate her like I thought I did.
I go through the list of contacts as I look for the name Daniel.
Hmm, no Daniel.
I don’t know his last name . . . fuck.
That guy is fucking useless on all fronts.
Another hour later.
Maybe I’ll just go downstairs and get something to eat? Then maybe . . . I’ll just sleep here with her?
I mean, I can’t leave her alone.
Yeah, I’ll do that.
The bedroom door opens and I look up, startled. It’s Daniel.
Kate is fast asleep and her hand is in mine.
He frowns when he sees me and looks between Kate and I.
“She’s out cold,” I offer as an explanation.
“Umm . . . What’s going on?” he asks as he walks into the bedroom.
“She had a reaction to some medication and was groggy. I found her passed out in the office and brought her home.”
His eyes widen. “We need to take her to the hospital.”
“I already called emergency services, and she’s okay. Just sleepy, I’ve checked already. She’s conscious, just sleeping.”
He stares at her. “Wow.”
I stand. “I’ll go now that you’re here.”
He sits on the side of the bed beside her. “Baby?” he says. “Are you okay?”
An unfamiliar feeling swirls in my stomach as I watch him with her.
Don’t call her baby.
I clench my jaw as I move toward the door. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Daniel stands and shakes my hand. “Thank you so much, I really appreciate you caring for her. I’ll take it from here.”
I stare at him; okay, I don’t like this guy.
He’s too . . . familiar.
“I’m not sure if I should leave her with you?” I say.
His face falls. “Why not?”