by Jill Cooper
I gripped the doorknob, but I just couldn’t open it. It wasn’t locked or stuck, but instead I couldn’t will myself to yank it open. I stared at the solid brass knob and knew on the outside was something harsher than an Idaho winter.
Humanity. People.
Today was harder than most at the idea of facing them because it was the first Monday of the month. Mondays were always hard, that’s what people always joked as they went to their silly jobs sitting behind a desk. Typing on a computer, rat-tat-tat, but they don’t know what I do.
They don’t know that on any given day I head out to work and that might be the day someone dies because of something I did.
Or in the case of baby Mitchell something I didn’t do.
****
Clusters of people gathered inside the bay of the hospital. My cheeks were flushed pink and even with the scarf wrapped around my mouth, my skin was chilled. I stomped off my boots and beneath the confines of my scarf I gave a brief smile to the receptionist. Betsy, or something like that, was her name.
She barely paid me mind as I crept past except for a quick peer up over her glasses. My bones chilled at what she must be thinking or saying beneath her breath.
There she goes. Baby killer.
It wasn’t my fault, my ex-boyfriend tried to convince me. It was Dr. Savage who stunk like whiskey, but I let her perform that emergency C-section. I’m the one that didn’t intervene when I should’ve stopped her.
Might as well have been me who snuffed out that baby’s life.
Everyone else thought it, even if Jay didn’t agree. Paranoia and delusions were the words he used, like he was a therapist. I was better off without him. Better to wallow in guilt so thick it consumed me like thick sand. I’d never be free and I didn’t deserve to either.
In the locker room, I hung up my jacket and slipped my boots off in favor of my white sneakers. A set of eyes peered at me from a few lockers away. Nurse Jenkins was a regal mighty woman and not someone I wanted to cross. So I pinned my badge to the collar of my shirt.
Time to get on the floor and do my job. It’s what I was good at, right? The only time all the grief and self-doubt faded away.
On the second floor delivery wing, I checked in at the nurse’s station. I was a few minutes early so I checked my name on the big wipe board to see who I was taking over for and which patients I’d be responsible for. Gathering up some charts, I turned and almost immediately ran into Sylvia Savage—former head of OB and gynecology.
Tripping over my tongue, I could barely speak. “Sorry,” I muttered and ducked my head down to scoot past her.
Her brown eyes glazed out, her brown hair fluffed perfect around her shoulders. When her hands went for their pockets, I saw a light tremble in them. She wasn’t drunk. No, not this time, but she wanted to be. Her body was jonesing for it.
She promised she’d give it up if I helped her out one time. Promised it would never happen again.
“You all right, Karen?” Sylvia asked.
I nodded because I couldn’t speak.
“Good,” Sylvia picked a chart off the station and flipped through the pages. Her eyes scanning the document. “Can I help you with something, then?”
Licking my lips I knew it was time to say something—or stay quiet forever. “I just thought…maybe. We should…talk?” If she was still drinking, I needed to know. If she was putting patients in jeopardy again, I needed to find out. It couldn’t be permitted again. It just couldn’t.
Sylvia gazed up. “Tomorrow. Not today. My shift is ending and I’m dying for some sleep. With the storm out there, I have to pick the kids up at their father’s.”
Ex-husband. Sylvia didn’t say that, but everyone knew he left after what happened to baby Mitchell. Everyone might have bought Sylvia’s story that she followed procedure. She knew what she was doing, everything was text book, but I wasn’t the only one who knew the truth. I think Sylvia’s ex-husband knew too.
Which meant he was just as guilty as we were.
“Good, tomorrow? Cafeteria?”
Sylvia nodded and slinked away, her head down. If she was nervous about talking to me, she hid it well. I was no hero. I didn’t pretend to be, but if I could at least get her to stop drinking once and for all—and save all the future babies—maybe I’d be able to sleep better at night.
Maybe.
And if she wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Maybe it was time to go to the hospital board. Give them the evidence I’ve been hiding so justice could be served, even if it meant in the end I’d lose my job too.
Chapter 3
Sylvia
She wasn’t an alcoholic. Sylvia could stop whenever she wanted. She gulped the whiskey down, careful not to choke on her joke.
Being the top of her class in med school didn’t lend to the idea that she was stupid.
She could own alcoholism – as long as it was private and no one knew.
But some people already guessed at her triggers. In that place between her second and third Seagram’s 7&7-Up, she could acknowledge she didn’t have as much control as she liked to think.
Karen…the little uneducated twit. Who did she think she was? She couldn’t demand to talk to Sylvia about anything. Sylvia was a doctor. Karen was just a nurse and hadn’t had the schooling Sylvia had—how dare she second guess her all the time. Not to mention, Karen had been paid for her silence. What did she think this was? A salaried position?
And anyway, Sylvia had been exonerated of all charges. Cleared of all guilt. It was nobody’s business who she’d had to screw to get things taken care of.
If Karen wasn’t important, then why did Sylvia’s palms sweat just thinking about anything Karen might have to talk about? The girl was a watcher.
Observations weren’t a good thing for someone like Sylvia.
She twisted the lid open and shut on her hip flask. She needed another drink, but…she glanced around her empty office. Even the blinds were closed.
No one would see.
No one would know.
She didn’t sip. She chugged, slamming back as much as she could of the last of the eight ounce container. Her day must be ending–the bottle was almost empty.
Knock.
Knock.
A charge nurse, her name escaped Sylvia, opened the door and nodded. “Doctor, the rest of the appointments have canceled because of the weather.”
A boon. Sylvia smiled. “Thank you. Let’s close up then. I’ll do rounds.”
“You don’t have any patients admitted.” The nurse knit her eyebrows. “You just discharged the last one an hour ago.”
Right. Sylvia’s smile tightened. “Of course. Thank you.” She wouldn’t apologize or make excuses to a nurse. Any nurse.
Without another word the other woman left, closing the door.
Sylvia would leave early. Go get the kids. Her ex hadn’t only known about the drinking but he’d guessed at her affair. Well, guessed until he found them on her office desk. She hadn’t fought hard for the children. Their father was a better parent. She was never too drunk to see her failings–no matter how hard she tried.
Tried to drink them away, but it never worked. She just ended up in an endless loop of drinking—failings. She picked up the earpiece and dialed his cell from memory. He picked up on the third ring.
“Dylan.” Sylvia licked her suddenly dry lips. She cleared her throat. “I’m off early. Do you think I can come get the kids before…the time?”
“Sylvia.” His slow drawl never failed to penetrate the alcohol fog with disapproval. He waited a drawn-out moment. “Look, I’d be fine with that, but they aren’t home yet from my mom’s in Seattle. Snoqualmie is closed from the blizzard and she’s hunkering down with them at her house until everything blows over. Sorry.” But he wasn’t. He never was.
He hadn’t been sorry for anything since he’d barged in on Sylvia screwing Judge Condran.
Yeah, she didn’t blame him.
“Um, okay. It’s my time thou
gh.” She only half-heartedly cared. Part of the unwritten but clearly spoken conditions to her having the kids involved her not drinking while they were around.
Period.
With Karen breathing down her neck, Sylvia didn’t need more boundaries at the moment. What she needed was more Jack and Jim.
“We’ll trade later or something. I’ll let them know you’re–what? Sorry to miss them?” He laughed and hung up.
Sylvia bit back the retort she’d never say. He was right. She wouldn’t miss them. Not like she should. Sylvia wasn’t “good people” and she knew it. Dylan took care of their children and didn’t ask for any money or anything, even though he could’ve taken her for everything and then some.
Thrumming her fingers on her desk, she stared at the wall of the outdated awards and certificates. When had she lost her ambition? Her drive? About the time she started seeing Condran.
She wasn’t in control of much, but with him, she controlled everything. She punched in his number on the phone.
“Sylvia.” His smoke-hardened voice did nothing for her. No matter how much she drank. But when he took her orders like a well-trained dog, she got more than wet. At least he helped her feel something–lust mingled with power. Almost headier than an expensive rum. “There’s a present here waiting for you. Just the kind you like.” His smokey voice crackled with laughter. “Expensive and dirty.”
Presents. Just what she needed to keep her mind off of things. “I’m coming over. Get the tools ready.” She didn’t want a conversation with him. She wanted her boredom to disappear along with her worry. She couldn’t wait to make him do what her ex never would’ve.
Chapter 4
Condran
The snow was coming down hard. That wasn’t the only thing that was hard. No, Justin Condran, Chief Justice, in his little corner of the world, was primed, ready to go. First, though, a drink.
He poured a whiskey for himself and one for Sylvia for when he was done with her.
The bedroom was spacious and like the rest of his home estate, everywhere gleamed with dark wood and accents. Deep, plush, red rugs, to him a sign of royalty, littered the floor. Regal. Perfect for a man who had enough power to run this little backwater town. Truth was, he could’ve moved on long ago to LA or even NYC, but then he’d be a small fish.
Here, he was a big fish. Big fish in a small pond, eating all the small. The weak. Just the way Justin liked it.
“How long you going to take?” Sylvia’s voice twanged on.
Justin picked up his glass, the ice cubes rattling around against the crystal. He took a long drink and the heat intensified down his throat. “I’m enjoying the view.”
It was true. Sylvia was kneeling on the custom stockade he had made just for her. The cushions for her knees and the upper brace where her breasts rested were made of red leather. Her arms and head dangled through the wood holes and he kept her cuffed so she couldn’t struggle.
He bet she could barely breathe the way the corset was cinched around her waist. Damn, she was a fine piece of ass.
That fine ass was tight in a pair of latex panties that he couldn’t wait to gnash off with his teeth.
A drunk, sure, but that just made her more fun and more open to the power of—suggestion. Maybe she didn’t care about her job anymore, or even her kids, but that was okay with Justin. The more rock bottom she hit, the more she liked to be spanked. The more she liked a lot of things good little women just didn’t.
All perfectly fine with him. Wives were good to take to business parties, looking respectful and keeping the home running. You didn’t have fun with a good little woman in bed. That’s what sluts were for. Drunk sluts, even better.
“I won’t beg,” Sylvia said. “If you don’t feel like playing, then get me the hell out of this thing.”
“And if I won’t let you out, Doctor?” Justin was by her side with a few long strides. He caressed her hips, enjoying how smooth her skin was. He reached for the paddle board resting at her feet. Her ankles were cuffed together and her delicate toes were crammed into painful little ballet boots that no one could walk in.
Not unless they were trained in the arts. They weren’t made for walking.
They were made for pain. Sylvia liked pain.
Sylvia bit her lip. “Say it again.”
“Doctor,” Justin pulled her hair to the side and whispered against her ear. He spanked her with the paddle in a short, powerful burst.
Sylvia moaned, her beautiful face set like stone, but Justin could make her cringe. He was just building up to it. Turning her like puddy in his hand made him rock hard and he just wanted to enjoy the experience.
He spanked her again, making sure he got the same spot on her plump little rump. With more power, more force until Sylvia’s head bobbed down and she gasped in pain—nearly breathless.
Justin caressed her panties and thought it might be time. She was bent over already. He was never one to waste a moment of opportunity and he wouldn’t let this one pass him by. Sensually and with growing desire, he rolled them down.
Sylvia lifted her head. “Not going to let me off early for good behavior?”
“Honey, you’ve been a very bad girl.”
“Don’t call me honey. I told you, no pet names. This isn’t love, Condran.”
Justin gripped her hair and pulled her head back as far as the stockade would allow. “But you love the power, don’t you? The jewels, the expensive gifts, what my power can get you?” He gritted his teeth and licked up her neck.
“Chief Justice,” Sylvia moaned as Justin pushed her head down.
That was it. That’s what he liked to hear. Loved to hear it so much, Justin unzipped his pants. This was going to be good.
Maybe it wasn’t about love.
Maybe it was about something other than the human condition. Whatever it was, Justin couldn’t get enough.
****
“Do it again,” Justin gritted his teeth. Strung up like a fish between his bed posts. Sylvia had his nipples tethered with electrical nipple clamps. Something he had bought on the internet. He hadn’t expected the jolt to be so much. So bad.
So arousing.
She was sitting back on her heels, tilting the glass full back against her lips. Her waist was cinched so tight, she looked like an hourglass. Justin was desperate to ravage her but handcuffed to the bed didn’t allow for much foreplay, and Sylvia was a tease.
He liked that about her. Liked a lot of things about her. None of which had to do with her personality but you couldn’t have everything in a sex mate.
Sylvia slid the glass onto the end table and rolled her head side to side. Her eyes were lidded and her words slurred. Justin kept giving her what she loved—drinks and pain. Watching her made him feel like a teenager again. She was far out of his league looks wise, but he wasn’t ugly.
Growing older. Gaunt face, but powerful blue eyes. They could command a town.
Sylvia’s hands stroked the diamond choker she wore.
“Like it?” Justin licked his lips.
She nodded and her hand hovered over the switch of the electrical discharge device. “I love it almost as much as I like watching you squirm.”
Justin’s eyes squeezed tight as the current of electricity swept through his nipples and down his body. His limbs tightened and his fists clenched. Fighting the urge to scream was too much and by the time Sylvia released the button, his heartbeat raced rapidly.
“Sylvia, what the—.”
She straddled him and gripped his ribcage with her hands. “I know what I’m doing…I’m a doctor. I could’ve brought you back.” She laughed, a mean-spirited smile on her face.
Dirty, angry girl. She got pleasure in torturing him as much as she loved to be tortured, but something about Sylvia was off that night. She was more mean-spirited than usual. “Where’s your mind tonight? Something got you worried?”
Sylvia sneered and grabbed for the electrical zapper. “You think you know me so well? You
don’t.”
“Wait,” Justin’s eyes opened wider, “Sylvia…”
“Doctor.” She corrected and pressed the button hard. Biting on her lip with expectation.
Justin screamed, his back arched and he panted through the pain.
“Say the safe word, your honor, if you want this to end.” She hovered low, her lips right above his.
Justin shook his head. Never. He never wanted it to end. She was his drug in same way booze was hers.
Sylvia laughed, her lips barely touching his before she sat up straight again. She wouldn’t kiss him. Never would. It was part of the agreement. She didn’t want that kind of closeness, and Justin could see why. Broken girl needed some mending, but Justin didn’t want to stitch her back together.
It might end the fun.
“It’s that little bitch nurse,” Sylvia admitted. “She wants to talk tomorrow.”
That caught his attention. Alarm bells went off in his head. “About what?”
Sylvia shrugged, her fingers tracing his body beneath the sheet. He shuddered at her touch. “That dead baby? Terri? I don’t really know.”
“This better not be about the blackmail money.” Shit, if Karen could connect him to Sylvia, Justin’s career could be over. He was sleeping with Sylvia before the trial. He dismissed the charges, just the implications of that…not to mention the thousands of dollars he gave Karen…
His career wouldn’t just be over. Justin could go to jail and that was no place for a man of his stature. They said no one was above the law, but that was a bunch of bull.
Bull.
“I said I don’t know, Condran.” Sylvia rolled her eyes. “But if she does and goes to the board, I’m through.” She reached across his body for her glass. Her hand shook as she poured more whiskey into the snifter.
Like that was the worst thing that could happen? “Is that all you can think of? Yourself?”
Sylvia’s eyes pinched together. “I have a house. Need money. I’d be embarrassed. Need to move away. Maybe I could raise chickens or something.” Sylvia laughed as she gulped down more whiskey. “Chickens, me, the baby killer.”