by DB Michaels
She sighed. He was ignoring her. But she couldn’t have it both ways, could she? Business was business and she’d insisted on him not hovering at work. But did he have to look so chummy with Kaye? The two talked about some changes Sacramento had implemented with the TB testing procedure, their eyes only on each other. Finally, the torture ended. Emma packed up her bag and sprang out of her seat.
“Dr. Edwards,” Maxim said. “May I see you in my office?”
“Uh, my clinic’s starting.” And Sam was waiting. “Is it important? Can we discuss it later?”
“No. I need to discuss it now,” he said.
He ushered her to his office and swallowed her up in his arms as soon as the door closed. “Maxim!” Emma laughed and shrieked between his kisses. The man was full of sweet surprises. “The door! Someone will come in.”
“Right.” He backed toward the door and locked it with one hand, all the while never letting go of her. Emma pulled out of his arms reluctantly awhile later, her body tingling all over.
“We’re so bad, you know that?” she said, straightening his tie.
“I can’t help myself.” He cupped her face with his large hands, his silver eyes aglow with tenderness.
“What about Kaye?”
“Kaye?” His eyebrows shot up. “What about her?”
“You two dated, didn’t you? Looks like she’s still into you.”
“We had one date ages ago.” He chuckled. “And I’m definitely not into her.”
“You’re not?”
“Of course not, Emma. Isn’t it obvious?”
“What do you mean?”
“I love you. How could you think I’d be interested in someone else?”
“Really?” Emma’s breath hitched. He’d said it. The three magic words. Her heart felt like it was going to jump out of her chest. “Are you sure?”
“Completely sure. Nothing will change my feelings.” A hesitant look suddenly came into his eyes. “Is it too early to say it? I don’t want to scare you off.”
“Oh, Maxim, you’re not scaring me off.” Emma wrapped both arms around him and held on tight. “I love you, too,” she whispered against his chest.
His big body tensed as he pulled back, those gorgeous silver eyes locked on her face. “Say it again.”
She did and he tugged her in for another kiss, this time longer and even more passionate than the last.
“It’s going to be tough pretending there’s nothing between us,” he said when they finally pulled apart.
“You did a good job earlier.”
“I had to. But it’s going to be even harder now. You shouldn’t look so beautiful.”
“Aw.” She nuzzled his neck with her nose. She was beginning to love his scent above all else.
“You’re killing me, Emma.” He gave her a hard kiss before stepping back. “Let’s save it for later.”
“Alright.” Emma smiled, amazed that she could affect him so easily.
“Do you need a ride down the hill?” Maxim put an arm around her shoulder. “I’m heading that way to speak to the Unit 3 captain. I can give you a ride if you want.”
“Sure, but no touching, okay? I don’t want people to start talking about us.”
“Alright. Promise. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
True to his word, as soon as they exited the office, Maxim’s arms stayed by his side. About to get into the golf cart, Emma decided to check on Phineas. Strange but she didn’t see him. He was usually out and about right now, pecking away at insects. She swept her eyes to the nearby bushes, an uneasy feeling stirring in her chest. Come on, little one. Where are you? She waited for his familiar birdcall but the air remained eerily silent.
“Maxim, can you hold on for a minute?” Emma gripped the seat handle on the golf cart. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her bones. “I need to find Phineas.”
“Your bird?” He raised his eyebrows. “But he could be anywhere.”
“No. He’s usually right here. I know it’s a lot to ask but can you help me look for him?”
Maxim luckily agreed and headed for the farthest bushes while Emma explored the grounds adjacent to the trees. A few minutes later, she spied something black at the bottom of a nearby bush. An ominous sensation prickled at the back of her neck as the uneasiness exploded in her chest. She swallowed against the rising tension and took a couple of steps closer. No! Her heart took a nosedive. That couldn’t be Phineas lying there crumpled on the ground. Not her precious blackbird. Anything but this.
But alas, it was indeed her poor blackbird that lay dying amid the dirt. A jagged scratch mark streaked his chest and his left wing was bent at an abnormal angle. His usual bright eyes were squeezed shut as his breath came in sharp, quick bursts.
No! Sam hadn’t even had a chance to meet him yet. How could this be happening? “Poor baby.” She reached out her hand.
“Wait. Don’t touch him.” Maxim crouched beside her. “You may hurt him more.”
“Okay.” Emma bit her lip, trying to fight back the prickle behind her eyes. “But we can’t leave him here. The cats will get to him. Can you bury him somewhere after he dies?”
“Sure. Where do you want to do it?”
“I don’t know.” Emma swallowed down the lump in her throat. “Just find somewhere safe. Where the raccoons and cats won’t get to him.”
“Alright.” Maxim pulled out a large white handkerchief from his pocket and gingerly scooped up the bird in his giant hand, cradling it with the utmost gentleness. Poor Phineas looked to be gasping his last breath.
“I can’t bear to look at him.” Emma’s voice cracked. “Do you mind doing it by yourself? I’ll head down the hill first. My clinic’s starting.”
“No problem. I’m sorry, Emma. I know how much he means to you.”
“Thanks.” Emma wiped the wetness from her cheeks. “I know it’s silly but don’t tell me where you bury him, okay? I don’t want to think about him lying in the ground somewhere. I want to remember him being alive and free, singing his little song.”
“Alright, darling.” Maxim squeezed her shoulder with his free hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him for you.”
Emma plodded down the hill. Her feet felt like lead. How was she going to break the news to her brother? Sam would definitely be disappointed. But he had a thousand things to worry about every day already. Especially now with the strike. Would Phineas’s death affect him as much as it affected her? She bit her lip, determined not to break down in front of her brother.
***
“Sam, are you seriously on strike?” she asked a few hours later when she finally got some alone time with her brother. Luckily the busy schedule had prevented her from dwelling on Phineas’s death. Madison and Ms. Carter had departed on their lunch break and Sam was alone with her in the Urgent Care, stacking some oxygen masks in the closet. Sergeant Peterson was stationed across the hall from the clinic at his usual desk, so Emma kept her voice low.
“Yes.” One of the masks fell down and he stooped to pick it up. “I can’t stand the SHU. They should get rid of it.”
“What do you know about the SHU?” Emma sat on the gurney and bit down on her apple. She’d decided to delay telling Sam about the blackbird. No need to worry him more when he already had the strike to deal with.
Sam threw a wary glance toward the entranceway. “I was there, Em. They sent me there after it happened.”
“What?” Her poor brother had been stuck in that horrible place? Emma almost choked on her apple. “You were in the SHU? But why?”
“They thought I was part of the PALI gang.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s the biggest African-American gang here.”
“But you were assaulted,” Emma said. “You weren’t part of the gang.”
“I’m black and they thought I was part of that drug deal with Peter.” Sam began stacking some paper masks next to the oxygen masks. “Finally they cleared me. But I was there for a c
ouple of months. I almost lost it. That’s when I stopped writing to you.”
“You should’ve told me.” Emma got up from the gurney and reached out to squeeze his hand.
Sam immediately stepped back and gave a warning shake of his head. Peterson was looking at them from the doorway. The sergeant waved and she smiled back, hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. Did he see her take Sam’s hand?
“Watch it, Emma,” Sam whispered. “You’re going to get in trouble. Don’t talk to me when he’s around.”
“Alright.” She settled back in her seat, glad the entranceway was empty again. “You’re too thin, Sam. You need to eat. I don’t think the strike is a good idea.”
“It’s not just the SHU, Emma. If I don’t do it, they’re gonna get me.”
“Who?”
“Who else? The PALIs. They rule here.” Sam gave a defeatist shrug. “You have to do what they say or else.”
“But that’s so wrong. You have to tell Custody. I’m sure they can help.”
“Nothing’s going to stop the PALIs. That’s just the way it is.” His solemn eyes lightened up by a fraction. “But it’s getting better. The K-9 units have been everywhere so the drug deals have stopped. At least for now.”
“Good.” Emma finished her apple and threw the core into the nearest trashcan. “So about the strike. How long are you going to be on it?”
“Until they tell me I don’t have to anymore.”
“So how many meals have you skipped?”
“Six.”
“That’s two whole days. Why didn’t you tell me?” Emma jumped up from the gurney and rapidly scanned him for signs of dehydration. “I thought the strike started yesterday.”
“They told me to stop eating Saturday.”
“Are you feeling okay? Sit down.” She ushered him into a chair. “Let’s get your vitals. You’re probably dehydrated. Are you drinking anything? No? Not even water?”
Luckily Sam’s vitals and exam were good except for the mild tachycardia. He definitely needed more fluids. “You have to drink some water, Sam. You’re already dehydrated.”
“No, I can’t. They said no water.” His face was set, his eyes staring defiantly back at her.
“Come on, Sam. Drink. You’re carrying this too far.”
“I can’t. They’re going to kill me if I do.”
“Sam, please.” She touched his arm. “Let me talk to Custody. Who are these PALI inmates? I know the warden. He’s really nice. I think he can help.”
“Chambers? Nice? Yeah, right!” Sam scoffed. “No way is he going to help. And you better not tell him or I’ll be toast. Nobody likes a snitch.”
With a final warning glance, Sam wheeled away the supply cart and left the clinic. Emma pulled at her locket, cursing silently. How the heck was she going to make him eat?
“Everything okay here, Doc?” Sergeant Peterson sauntered into the room, holding his ever-present coffee mug.
“Yes. Why?”
“You don’t look too happy.” Peterson’s kind eyes peered at her.
“I’m fine.” Emma forced out a smile. “Morris is on the hunger strike so I was making sure he’s okay.”
“You care about Morris a lot, don’t you?” His brown eyes never left her face.
“I care about all my patients.” Emma tugged at her pendant again. What the heck was the officer getting at? Surely he didn’t know about Sam being her brother, did he? “Sorry. I have to go to the OHU right now. Talk to you later, Sergeant.”
Whew. That was a close one. Emma breathed out a sigh of relief. She’d have to be more careful with Sam. Only speak to him during the CPT sessions, which should be coming up soon. She went to see Mr. Nash and found him thinner and weaker than before. She’d heard from Julien that the compassionate release papers were currently in the warden’s office, awaiting Maxim’s input.
Emma squeezed the older man’s hand. She had to convince Maxim to sign the papers. She’d failed before, but Maxim had been so kind and obliging the past week. Surely he could extend an ounce of compassion to a dying old man.
Later that night, Maxim hugged her as soon as she entered the door, reassuring her that Phineas had been well taken care of. He was so good to her, implicitly sharing her grief over the blackbird without reservations. How many men would do that? She’d lucked out for sure.
Dinner was a fantastic French meal of grilled seafood salad, oyster soup, and roasted lemon rosemary chicken, all homemade by Maxim. He served it on the expansive patio with a gorgeous view of the ocean as a backdrop. He wore jeans and a polo shirt, looking as striking as ever. His eyes rarely left her face, the love shining out of them quite evident to see.
She was so fortunate to have him in her life. If only he could be a tad more understanding with the inmates. How was she going to bring up Mr. Nash? Plus there was the hunger strike situation with Sam. Emma sighed and pushed the shrimp back and forth on her plate.
“What’s wrong?” Maxim put down his napkin. “You don’t like the salad?”
“No,” Emma hastily reassured him. “I mean, the salad’s great. I like it.”
“You haven’t eaten anything, and I know how much you love to eat.”
“The food is wonderful.” Emma smiled and reached over to hold his hand. “Thank you for doing all of this. You didn’t have to.”
“But I wanted to. To celebrate us being a couple.” He caressed her cheek. “To let you know how much you mean to me.”
“How much do I mean to you?” She leaned over, wanting to soak in his warmth.
“The world.” He made an expansive motion with his arm. “And everything in it.”
“Oh, Maxim.” She threw herself into his arms. “You say the sweetest things.”
He kissed the top of her head and the familiar warm tingly sensation pervaded her body. How nice to be surrounded with his love. She snuggled close, wishing she could stay in his arms forever. How wonderful it would be to spend the rest of her life with him. If only she didn’t have to worry about the prison. It wasn’t going to be pleasant what she had to say to him. Reluctantly, she pulled away and shifted back to her seat.
“Now I know something’s definitely wrong,” Maxim said. “Come on, Emma. Talk to me. What is it?”
“Okay, here goes.” It was now or never. She sipped some wine and cleared her throat. “One of the inmates told me today that he was forced to do the hunger strike. That a gang threatened him. If he didn’t do it, they’d kill him.”
“This is what you want to talk about?” he asked, his eyebrows flying up. “I thought it was about us. Something serious.”
“It is serious,” she said. “Do you think it’s true? That a gang can do that?”
“Probably.” Maxim continued slicing his chicken into neat little pieces. “Can you pass me the salt? And the pepper, too? It’s not that flavorful, is it?”
She pushed him the condiments. “That’s all you can say? Just probably?”
“What? Oh, yes. The gang thing.” Maxim twirled his wine glass around a couple of times. “There’re several gangs in the prison. As long as they don’t bother us, we don’t bother them.”
“You mean you let them intimidate the other inmates?” Emma almost dropped the glass she was holding. “My patient is scared for his life. He hasn’t eaten because he’s afraid they’re going to hurt him.”
“That’s too bad.” Maxim continued to chew his chicken. “Tell him to make a report. Name the people threatening him and we’ll take care of it.”
“He said the PALIs are making him do the strike.” Sorry Sam. She saw no other way around it. Maxim needed to know about the gang.
“That’s a good start but it’s too vague. Any specific individuals he named?”
“No, he’s too scared to do a report. He doesn’t want to be a snitch.”
“Then there’s nothing we can do.”
“So it’s either die by starvation or die by being beaten up? How can you sit there and let it happen?”
“I’m not just sitting here.” Maxim’s eyes darkened. “If they report it, we can protect them. It’s their choice.”
“But if they snitch, they can die, too.”
“Yes. That’s the way it is, Emma.” Maxim sighed. “Why are you getting so worked up over an inmate? They’re not worth it. Come on, finish your soup before it gets cold.”
“I don’t want to eat the damned soup.” Emma tossed down her spoon. “I lost my appetite.”
Maxim’s eyes widened. He was silent for a moment before he picked up his fork and resumed eating. “I spent a lot of time on that soup.”
“Sorry.” So he was upset. Who cared? She was mad, too. She might as well speak about the other matter. Things couldn’t wind up worse than they were already. “I also want to talk about Mr. Nash, the cancer patient.”
“Again?”
“He’s doing a lot worse, Maxim. Can you please reconsider? He has this cute granddaughter. She’s only eight. And—”
“My mind’s made up.”
“He killed his son-in-law to protect his granddaughter. She was being abused,” Emma said. “I don’t think his crime was that bad.”
“So he claims.” Maxim shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows if it’s even true?”
“I’m sure he told me the truth. Why can’t you believe him?”
“Because he’s an inmate. They’re always lying.”
Emma gripped the edge of the table and forced herself to count to ten. He wasn’t ever going to change. He thought all inmates were bad. He wasn’t going to help Mr. Nash. He wasn’t going to help Sam. What the heck was she going to do?
“Come on, Emma.” Maxim reached for her hand, his voice gentle again. “Let’s not fight. We were supposed to celebrate, remember?”
“Yes.” She blinked back her tears. As long as they didn’t talk about inmates, their relationship was perfect. But how could they survive when Sam made up such a significant part of her life? Was she abandoning Sam by choosing Maxim? She needed time alone to think things over.
“I’m sorry. I don’t feel very well.” Not by a long shot. “Do you mind if I head home?”
“Now? But you haven’t even eaten.”