by DB Michaels
“The night officer can drive us,” Charles said. “No need to go out of your way.”
“I’m not.” Maxim swung his scowl to Sam. “Why are you still here? Didn’t the doctor dismiss you already?”
“Yes, sir.” Her brother almost tripped in his haste to stand up. “I’m leaving right now, sir.”
“Take it easy. You don’t need to rush.” He’d received all that Ativan. She hoped he wasn’t going to keel over. Emma put out her hand. “Are you sure you feel better?”
“Yes, Doctor.” Sam spared her one last warning look before shuffling out of the clinic.
“I’ll call the night officer,” Charles said.
“I said I’ll drive her.”
“It’s okay, Charles. I need to check on Mr. Nash first.” Emma quickly stepped between the two men. “You go first.”
“Alright, if that’s what you want.” Charles flashed her his trademark smile. “So, I’ll see you Monday evening? The session may run late so I’ll order us dinner.”
“That’ll be nice. Thanks.”
Maxim’s nostrils flared. He looked like he was about to hit someone. And here she’d been defending him earlier. Emma sighed. Charles wisely gave them a wide berth before departing.
“What is wrong with you?” Emma said as soon as they were alone. “Why did you have to be so rude? You didn’t have to yell at Morris, and Charles was only trying to be nice.”
“Ha. I bet he was.” Maxim dug a hand through his hair, his scowl deepening. “Do you really have to check on Nash? It’s almost two o’clock. Can’t it wait til morning?”
“He’s in pain, Maxim. I need to see him.” Darn. It was really late. She should have checked on the old man already. Emma hurried down the hall toward room eight.
“Wait. You can’t go in there alone.” Maxim was at her heels. “I’m coming with you.”
“He’s weak and dying. I think I’ll be safe.”
“Never trust an inmate, Emma. Haven’t I told you that already?” Maxim followed her into the room but at least thankfully remained silent during the exam.
Mr. Nash’s vitals were good but he winced as soon as Emma touched his abdomen. The poor man looked even more emaciated and jaundiced than before. She had to get him that compassionate release somehow.
“I’m going to up his morphine,” Emma said as they proceeded back to the Urgent Care.
“Whatever. Do what you have to do so we can leave.”
“He’s dying, Maxim.”
“Not my problem.”
Jeez. What happened to the nice man who’d let her cry on his shoulders earlier? “Can you sign for his compassionate release? It’s much better if he can die at home. Surrounded by his family.”
“No way. He’s not getting out early just because he’s sick.”
“Please, Maxim. He’s been punished enough.”
“He killed his own son-in-law.”
“To protect his granddaughter.”
“So he claims.” Maxim snorted.
“How can you be so unsympathetic?”
“I’m trying to be fair to the victim here.”
Emma kept walking, knowing defeat stared her in the face. She could understand where Maxim was coming from, especially with his parents’ history, but did Mr. Nash deserve to die in prison alone? She didn’t think so, but Maxim wasn’t wrong either in his advocacy for the victims. If only he could bend a little just once. Maybe if she got to know him better, she could convince him.
When they arrived back at her studio, Emma still couldn’t shake off the unbearable tension gnawing at her insides. Mr. Nash wasn’t her only worry. Something must have happened to scare Sam tonight. He was lying about being fine. Why wouldn’t he talk with her?
“You look exhausted, Emma. Let’s get you to bed,” Maxim said as she plopped down on the sofa.
“I’m alright.” She swallowed a yawn. “How’s your head?”
“It’s okay.” He sat down next to her, their shoulders touching. “Thanks for asking.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m sorry I can’t help you with Nash.” Maxim reached over and clasped her hand. “You’re so giving, you know that?” He leaned over and touched his lips with hers.
God, it felt so wonderful to be kissed by him. To be surrounded by all that power and strength. His warm spicy coffee bean scent wrapped around her like a drug. He was doing that wild thing with his tongue again, the maneuver that turned her insides to mush. She pressed closer, desperate for more but a brief vision of Sam suddenly flashed through her mind. Emma pulled back, the guilt clawing at her.
“What’s wrong?” Maxim smoothed her hair gently back with his hand.
“I’m sorry. Can we take it a little slower? It’s all so fast.” Actually it all felt right. Except for Sam. Emma bit her lip. The only solution seemed to be to take things slow, one day at a time until she could figure things out.
“Of course.” Maxim’s hand dropped. “I definitely don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” Emma hastened to reassure him. The poor man had stiffened up like a board at her comment. She clasped his large hand in hers and put her head on his chest. “I love being with you, Maxim. Please don’t doubt that. It’s just there’re some things I have to work through.”
“Are you interested in someone else? Like Stewart maybe?”
“No, of course not.” She looked up, her heart clenching at the uncertainty in his eyes. “Trust me. You’re the only one I’m interested in. Charles is a good friend. That’s it.”
“Good.” Maxim let out a long breath and swung an arm around her shoulder. “We’ll take it as slow as you want. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”
“Hmm. I like the sound of that.” Emma inhaled his wonderful spicy coffee bean scent again and snuggled closer. He was so warm, radiating comfort and security, everything that she craved. The sound of his slow and steady heartbeat reverberated underneath her ear as she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 27
He’d give anything if he could spend the rest of his life with her nestled by his side like this. The incredible feeling of her soft body pressed against his, the rosewater scent from her skin, the way she breathed slowly in and out, her chest expanding and contracting…how precious it all was. He adjusted their bodies so they were lying side by side on the sofa. It was cramped but he didn’t mind so long as she was next to him.
If only he could freeze time and lie here forever with her, his arms wrapped tight around her tiny, perfect body. She’d fallen asleep with her head on his chest. She’d bestowed so much trust upon him, easily curling up against him as if they’d been dating forever and not for mere hours. So she wanted to take things slow. He was fine with that. Sure, it’d be hard not to take things to the next level with the way his body so naturally reacted to hers. But Emma meant the world to him. He was willing to wait forever if that was how long it’d take.
If only they didn’t have to keep their relationship private. It’d been agonizing to pretend she was merely Dr. Edwards to him earlier at the prison. She was so much more and the whole world needed to know it, especially Stewart.
He’d seen how the psychiatrist had behaved around Emma tonight and he didn’t like it one bit. Anyone with eyes in his head could see Stewart was interested in her. And somehow the man had finagled for them to spend time together during the CPT sessions, promising to buy Emma dinner at their next meeting. He trusted Emma. Sure, she wasn’t interested in Stewart, but why did she have to spend so much time with the man?
If only she could love him a little bit, he’d take care of the rest. He’d shower her with everything she could possibly need and treasure her as she deserved. She was lovely and honest and kind. And generous to a fault. True, she was also stubborn and maddening sometimes, but he loved all of that about her. A big brute like him didn’t deserve her but he was going to try his best to earn her trust and keep her happy. Perhaps he could leave all the
bitterness and pain of the past behind him. With Emma by his side, anything was possible.
Maxim woke up the next morning feeling happier than he’d felt in a long time. His head still hurt a little but the dizziness was completely gone. He watched Emma for a few minutes, memorizing every freckle on her lovely face. Her dark lashes eventually fluttered open and she gave him a hesitant smile.
“Good morning.” He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose.
“Hi.” She glanced at him and then away again, looking adorably shy. “How’s your head feeling?”
“Great. Do you have any plans for today?” He stood and stretched, hoping her answer would be no. He’d love to spend the day with her.
“I have to round in the prison.” She brushed a hand through her tousled hair and sat up.
“The prison? What for? It’s Saturday.” A wave of lust hit him at her sexy and rumpled appearance. She’d said slower. Slower. He retreated a few steps.
“To check on the OHU patients. Make sure they’re doing okay.”
“Oh. Good idea.” Good thing there was something to focus on besides Emma’s bewitching appearance. “I need to talk to ISU about the drugs. And I should meet with the hep C patients, too.”
“I’d start with Rodriguez. He’s the first one who got jaundiced.” Emma got up and walked into the kitchen, looking like a wood nymph just awoken from a deep slumber. She poured water into the coffee dispenser and lifted the lid to put in a filter. It was a mundane, everyday task but Maxim loved watching her do it, knowing it was the first time she made coffee in front of him, for him. He hoped they’d share many mornings like this in the future. Maybe they could try his place next time.
The morning passed quickly enough. Rodriguez, after almost half an hour of prodding, confessed to receiving a tattoo from an inmate named Greely. The other jaundiced patients admitted the same and Maxim had the pleasure of confiscating Greely’s tattoo equipment.
“Thanks for not sending him to the hole,” Emma said on their way up the hill to exit the prison.
“He got enough of a scare from me without resorting to it.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing as bad as you think,” he said, proud she’d have nothing to complain about his behavior this time. “Next time we catch him doing tattoos, it’ll be an automatic ninety days added to his sentence.”
“I’m glad you didn’t resort to violence.”
“The case didn’t need it.” He frowned, remembering his discussion with ISU. “The drug situation is harder to control, though. None of the inmates is willing to say anything, even after I offer them protection.”
“You have cameras set up everywhere now, right? I’m sure you’ll catch the dealer soon enough.”
God, to be given such trust. He sure hoped he wouldn’t blow it.
Emma suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, entranced by a small bird chirping on a branch. “Maxim, that’s him,” she said, her eyes bright as her face broke out in a grin.
“I take it that’s your blackbird.” Look at how captivated she was. He couldn’t believe he was feeling vaguely jealous of a bird.
“Yes. I named him Phineas. He’s really rare.” She gestured with her hand. “I know it’s silly but I’m always happier when I see him. He reminds me of my brother. I hope Sam can meet him one day.”
“I can arrange that. Where’s your brother? I’ll get clearance and he can come see your bird anytime he wants.”
“Uh, I don’t think that’s possible.” She lowered her eyes. “Sam’s kind of not free right now.”
“Okay. Let me know when he’s free.”
“Thanks. Believe me, you’ll be the first to know,” she said.
Maxim smiled. Yes, he’d definitely want to meet her brother soon.
Chapter 28
“A hunger strike?” Emma asked.
“Yes. The inmates won’t eat til they get what they want. Pelican Bay organized it,” Julien said. “They think thousands will join in. Last night, a lot of our Unit 2 and 3 inmates said they’re on board.”
“How many?” Kaye scowled from the head of the table.
Next to her, Maxim’s seat stood empty. He’d missed all their morning meetings this past week because of teleconferences with Sacramento. Last night, they’d talked for hours on his balcony in his lovely mansion up the hill. Emma smiled to herself, feeling all warm and tingly inside.
She was in love with Maxim; no point in denying it any longer. Her heart practically sang with joy whenever he was near. The past week had been incredible. They hadn’t met at work due to his busier schedule but they’d spent every evening together except for the couple of times when she attended CPT sessions with Sam. Maxim had been amazing…gentle, kind, tender, protective: everything she could have hoped for in a partner. And he’d been patient, too. True to his word, they’d kept it slow and hadn’t taken things to the next level. Yet. But how Emma longed for that day to come. Perhaps soon. If only she could decide whether to tell him about Sam.
Her mind was still conflicted. If she told him, he’d either have to do the right thing and separate them or he’d have to go against policy and keep them together at Albatross. How could she tolerate being away from her brother? Yet how could she expect Maxim to jeopardize his job for her? He’d be violating his code of ethics. His very integrity would be compromised. She couldn’t do that to him. But how long could she keep Sam’s secret from him? Emma sighed, no closer to finding the answer.
“Yes, all the black inmates are on strike,” Julien was saying.
“Really?” Emma tensed. What about Sam? Despite the last panic attack, her brother had actually improved in the past week. Hopefully the strike wouldn’t set him back. “So they won’t eat til they get what they want?”
“Something like that,” Kaye said. “We’re supposed to see anyone who hasn’t eaten in twenty-four hours. This is going to mess up all our schedules.”
“But we can’t let them starve.” Emma tapped her pen. “What do they want, anyway?”
“Constructive programs for those in the SHU and to end long-term solitary confinement,” Julien said.
“What’s the SHU again?” Emma asked.
“Security Housing Unit,” Julien said. “It’s the isolation facility of a maximum security prison.”
“We don’t have one, right?”
“No. It’s only in Pelican Bay and a few other prisons.”
“And what’s so horrible about it?”
“Come on, Dr. Edwards.” Kaye shook her head. “You’ve been here for a while now and you don’t know anything about the SHU?”
“The inmates are locked in solitary confinement all day in an eight-foot solid concrete cell,” Julien explained. “They get at most ninety minutes to go outside a day. And they go out alone.”
“Don’t know what they’re complaining about,” Kaye sneered. “At least they get to exercise in a yard.”
“But the ‘yard’ is not really a yard; it’s less than twenty feet long and surrounded by concrete,” Julien said. “There’s no view except for a little skylight from way up top.”
“So the rest of the time they’re in their cells?” No wonder they were striking. Emma leaned forward. “Where do they eat?”
“Everything’s done in the cell. The food trays are pushed through a little opening for them twice a day and there’s a toilet in the cell. Three times a week they’re escorted out to shower,” Julien explained.
“Do they get to see anybody?”
“The cells are all concrete with metal doors so they can’t see any other prisoner. They can’t see the outside, the sun, the trees, or anything,” Julien elaborated. “Once a week, they’re allowed a visit for an hour but they have to talk through a phone behind glass.”
“I used to work at Pelican Bay,” Dr. Parker chimed in. “The SHU is awful. The men lose their sense of identity and often break down. Many get depressed and want to kill themselves. And the wait-list for mental health is so huge
that a lot of them don’t get treated.”
“Don’t feel sorry for them,” Kaye said. “They dug their own hole and deserve everything they get. All of them are dangerous criminals.”
“Yes, probably,” Dr. Parker said. “But it’s cruel to house them like that. They’re like trapped animals.”
“So that’s why they’re striking.” The inmates had a point, but why did Sam have to be involved? He was thin already—a few days without food and Emma was sure he’d be a skeleton. “How long do you think it’ll last?”
“Not long,” Julien said. “Usually they go for a few days and then cave in.”
“Are you talking about the strike?” Maxim’s distinctive voice sounded from the doorway.
Emma turned her head, a blaze of happiness surging through her body. Ridiculous. She’d seen him last night but it seemed like forever. She smiled and ate him up with her eyes. He looked as striking as usual in a light-blue shirt, blue tie, and a pristine gray suit. His silver eyes scanned the room and stopped temporarily on her before moving on. His face, though, was remote, his eyes showing none of their familiar warmth. Emma’s smile dwindled. How could he be so good at pretending they were just business colleagues? She, on the other hand, was a jittery mess.
“Maxim,” Kaye purred from her seat. “We’re so glad you could join us. The inmates are on strike. We need your input.”
“Sorry I’m late.” He sat down next to Kaye.
The CMO gave him a warm smile and placed her hand on his arm. Why didn’t he shake it off? Charles had mentioned that they’d dated. Was he still interested in the woman? Emma looked away and tried to remind herself that they were at work. Maxim couldn’t very well come over and single her out in front of everyone.
“So how many inmates are on strike?” Maxim asked.
He barked questions back and forth to Julien and Kaye, instructing them to activate the hunger strike protocol. Then he reviewed a long list of policy updates he’d picked up from the teleconferences. The meeting dragged on and Emma had to stifle a yawn. She wanted to see how many meals Sam had skipped. None of what was being discussed was even relevant to patient care right now.