Trevor focused on the goalie, the hulking man was braced and ready to defend against his shot. Still moving forward at breakneck speed, Trevor pulled back his stick and slapped the puck with all his might. He slowed, watching the puck as it sailed through the air, straight for the goal. The goalie moved towards it, but Trevor could see that it was already too late.
A wide smile broke across his face, the puck moving in slow motion and inches from making contact with the net. He’d done it. They’d won!
Trevor was turning to face the crowd, who was on its feet chanting his name, when a ton of bricks slammed into him. He caught sight of unfamiliar skates and the opposing team’s jersey colors a split-second before his head slammed into the ice.
He heard the crack of his helmet hitting the ice and then there was only darkness. The chanting crowd faded away until there was nothing left but a deafening silence and utter darkness.
***
Trevor came to sluggishly, looking around the unfamiliar room in confusion, his eyes blinking slowly.
A monitor beeped in his ear, the sound loud and uncomfortably piercing. The overhead light was bright and reflected off the white paint that caked the walls.
This wasn’t his first head injury and it only took a moment for him to get his bearings. He felt around in the bed sheets until he found the small remote with a single button for the nurse. He pushed it once, letting the remote drop and closing his eyes against the glare.
Why was that damn light so bright?
He heard footsteps almost immediately and smiled. Hockey players weren’t usually given the celebrity status like other sports, but in Blaine, Washington, he was big news. Nestled against the Canadian border, this tiny town of under ten thousand treated him like a movie star. He wasn’t the least bit surprised that pressing the call button had elicited such an immediate response.
“I see you’ve pushed the button. Are you awake, Mr. Miles, or was that a fluke?”
Her voice was cheery and he knew that she knew he was awake.
“The damn lights are too bright,” he said by way of explanation.
“Well, that’s easily fixed.”
The overhead lights were doused almost immediately and a single cabinet light near the door was turned on. Slowly, Trevor opened one eye to see if the pain was any better.
“That’s much better.”
He flashed his handsome smile at the nurse. A petite black woman who looked no more than twenty-seven smiled back. Her relaxed hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and her bright hazel eyes sparkled merrily when she returned his smile.
She was stunning, and Trevor was about to turn on the charm. He’d be in this nurse’s pants in no time at all. Of that he was certain.
“I’m glad. Let’s get your vitals now. How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling better now, nurse…”
He leaned forward and squinted, trying to read the letters on the nametag, but they were too small and his head was still light.
“It’s Doctor. Doctor Ferris, but you can call me Doc Abby.”
“A doctor?”
“That’s correct. Now let’s talk about your head. On a scale of one to ten, how much pain are you in?”
“At least a seven, but I’m a tough guy.” He winked at her, but she was focused on the readout from one of the machines.
“What about your vision? Can you follow this pencil for me?”
She moved a pencil back and forth, watching his eyes and frowning.
“Mr. Miles, you’re not moving your eyes. Can you move them?”
“I could, but I’m too busy checking out that fantastic rack of yours. You really should ditch the nerdy lab coat.”
Abby rolled her eyes.
“Mr. Miles.”
“Call me Trevor.”
“Mr. Miles. I’m not sure what kind of attention you’re used to, but that kind of thing doesn’t work on me.”
“What does work on you then?”
“A man who treats me with respect and recognizes that I’m probably smarter than he is and doesn’t get defensive about it. I also prefer a guy that finds more redeeming qualities in me than just my ‘fantastic rack’. I’m more than just a nice set of tits, Mr. Miles.”
“I can see that. You’re quite a spitfire. I like that.”
“Well, I didn’t get where I am today being an airheaded puck chaser.”
Her smile softened her words.
“Now we all know that you’re amazing at your job, Mr. Miles. But now it’s time for me to do my job.”
“Fair enough. So what do I need to do?”
“Let’s start with the basics.”
“Shall I turn my head and cough?”
“You never give up, do you?”
“I don’t. Is it working?”
“By working, do you mean am I dying to shove my hand down your pants? If so, then no. It’s cute and you’re fun, but I like a guy with a little more substance and a bit fewer head injuries.”
Trevor laughed even though it hurt his head a little bit. He couldn’t help it.
“What’s so funny?”
“Doc Abby. I think you just called me stupid.”
*****
Abby dropped his chart back into the hanging file box and quietly closed the door behind her. Trevor was sleeping again, a side effect of the medicine he’d been given. They typically avoided letting concussed patients sleep for hours after a head injury, but since Trevor Miles had come in already blacked out and the fact that he was lucid meant that he was able to sleep in short bursts for awhile. She would have a nurse wake him a few times an hour to make that he was alright, but other than that, rest was a good thing.
“Doc Abby,” a young nurse called as she passed by. “The CT Scan for the patient in room 410 is up.
“Thanks, Sarah.”
But Sarah had already turned the corner and was halfway down the next hall. Abby shook her head. For such a small town in a remote area, this hospital sure had a lot of traffic.
Maybe she should have stayed in Chicago.
She went to one of the many computers throughout the hospital and signed in. She pulled up Trevor’s file and results, enlarging it so she could get a better look.
She felt his presence before he spoke, noticing the way the air around him suddenly felt heavier. It wasn’t a good thing. Before she could turn, a hand rested on her shoulder and gave her a squeeze.
“Hi Abby. What are you looking at there, kiddo?”
“Doctor Bailor, I’m not a med student anymore. I haven’t been in years, in fact. Please show some respect and address me properly. Being a few years older doesn’t mean anything.”
“I’m just playing with you, Abby. And please, call me Jim. We’re all friends here, Abby, no need to get snippy.”
His voice was cold, an immediate about face from a second ago.
“I don’t care. Please respect my personal space and address me properly or I’ll be forced to bring your conduct to HR.”
“Jeez. You ask a girl on one date and suddenly she’s a raging bitch. Who would’ve thought that you’d be like all the others? I thought you were different Abby.”
“You’ve asked me on more than one date, and I’ve refused every time. Don’t act like this is a simple misunderstanding. Touch me again and you’ll see exactly how bitchy I can be.”
She stood and walked away, heading for another bank of computers at a busier station to check the results of her patient. She had less privacy, but at least Dr. Bailor couldn’t corner her alone again.
Her skin felt filthy where he’d touched her. She wanted to take a shower, to wash off the contact and the feel of his words on her skin. But she had patients to see, and a professional hockey player who was going to get bad news when he woke up again a little later. The results of his CT scan were very clear.
Trevor Miles wouldn’t survive another head injury.
Abby grabbed a water out of the fridge and a quick snack. It had already been a
long day, and she still had six hours to go. The patients weren’t going to heal themselves, after all.
***
Abby knocked softly on the door to room 410.
“Are you awake, Mr. Miles?”
“I am now, gorgeous.”
Abby smiled. He was persistent, that was for sure. But somehow, it came off sweet rather than sleazy.
“That’s Doctor Gorgeous.”
“Ah. Now we see a little crack in the armor. So tell me, Doctor Gorgeous, do you have good news for me?”
Abby pulled up a chair to face him and sat down.
“No,” her face was serious. “It’s not good news, but it’s not horrible news.”
“Well, spit it out already. No use beating around the bush.”
“You have a concussion, which is no surprise. You had a small bleed, but that is under control now.”
“That sounds like good news to me.”
“It is. But with so many head injuries comes a toll. You’re fine, right now. And you’ll likely lead a long and healthy life.” She looked at the chart, “It says here that you’re only thirty so you’ll have several good decades and probably die a mischievous old man chasing the nurses around.”
“But…”
“But, you will probably not survive another head injury like the one you sustained this time.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that you have a choice: You can choose to live a long and happy life, or you can choose to play hockey and probably end up dead or in a persistent vegetative state.”
“I’ll just avoid head injuries.”
“It won’t take a hard hit, Mr. Miles. It’s not a matter of watching out for everyone around you. Even with your helmet on and with you being careful, one crack to the head with a stick at full speed and you’re done for.”
“You don’t know that. You can’t know that for sure.”
“You’re right. It’s not one hundred percent, but the chances of you surviving one more blow-two at the most-are very slim. It’s not worth the chance, is it?”
“You don’t understand. Hockey is all I have. I’ve never worked another job in my life.”
“Have you considered coaching, training? There are a lot of things you can do that aren’t taking place on the ice. It’s really not the end of the world, you just need to make a few changes is all.”
“It might not be the end of the world to you, but to me, hockey is life. Without hockey, I’m nothing.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Abby’s tone was terse, but she couldn’t believe his behavior. How could he just give up on life over a game? “You have plenty to live for. You’re copping out. Find something else that you love that doesn’t end in you getting your brain scrambled once a week and do that. There’s got to be something in your life that you want to pursue that would make life worth living again.”
A slow smile spread across Trevor’s face.
“There is one thing.”
*****
Abby sat at the computer the next day, furiously typing and trying to get the hockey playing stud off her mind. She’d turned him down. It wasn’t right to date a patient. But now that he’d been discharged, she regretted not getting his number. He was fair game now, and she found herself more than once day dreaming about him.
She thought about looking him up, but that might seem too stalkerish. Besides, men like Trevor were accustomed to women falling all over themselves to be with them. She’d rejected him not once, but numerous times. There was no reason to pursue her when he could have his pick of eligible women that were much looser than she was.
Let’s be honest, she thought. It was probably harmless flirting anyways.
So she pushed aside thoughts of Trevor and threw herself into her work. When she got off work tonight, she had two days off and no plans aside from catching up on her sleep.
Jim Bailor slid in behind her, instantly making her skin crawl.
“Back-off, Jim. You’re in my personal space.”
He leaned down, his mouth inches from her ear.
“I’d like to be in more than that, my dear. You look lovely today.”
“That’s it. Get away from me now or I’m going to HR. This is not okay.”
He threw his hands up, face friendly and open. At least it appeared to be. Abby knew better.
“I’m sorry. You’re right.”
He walked away, giving her the space she so desperately wanted. But Abby couldn’t shake the icky feeling his presence left. Maybe she should go to HR anyway, just to write a report. That way, if it happened again, she could turn him in and they would terminate him. Or at least transfer him elsewhere.
She was about to do just that when a man in a brown uniform strode in so fast Abby was afraid the hounds of hell were trailing him.
“Abby Ferris?”
“That’s me.”
“These are for you.”
With a flourish, he pulled a large floral arrangement out of the box that protected the delicate petals from the freezing temperatures.
They were orchids and they were beautiful.
All eyes were on her as she signed for the delivery and pulled the card out from the vase.
Carefully, she opened the envelope, a little afraid that they would be from Dr. Bailor. When he came around the corner a second later, the expression on his face said clearly that he had not sent her flowers.
Abby wondered who they could be from, but she thought she might already know. She pulled the tiny card out and opened the flap.
Dr. Gorgeous,
They had nothing that even came close to rivaling your beauty, so I settled on the next best thing. I hope that this time you’ll accept my invitation to dinner tomorrow. I’ve made reservations at Chateau la Mer for six. I’ll pick you up from your place if you wish.
Call me.
Trevor Miles.
He’d included his number and a tiny smiley face that was lopsided and endearing.
Abby slipped the card into her pocket and set the flowers at her workstation. Her mood was instantly picked up. She’d let him sweat it out a bit before she texted him to let him know that she would be ready and waiting for him. She didn’t want him to know that she’d been pining over him.
“I see you’ve been cheating on me.”
The anger in his voice was unmistakable. Abby shuddered, unable to contain herself anymore. Back home in Chicago, she would have already taken this guy down a peg or two. But here in small town Blaine, she was trying to fit in. People here were more mellow and less quick to anger.
But she’d exhausted her patience with this man, and enough was enough.
And then he put his hand on her ass cheek and squeezed painfully and she came unglued.
She spun around, shoving him back against the wall. Petite and curvy, she was almost a whole foot shorter than him, but it didn’t matter. She was pissed.
“You,” she pointed at him, hazel eyes flashing in anger. “You keep your damn hands off me! I’m not your girlfriend and I’m not your friend. Don’t touch me again and so help me if you squeeze my ass one more time, I’m going to make you wish you’d never laid eyes on me.”
“You don’t have the balls.”
“Watch me.”
A small group of nurses and orderlies had gathered to see what all the shouting was about. Abby turned quickly, breaking through the little group that had gathered and heading straight for HR. She heard Dr. Bailor shout behind her, but she kept moving.
She burst into the office, shocking Ms. Carpenter. She hung up the phone and looked at Abby.
“Abby, are you okay?”
“No. Dr. Bailor is out of control and you have to do something.”
Ms. Carpenter’s expression went sour.
“So you’re not surprised? Is this something he’s done before?”
“It is, but the last time someone turned him in, she changed her story and transferred out the next week.”
“Screw that. I’m
not going anywhere. He needs to be stopped and I’m not going to run away.”
“Good.”
Ms. Carpenter slid a paper across the desk and gave Abby a pen.
“Fill this out and I’ll file it. We’ll have the board review it and go from there and-”
The door flew open, slamming against the wall so hard it rebounded.
“Ms. Carpenter, I don’t know what this woman has told you, but she made a pass at me, and I’d like to report it.” His smile was handsome and bright, the charm turned way up. “We can’t have people dragging down the professionalism here, even if it’s all in good fun.”
“Can it, Jim. This isn’t the first time, but this time you won’t be so lucky. You’re on paid leave for the next week while this is investigated. Someone will call you at the end of the week to let you know the next step.”
“What about her? Are you investigating us both?”
“No Jim. This isn’t your first offense and we both know that it’s not some story she made up. Don’t make me have security escort you out, Jim. Show some class.”
Dr. Bailor opened his mouth to argue then thought better over it.
He looked at Abby, his face scary.
“This isn’t over.”
He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
“Don’t let him get to you. He’s all talk, but no one has ever had the guts to stand up to him.”
*****
Abby was exhausted by the time she got home that night. She was slipping into her bed after a hot shower when she remembered that she hadn’t texted Trevor. Her lab coat hung by her bed, just close enough for her to reach without dragging herself out of bed.
She texted Trevor quickly, apologizing for the late hour and letting him know that she would be ready for dinner. She gave him her address and hit send before she changed her mind. Abby usually drove, but she was exhausted and she was looking forward to having someone take care of her for a change.
She was falling back into bed when the light on her screen glowed.
I can’t wait to see you, Doctor Gorgeous. I’ll pick you up at 5:30. Sweet dreams, I know mine will be.
She didn’t answer, but her smile lingered as she drifted off to sleep. Trevor was a sweet man, despite his rugged and cocky exterior. Abby had a feeling it was all for show and hid a deeply passionate and kind-hearted man.
The Crime of Protection Page 42