Heart Stop

by Radclyffe

  “Good.” Jay mentally rolled her eyes. Stalkerish? Could she be any less smooth? And now Olivia probably thought she’d been having X-rated fantasies about her. And she hadn’t. She didn’t need a fantasy when just being in the same space with her was a turn-on.

  “I see you’re settling in.”

  Jay stopped halfway to the chair, confused, and then realized what she’d done. When she’d arrived that morning, she’d automatically changed into scrubs and grabbed a cover gown from a metal shelf filled with them in the pit. “Oh. Habit. Sorry, I don’t have a lab coat yet. I have to order a couple plain ones.”

  “You can take one of mine that doesn’t have my name on it. It might be a little bit short on you, but we’re almost the same size.” Olivia frowned and her gaze drifted over Jay’s body. “Might be a little tight in the shoulders too. Do you row?”

  Jay had that feeling of being studied again, the way Olivia measured her with her eyes. She’d never worried so much about measuring up to a woman’s speculation before, or liked the prospect of having a woman check her out so much. When she realized the silence stretched on between them and Olivia merely continued to watch her, heat rose in her face. “Ah, I did row, a long time ago it seems like now. I rowed crew in college, and some in med school. But once my residency started—” She shrugged. “You know how it is. There wasn’t time for anything except that.”

  “Nothing?” Olivia asked quietly.

  Was she asking about a relationship? She could hope. Jay shrugged. If she was wrong, what would she lose. She wasn’t raised to be a coward. “Nothing except the OR and the trauma unit and the gym sometimes. No hobbies. And nobody even halfway serious.”

  “Ever?”

  Jay shook her head sheepishly. “Nope. One-track mind, and everything else was just a distraction.”

  “Ah.” Olivia pursed her lips. “I can see where that might have been a deterrent on the personal front.”

  “I didn’t see it that way then,” Jay said honestly. She’d never wanted for anything, or if she had, she’d been too busy to think about it for more than a minute when the next crisis came down the pike. She’d occasionally envied Ali her relationship with Beau, but figured one day—a long time in the future—she’d have time. “I ran out of time, I guess.”

  “How so?”

  “You know the question everyone asks you every time you apply for a position—med school, residency, fellowships—where do you see yourself in ten years?” Jay shrugged. “I guess I just figured once I hit the ten-year mark, I’d have time to think about other things.”

  “It’s a long hard road for everyone, and even longer in surgery with a sub-specialty added on. I’m so sorry that your previous path ended the way it did.”

  Your previous path. Your old life. The one that was over now.

  The wind left Jay’s lungs, and for just an instant, she swayed unsteadily. She caught her breath and sat down in the chair across from Olivia’s desk. “It was kind of my fault.”

  Olivia leaned forward and laced her hands together, her gaze never leaving Jay’s face. “How is that?”

  Jay hadn’t talked about it with anyone, not even Vic or Ali. For a long time after she’d come to in the trauma ICU she couldn’t remember all the details, and then she hadn’t wanted to remember. Ali and Vic both knew the details from the EMTs, and they sure as hell knew what happened here in the hospital, but they didn’t know her story. Her memories and her nightmares. All of a sudden, she wanted someone to know. She wanted Olivia to know. “It was late May, almost a year ago, and I’d been on call the night before and left the hospital pretty late. Midnight maybe. I was alone driving west on the expressway. I had a week of vacation coming, believe it or not, and had rented a place in the Adirondacks. Figured I’d sit around and do nothing for a week, no internet, not much cell service. Maybe hike a bit. It was raining pretty good.”

  She still remembered the feeling of excitement, of freedom, as she left the city and the hospital behind. She loved what she did, but the pace could wear you down to a stub before you knew it was happening. A week away was just what she needed to recharge. Even the rain hadn’t dulled her spirits.

  “Traffic was light, even though it was a Friday night, and visibility was pretty crappy. I saw emergency flashers up ahead of me and slowed down. The wipers were going at top speed, and I could still barely see through a wash of water on the windshield.” She laughed ruefully, all the way back in that car in that freak rainstorm, feeling like she was escaping for just a little while from the nonstop pressure and relentless pace. Man. Had she been wrong. “I slowed down when I made out a woman with the trunk of an SUV open, trying to drag a tire out and looking like she wasn’t gonna manage it alone. At least that’s how it looked in the quick glimpse I had. So I pulled over as much as I could and got out to give her a hand. I think maybe I forgot to put my flashers on and maybe that’s why the guy in the tow truck didn’t see me. He took off the door of the rental car and me along with it.”

  Olivia wanted to close her eyes, if only for a second, but she kept her gaze on Jay’s pain-filled, haunted face. She did not want to envision Jay crushed and bleeding on some dark, rain-soaked highway, but let the image come. She owed her that. She’d asked her to share the horror, after all. “You survived. I’m so glad.”

  Jay snorted. “I spent three months more or less out of it in the ICU and then rehab, and well”—she gestured to her body—“some of this is permanent. I took a helluva bang on my head, and the nerve damage is central. Rehab won’t undo that.”

  “You might yet see improvement. The brain is remarkably resilient.”

  “I’m not waiting around to find out.” Jay shrugged. “I’m not one to live on hope.”

  “No,” Olivia said. “I suspect you prefer to forge your own reality.”

  “Not doing so great with that.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. You’re here.”

  “Maybe I’m starting to wise up.”

  Olivia smiled. “How is it you think the accident’s your fault?”

  “Stupid thing to do,” Jay muttered. “Everybody knows stopping on the highway, in a storm, no less, is a setup for an accident. Hell, I’ve taken care of half a dozen people run down during the same scenario. But what do I do? I hop out of my car like fucking Sir Galahad.”

  “Did someone accuse you of being foolhardy?” Olivia demanded.

  “Not to my face.”

  “I should hope not. You stopped to help someone who needed help. I know the expressway pretty well, and none of the sections are so dark that you would have been completely invisible even without your flashers, if that was even the case. But a rainy night, late at night, I can see how someone wouldn’t see you. But that’s not your fault.”

  “Well, it’s not the guy driving the truck’s, either.”

  “No, that’s what makes it so hard. There’s no one to blame. That’s why we call those things accidents. And I’m not the least bit surprised you stopped that night. I’m just sorry about the way it turned out.”

  Jay blew out a breath. “I’m still pissed at myself.”

  Olivia nodded. “I know how that is. It’s hard not to blame yourself for the things you would do differently if you had the chance. In your case, I would say you are completely guiltless, and you should absolve yourself. You’re the only one who can.”

  “In my case?”

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  “You don’t feel the same?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “About your past, and I’m guessing the guilt has something to do with the guy you divorced. It is a guy, right?”

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  Jay lifted a shoulder. “I’m betting you were a lot younger and probably weren’t very experienced and bought in to some romantic picture before you really asked yourself what you wanted.”

  Olivia shook her head. “I appreciate your attempt to exonerate me, but I was never a romantic. True, I never asked myself
what I wanted—I was a little too busy trying to be who my mother wanted.” She let out an aggravated breath. “And that’s a story too old and too clichéd to repeat. We should do our jobs and deal with the present.”

  “All right.” Jay hid her disappointment. She knew from experience some revelations couldn’t be rushed. “But I’d like to hear it sometime, when you feel like you can tell me.”

  “It doesn’t make for very interesting listening.”

  “I disagree. Anything you tell me is interesting.”

  Olivia blushed, such a rare occurrence, Jay wished she could freeze the moment in time. She wished to hell they were somewhere else. Anywhere else. If the desk, the damn desk again, hadn’t been between them, she could have reached out, she could have brushed the loose strand of hair off Olivia’s cheek, could’ve run her thumb along the angle of her jaw, could’ve leaned down just a little and pressed her mouth over Olivia’s. The image made her groan softly.

  “Jay,” Olivia murmured, her voice as hazy as Jay’s vision, “wherever you just went might be a very dangerous place to go.”

  “I don’t think so.” Jay’s voice came out as if she’d strained it through gravel. “I don’t think so at all.”

  Olivia leaned back and busied herself with her computer, a clear signal they needed to change lanes and get back on track. “Yes, well, I wanted your input on something.”

  Jay lassoed her libido and tied it down. “Right—one of the cases?”

  “I’ve got the lab report on our suspected OD.”

  “What do we have?”

  Olivia turned her monitor ninety degrees and gestured to Jay. “Come see.”

  Jay rose, walked just the slightest bit unsteadily around the desk, and stood beside Olivia’s chair. A series of numbers, percentages, and chemical compounds ran down the page on the screen. Her curiosity kicked in along with her focus. “Blood chemistry?”

  “That’s right,” Olivia said. “Nothing unusual showed up in her blood except a very high concentration of this substance right here.” She tapped the screen with a stylus. “Unidentified.”

  “Could they at least narrow down the class of drugs?”

  Olivia tilted her head and smiled. “You’re good at this, you know that?”

  The appreciation in Olivia’s gaze hit Jay like an auditorium full of applause. Pleasure at pleasing Olivia bubbled through her blood. That look right there, the spark in Olivia’s eyes that said she had done well was more addictive than any drug. Jay wanted more of that, a lot more. Waiting, along with hope, just wasn’t in her nature.

  “Tell me if I’m good at this,” Jay murmured as she leaned down and kissed her.

  Olivia’s lips were cool and firm beneath hers, unmoving for an instant and then parting to admit the tip of Jay’s tongue, just enough for her to slide her mouth over Olivia’s, to tease the inner surface of her lip, to taste her heat. She groaned again, a sound in her chest that would’ve been pain if it hadn’t been such pleasure. Lightly, ever so lightly, she rested her fingertips on the edge of Olivia’s jaw. Her skin was soft, the scent of her hair a teasing hint of oranges. She kept her eyes open, and Olivia gazed back, her lids partly lowered, the gray-green a hazy morning’s promise of heat to come. Jay didn’t breathe, she didn’t need to, but when she shifted to take the kiss deeper, Olivia slowly pushed her chair back until the distance broke their connection. Jay’s hand slowly fell through the void to her side.

  “Jay…” Olivia’s emotions swirled out of control—desire a swift blade in her depths, sweetness more intense than mere pleasure, and heat everywhere. Jay’s breath rasped sharply in the quiet room, and Olivia sensed the effort Jay made to hold back. Another touch and they would both break. The cold hand of reason clamped Olivia in a vise. She’d been the one to say yes, now she had to be the one to say no. She took a deep breath. “You are an excellent kisser.”

  Jay looked stunned, and then she laughed, a wild sound that dared Olivia to leave logic behind. “That’s not what I expected you to say.”

  “What did you think?” Olivia whispered.

  “I thought you’d say no.”

  “I already have, haven’t I?”

  “Maybe.” Jay didn’t move, didn’t close the space between them, but didn’t back away either. “Is that no more ever, or no more right now?”

  The look on Jay’s face, the need she didn’t even bother to hide, pulled at Olivia like fingers on the strings of a harp, achingly beautiful music and dark warning all tangled together. “Aren’t you afraid of anything?”

  “A week ago I was afraid of everything,” Jay whispered. “I was afraid of this body I lived in, I was afraid of the future, I was afraid of myself. I’m not afraid now.”

  “You should be. I am.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve been here before,” Olivia said. “Because I know the cost of what a kiss can be.”

  “I’m not him.”

  “I know, but I’m still me.”

  Jay’s jaw tensed. “Every time I look at you I want to kiss you.”

  “We have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jay shrugged. “I don’t suppose you’d let me kiss you for fifteen more minutes.”

  Olivia shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Then I’d better not be close enough to touch you right now.” Jay stepped back around the desk.

  Olivia’s relief was bittersweet. Longing simmered in her depths, an old ache tinged with loneliness and need, but at least she was familiar with that. She sat for a minute behind her desk in the silence. “We’re going to have to work together, and it might be best if we not repeat that.”

  “Is that what you want?” Jay asked.

  “It’s what I think.”

  “I understand.” Jay buried the kiss the way she buried everything else that mattered except the case, just as she’d done for years the moment she’d walked into the OR. The reflex was so ingrained, she didn’t even have to think about it. Olivia had set the boundaries, at least for now. Jay had a job to do, and she intended to do it. Wanted to do it for herself, and because Olivia would accept nothing less.

  Olivia expected the disappointment and didn’t let it show. Her reason had never completely ruled her senses, but she’d learned to live with that. What she couldn’t bear to repeat was the surrender of her willpower and her dignity, her very self, to some primitive hunger she couldn’t control. This was a far better course to follow. She cleared her throat. “So, this drug. I spoke to Flanagan in the crime scene unit about it this morning.”

  Jay laughed, a hard-edged laugh that might have masked frustration. “Does everybody in the death business start work at five?”

  “Only some of us,” Olivia said. “At any rate, best guess is this is a manufactured opioid, probably illegally produced and distributed. It’s not a regulation pharmaceutical.”

  “Which means untraceable?”

  “Yes,” Olivia said. “Apparently no one knows where it’s coming from, or how much of it is already available on the streets. This may be an isolated incident.”

  “It would certainly help if they knew who she was and how she got it,” Jay said.

  “You’re right, it would. Unfortunately, that’s not our responsibility or our job. She would be a clear accidental death if it weren’t for the fact she’d been moved.” Olivia rubbed a spot between her brows, a rare sign of irritation. “That complicates the picture. We’ll leave the case open at least until the police have a chance to investigate further.”

  “And what if we never know?”

  “I hate signing cases out as undetermined.” Olivia met Jay’s gaze and her eyes clouded with regret. “But sometimes we have to do the things we don’t want to do, just because they make the most sense.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “So, how’s it going at the new place?” Beau slid a plate of grilled chicken onto the dining room table. The afternoon had been warm, and the three of them sat outside in
the narrow yard behind Ali’s town house until the sun started to go down and the air turned cool. A flagstone patio took up half the space, and the rest was casually landscaped with hostas and other hardy perennials. The wooden fences on each side, hung with planters that would soon be overflowing with flowers, divided the runway yard from the adjacent ones and made the space into a little oasis amidst the city stone and steel.

  Jay caught Ali’s glance of concern at Beau’s question. Although she appreciated Ali still worried over her, she didn’t need her to. She wasn’t recovering any longer—she was back to living. Funny how shedding the label helped improve her mood and a lot of other things, including her libido. She would have smiled if she’d actually been able to do anything about that particular reawakened part of herself. Jay speared some chicken, baked potato, and the broccoli that Ali had placed next to the chicken. “Well, I haven’t killed anyone yet.”

  Beau laughed. Ali arched an eyebrow as she filled Jay’s wineglass and sat between Jay and Beau at one end of the table.

  “Not that I was in the habit of doing that in the trauma unit,” Jay hastened to add with a sideways grin at Ali.

  “I’m really glad to hear I hadn’t somehow missed a run of unexplained complications,” Ali said dryly.

  “Still tough to lose one,” Beau murmured, “especially when you’re just a few minutes late.”

  “Yeah,” Jay said, thinking of a recent callout when the teen driver of a vehicle involved in an expressway pileup was still warm when they’d arrived, looking as if she had just closed her eyes to nap for a minute. Except for the deceleration injury that had severed her aorta and caused her to bleed out in under a minute, she didn’t have a mark on her. “Sometimes it feels like if we could just turn the clock back a couple of minutes, we could change everything.”

  “Fine line between living and dying,” Beau said softly. Dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt that displayed the emblem of the Philadelphia Fire Department, she was muscled through the shoulders and chest and lean in the hips. She was a bit younger than Jay and slightly tanned even in the middle of spring from all the time she spent outside working fire rescue. The gold ring on her left hand matched the one on Ali’s.