by DB Michaels
“What?” A vise squeezed at her chest. Was he serious? “You can’t do this. It’s not true!”
“These are the conditions of the investigation. You have to stay away from Morris. You can’t be in the same room as him. You can’t communicate with him in any way. You can’t talk with him, you can’t call him, you can’t write him,” Maxim bit out. “Do you understand me? If you violate any of those rules, you’ll be fired and reported to the board. You’ll lose your license.”
“Oh, my God.” Emma clutched her middle. The pain was searing through her stomach. She bent over and grasped the edge of the desk. She couldn’t get enough air. How could this be happening? How could Peterson do this to her? And worse yet, how could Maxim not believe her? He was supposed to be on her side. So much for his claim of undying love. Her hand slipped from the desk and she sank to the ground, feeling wounded, beaten, and worst of all, betrayed. Betrayed by the man she loved. He stood above her, all grim and silent, his face as remote and cold as a block of ice. She had to get away from him, but what was going to happen to Sam?
“Maxim, please,” she begged one last time. “At least move Morris to SNY. I promise I won’t go near him.”
“Still begging for your boyfriend? You must really love him,” he tossed out at her. “I told you I’m not moving him. Now go. We’re finished.”
Finished? How dare he dismiss her like that? How dare he believe that weasel Peterson over her? Emma lifted herself up, all her misery transformed into a burning rage. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? I hate you, Maxim Chambers. I was such a fool thinking we had something special.” She let out a bitter laugh. “Love? You don’t even know the meaning of the word. You treat the inmates like dirt. I don’t know what I ever saw in you!”
She strode away and slammed the door on his proud, arrogant, loathsome face. A thousand needles poked at her. She hurt so much she felt like she was going to crack any minute now. They were going to investigate. She wasn’t allowed to see patients anymore. And she may lose her license. Worst of all, poor Sam was still down the hill. What if something bad happened to him? She was never going to forgive Maxim for this.
Chapter 30
“Damn it all to hell!”
Maxim grabbed the nearest object and threw it as far as he could. Broken pieces of glass shattered on the floor. Pencils and pens flew in every direction. How could this be happening? He swept all the files off his desk in one violent motion, scattering papers everywhere. He sank into the armchair and grasped his head in his hands. Emma’s wounded face kept staring back at him. She’d looked so frightened, so small and alone standing there, pleading with him. For a moment, he’d wanted to believe her, wanted to hold her in his arms and soothe her worries, wanted to tell her that he was going to protect her, let nothing bad happen to her.
He’d given her a chance to explain. He’d practically begged her for any sort of explanation. Maybe for her to even say that they were old friends reuniting. That wouldn’t have been so bad. It was wrong but maybe he could have forgiven her for that. But she had lied straight to his face, had told him Morris was just a patient. When he’d known for a fact that they were so much more to each other. They were hugging in the video. And worse yet, the video had had audio. He’d heard her tell the porter how much she missed him, how much she loved him. The same words of love that had spouted so easily out of her mouth just yesterday. What a cool liar she was.
If he remembered correctly, it was the same damned inmate who’d visited her in the Urgent Care after she was assaulted. The same one they’d driven in the middle of the night to see. No wonder she’d been in such a rush to drive in that day. She’d been involved with him the whole time, even doing all those CPT sessions with him. Did Stewart know about the affair? Maxim was going to give that damned psychiatrist a piece of his mind. How dare he facilitate their sessions? Was Stewart even there during the sessions? Like hell it had been about CPT.
Peterson had said she’d tossed Gonzalez out by his ear and closeted herself with Morris today. And he’d trusted her all this time. Maxim pounded his head against the desk and let out a howl of rage.
He loved her so much it was like a piece of him had been torn off. How could she do this to him? He hadn’t believed Peterson at first. He’d told his mentor that she cared about patients, that she often put their needs above her own. So what if she was friendly with Morris? She was like that with all her patients. The sergeant had shaken his head sadly at him and then dropped that bombshell about seeing them making out. Of course he hadn’t believed the story at first. But then Peterson had played the video for him. That damned video that had shown so much. If it hadn’t been for Peterson, Maxim would still be left in the dark, ignorant of all her transgressions.
And how dare she accuse his mentor like that? Had she no shame? Or was she blindly swallowing whatever lie that bastard was feeding her? Morris probably had her wrapped so tight around his little finger that she’d do whatever he dictated. Like hell was he going to move him to SNY. Morris was going to stay exactly where he was, and Maxim was going to pay him a little visit soon.
He had to start the investigation first. Christ! His heart twisted at the implications. If they found Emma in the wrong, she’d be reported to the board. Worse yet, it was a felony to have sex with an inmate. She would go to prison. Dear God, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She was exquisite and tiny—she’d never survive prison. Who the hell was Morris? How could she throw her life away for that jackass?
Maxim buzzed his secretary and asked for Morris’s C File. He needed to find out as much as he could about the bastard before he called in the investigators. Too bad he couldn’t ask for Stewart’s files on the man as well. Those were confidential and only Morris’s doctors had access to them. The C File would have to be it for now. He was glad for something to do at least, anything to keep his mind off the miserable empty existence that was now his life.
***
Emma drove back to work the following morning, dreading what awaited her. How could Maxim believe such lies about her? Her mind shied away from him or else she’d burst into tears or veer off the road in utter rage, she didn’t know what. She parked the car in the usual spot and reached for her doctor’s bag. And then it hit her. She wasn’t allowed to see patients anymore.
She threw the bag in the trunk and discarded her white coat with it. Too bad she was dressed like a slob today. Loose black trousers and an oversized pink silk shirt. That was the best she could do. Her hair was a mess. She’d forgotten to clip it back that morning. Its thick curtain was constantly falling over her shoulders but heck, what did she care? She wasn’t going to see any patients so she could afford to look like she’d just rolled out of bed.
Emma slapped on some red lipstick but couldn’t stand the pale cheeks and hollow eyes staring back at her from the mirror. She hastily added some mascara, eye shadow, and blush. There. At least she didn’t look like a ghost anymore. She usually never wore that much makeup to work but today she needed it. She hadn’t slept all night and felt like hell.
“Good morning,” she said to everyone as she entered the conference room. Maxim hadn’t appeared yet. Hopefully, he’d never show up. She sat next to Julien and gave him a wavering smile.
The other doctors greeted her as if nothing were amiss. So Maxim hadn’t told them yet. Good. She didn’t know how she could face them with the accusations. It was so humiliating to not be trusted. Soon enough the door opened from behind her and she braced herself for more pain. She was going to ignore him, she decided. Not talk to him. Not even look at him. She kept her eyes on the table as he took his seat.
“Good morning, Maxim.” Kaye’s sultry voice again.
Emma shook her head in disgust and picked up a pen.
“Let’s start,” his loathsome voice said. “Any update from last night, Brown?”
“Updates?” A foreboding sense of doom washed over her. Emma turned to Julien and forced out her question. “Did something happe
n?”
“I got several calls. A broken ankle, an abscess that needed to be drained, and a low blood sugar in a diabetic.”
“That’s it?” Emma pressed.
“That’s it besides the assault. Let’s see.” Julien flipped through a stack of notes. “Unit 3 guy assaulted in the shower. He got kicked pretty badly and stabbed several times in the chest and abdomen. 911 came.”
All the blood seemed to rush from Emma’s head. A weird buzzing sound began in her ears. Please, please tell me it wasn’t Sam.
“He almost died. Got intubated by the paramedics and transferred to the trauma center,” Julien continued. “He went to the OR a few hours ago. I think they’re still operating on him.”
It seemed like she was standing in a tunnel. Far off at one end was a bright light where Julien was reading his report. Yet everything else was dark. The buzzing continued in her ears. Someone asked for the patient’s name. Julien answered. No! A crushing weight slammed down on her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She tried to sweep away the foggy haze covering her vision but the mist only intensified. She felt herself falling. Falling further and further into the engulfing darkness.
“Jesus Christ! Is she okay?” someone said from far away.
“She fainted. Give her some space!”
Someone was carrying her across the room. She was pressed against something solid. A frantic thumping sound reverberated underneath her ear. She took in a deep breath and inhaled the scent of coffee beans. Her body stiffened. She twisted in his arms, trying to get as far away as possible. Her eyes snapped open.
“Put me down,” she said to his hateful face.
“Not yet.” He looked a little pale and out of breath.
“Let go of me,” Emma bit out.
He placed her gently on a sofa. She glanced around and realized they were in his office. She pushed herself up but everything began to spin, so she dropped back down. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out his face.
“What is it? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice strained.
“Just go. Leave me alone,” Emma said, her body shaking. My God. Sam! What had she done? She’d trusted Maxim and now her brother was hurt. And the worst part was she couldn’t show she cared too much or else they’d believe Peterson’s lies. And Maxim was hovering over her, pretending he cared. Nausea roiled in Emma’s stomach. She opened her eyes. He was leaning over her.
“I will never forgive you,” she said.
His silver eyes flared. “That makes two of us.”
She sat up and scooted as far away from him as possible. The light-headedness swept over her again and she hastily bent over, putting her head between her legs. Get a grip, Emma. She needed to go to the hospital and check on her brother. But she wasn’t supposed to be around Sam. Maxim’s hateful restrictions flew back at her.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Emma pinched her upper arm hard. It worked. The light-headedness abated a significant amount. She slowly straightened. “Where’s everybody?”
“Brown is calling 911. They should be here any minute now.”
“I don’t need an ambulance.”
“You fainted. You’re going.”
No, I’m not. She rubbed her temple. But wait. An ambulance meant a ride to the hospital. They always took emergencies to the closest hospital, which happened to be the trauma center. Where Sam was. It was the perfect solution. She closed her eyes at the sound of sirens approaching.
“They’re coming.” She heard Julien’s voice as he got closer. “Are you okay, Emma?”
“It was only a vasovagal.” Evil Knievel’s voice. “I don’t know what the fuss is all about. Let her lie down for a few minutes and she’ll be fine.”
Probably true but there was no way she’d be left behind. She opened her eyes and clutched her stomach. “Oh my God. It hurts so much.” She hated to fake the symptoms but desperate times called for desperate measures. She lay down on the sofa again and pressed her hand to her stomach. “I’m having so much pain,” she gritted out. Mental pain but they didn’t need to know that.
Maxim’s hand gripped the edge of his desk. He was as white as a sheet. Why the heck was he looking so worried? It wasn’t as if he cared. The man probably just didn’t want her to die in his office.
“So what have we here?” The same paramedic, Garcia, she’d seen several times in the Urgent Care rolled in, his partner by his side. “Is it syncope or vasovagal?”
“What’s vasovagal?” Maxim was still gripping the desk. “She fainted and isn’t feeling very well.”
“Vasovagal is fainting when you experience something scary,” the other paramedic replied. “Like passing out when you’re getting your blood drawn.”
“Dr. Edwards!” Garcia said. “I didn’t know it was you. Are you okay?”
“I think so.” She hated to lie to the crew so forced out a reassuring smile. “But maybe I should get checked out.”
Garcia slapped on the blood pressure cuff while his partner listened to her heart and lungs. “Vitals good except your heart rate is way too high. Are you having pain?”
“My stomach.” She reluctantly let out another moan.
Thank goodness the questions soon stopped and before she knew it, Emma found herself strapped to the stretcher on her way to the hospital. The ER appeared as crowded as her first visit there. They placed her in the same stall as last time, when John had shown up at the end. John. That was it. Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? She grabbed her cell and texted him. Please let him be in the hospital. He was a trauma surgeon and of course would know about Sam’s case.
All afternoon as Emma waited for blood test results and final clearance to go, she kept checking her phone. Damn it. Had John changed his number or was he ignoring her? She hadn’t been very nice last time they talked. Her hopes dwindled toward mid-afternoon when her cell remained silent.
Finally, as she was checking out, the phone beeped. She read his text and her heart leapt. Yes. He was coming to see her. Emma camped out in the waiting room, glancing at her watch every few seconds. At last John appeared in the doorway and she rushed up, her heart hammering inside.
“Thanks so much for seeing me,” she said, half out of breath.
“No problem.” He was in full scrubs and still wearing his surgeon’s cap. “Sorry I couldn’t get back to you earlier. I was in surgery. Are you okay? I heard you fainted.”
“Yes. When I heard the news about Sam, but I’m okay. It was just vasovagal.” Emma looked around. There were people everywhere. Some of the patients could easily listen in. “Can we talk outside?”
“Sure.” John led her out to the foyer and gave her a weary smile. “Your brother’s okay. I operated on him. There was a lot of bleeding, so we had to take out his spleen. He had a few broken ribs on the right and a broken leg but so far so good. He’s one hell of a lucky guy.”
“Thank God.” She couldn’t believe it. Sam was going to be okay. Emma clapped a hand to her mouth and stifled back a sob.
“He lost a lot of blood but we managed to keep up with the transfusions.”
“Oh thank you, John.” She threw her arms around him, the tears coursing down her cheeks. “I know how you feel about him, so an extra thank-you.”
“I’m sorry about that.” John’s blue eyes were filled with remorse. “I was such a jackass, wasn’t I?”
“Well…” She bit her lip. “Yes, but it was a long time ago. I forgive you. You saved him today.” And Emma realized she spoke the truth. It was all water under the bridge, considering how she hadn’t thought about John for ages now.
“Just doing my job,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “I’m sorry I acted the way I did, Em. You know, you look a little like your brother.”
“What?” Emma smiled through her tears. “How?”
“The way your eyes tilt at the corners.” John took off his cap and brushed a hand through his hair. “Too bad I had to meet him like this. You want to go up and
see him?”
Emma relayed to him what had happened at the prison and how she was forbidden to see Sam.
“But I just spoke to your boss before I came down. He seemed so concerned. He asked a bunch of questions. I thought he knew you guys were siblings.”
“What? My boss? Here?” Surely John was mistaken.
“Yes, the guy who was with you last time. Big, scary-looking.”
“You didn’t tell him Sam’s my brother, did you?” Please tell me you didn’t. Emma dried away her tears.
“Relax. I didn’t. He looked really worried, though.”
“Yes, because it was all his fault.” Every last bit of it.
“What do you mean?”
“He could have prevented the assault by moving Sam to somewhere safer.” Emma was a little glad Maxim was suffering. She was suffering a hundred times as much.
They couldn’t talk more as John had post-op patients to round on. Before he left, he promised to keep her updated on Sam’s condition. Emma took in a deep breath and exhaled. At least her brother was okay. She had to concentrate on that. Nothing else mattered. She hailed a taxi and headed home, glad the awful day was drawing to a close.
***
From a corner of the parking lot, Maxim watched Emma depart and felt like wild horses were pulling him apart limb by limb. How he longed to hold her close. But she had hugged that ex of hers instead. How it killed him to see her in another man’s arms. She belonged to him. And only him. Why did he still love her? It made everything so much harder.
It had been petrifying watching her faint that morning. He’d almost lost it when her head had lolled to the side and she’d lost consciousness. And she’d felt so fragile in his arms, like a tiny bird with a clipped wing. Damn. She hated him, he could tell. Had he been wrong in believing his mentor over her? But the video had been so clear. What else could it mean?
Yet Morris had been beaten up exactly like she’d feared. What had she said? That Morris had snitched and was going to pay for it unless Maxim moved him. That Peterson sold drugs to the inmates. Impossible. It couldn’t be true. Yet Maxim couldn’t be too careful. He had driven in last night and seen for himself the aftermath of the assault. He’d asked questions. The officers said they’d found Morris in the bathroom, blood seeping from a head laceration with several knife wounds to the chest and abdomen.