Full Circle (Shattered Lives, Book Five)

by Rissa Blakeley

  “Let me get you a towel, then we can get you showered.”

  “Can I puke in the shower if I need to?”

  “Whatever you need. Then we’ll make Joseph clean it.”

  I lifted my lips in a smirk. While I was certain my green complexion and miserable attitude made me resemble the “Grinch”, this was the first time I actually enjoyed her personality. She seemed fun and playful, but me? Not so much.

  Laced with vomit, my breath would spoil any pleasantries. And, in no uncertain terms, deodorant wouldn’t take my stench away, as I smelled like a ten-day-old fish.

  She reached out and helped me stand. My knees wobbled, legs nearly giving out on me. I stared into her brown eyes as she did her best to stabilize me.

  “Thanks,” I said, tucking the towel at my waist after she wrapped it around my hips.

  Her lips pursed as she examined my condition. It didn’t look like GQ would be calling me anytime soon.

  “How about we get you back to bed, then I can sponge bathe you?”

  I shook my head. “Shower.”

  She lifted her brows, cocking her head to the side. “Are you sure you can stand long enough?”

  “No, but I don’t need you to bathe me.”

  “I see.” She shook her head and guided me to the safety bar next to the shower stall. After grumbling something under her breath, she started the shower before placing her hands on her hips. “Well, go ahead. Hop in. I will stand right here to make sure you don’t fall.”

  I shuffled to the door and peeled off the towel. Stepping into the shower, I pressed my palms against the wall and groaned as the hot water cascaded down my body. “Fuck… This feels so good.”

  “Such a mouth on you,” she murmured.

  I turned my head and gazed at her through the steam. “I could be as bad as Tess with all the fuck-fuck-fuck-bloody-cunt-tits-up-motherfucking-knob-bellend-cocksuckers she drops.”

  Michelle fought hard not to laugh, finally snorting and buckling over in hysterics. “I’m sorry,” she said, gasping for air, punctuating it with yet another snort, which just made her laugh even more.

  I admit it was cute. I smiled and grabbed the bar of soap, washing away my funk. After rinsing, I turned off the water. With the nurse’s help, I stepped out of the stall. She toweled me off, then wrapped it around my hips.

  “I’m going to go grab you some bottoms and a tee. Hold on tight.” She pointed to the safety bar before hurrying out into the chamber, shutting the door behind her.

  Weakness still plagued me. My breathing was heavy, my heart rate going into overdrive. I needed to sit, but the loo seemed like a mile away. Gazing at the tub, I decided to make my way to it. I let go of the bar, attempting to shuffle the three paces to the tub. A foot away, my chest felt like it caved in under the weight of a pile of cinder blocks.

  I sucked back a gasp, my legs wobbling. When the pain came, breathing became a project I didn’t have the energy to undertake.

  I panicked as the pain bloomed through my chest and to my head. My vision went blurry, then black. Judging by the ache running from my ass to my head, I had hit the floor.

  I stopped fighting and surrendered.

  After leaving Luke in the bathroom, Michelle grabbed his chart from the counter and logged in her findings, noting his erratic breathing. Between that and his pale skin tone, fatigue, and vomiting, she had a sneaking suspicion Erik and Dr. Barter would want him hooked up to monitors. Before she made them aware, though, she wanted to get him back into bed so she could take his vitals.

  She set the chart back on the counter, then reached up into the cabinets where he stowed his clothing.

  Something crashed in the bathroom. Michelle tossed the clothing aside and ran back, whipping open the door.

  “Luke!” she yelled, dropping to her knees next to him, feeling for a pulse. Her gaze darted around his body, seeing no respirations, feeling no pulse thrumming under her fingers. “Shit.”

  She ran out, propping the bathroom door open, then ran into the chamber. She triggered the emergency switch, grabbed the crash cart, and ran back in. Just as she positioned it, Erik and Dr. Barter came running in.

  “What the fuck happened?” Erik yelled.

  Dr. Barter dropped to the floor. “Vitals?”

  “No detectible pulse. No respirations,” Michelle said, handing him the equipment for intubation.

  “We need to act fast! If not…” As she gazed up at him, Erik quieted before slipping a hand into his pocket, touching his knife.

  Kneeling at his head, the doctor intubated Luke. “I’m in,” he said as he attached the bag, then repeatedly squeezed it to force in oxygen. “Erik, chest compressions. Now!”

  Erik stepped around Dr. Barter to Luke’s side, knelt, and began compressions.

  “Charge the defibrillator,” Dr. Barter commanded Michelle. She turned on the machine and spun back toward him, paddles in hand. “Continue with the bag. I’ll do it.” He reached out, snatching them from her. “Clear!” he yelled, pressing the paddles to either side of Luke’s chest. Both Erik and Michelle raised their hands, leaning back.

  Luke’s body jolted. Michelle pressed her fingers to his neck, shaking her head. “Again.”

  Dr. Barter shocked him once more.

  Again, she pressed her fingers to his neck. “I have a pulse! It’s weak, but it’s there.”

  “Let’s move him into the room so we can connect him to the monitors.”

  As Michelle stood, she continued to squeeze the bag. Dr. Barter and Erik hoisted Luke up and carried him to the bed, the towel falling from his hips. She continued to force oxygen into him while the doctor ran around, readying the machines.

  As he hooked up the ventilator, Michelle attached the heart monitor and blood oxygen sensor.

  “Get an IV hooked up and push fluids into him,” Dr. Barter said, looking at Michelle. “Did you see him beforehand?”

  “Yes. He was vomiting, then wanted to shower. I stayed in the bathroom while he did.” She pushed the IV into Luke’s arm. “I grabbed his chart, noting his respirations and general appearance.”

  “You left him alone in his condition?” Erik asked, watching the flurry of movement from the two medical professionals.

  “I came out to grab him some clothes. I figured I would get him back in bed and take his vitals so I could have a complete report for Dr. Barter. I heard a crash and went rushing back in, finding him unresponsive on the floor.”

  The doctor stood back and grabbed the chart off the counter, writing down the readouts from the monitors. “I want him on IV fluids and monitors all the time now. His vomiting lead him to dehydration and arrest. I’m going to lightly sedate him so his body doesn’t have to work too hard. First thing in the morning, I’ll make the decision as to whether or not to wake him.”

  “Do you think he will wake on his own?” Michelle asked, fussing with the blankets, dragging them up Luke’s naked body.

  “He may,” the doctor replied, unlocking the cabinet, grabbing the sedative and syringe. He readied a needle, filling it with the medication.

  “I’ll stay with him,” she said.

  “Whatever you feel you need to do.”

  After injecting the medication into the IV, he turned on his heels, dropped the needle into the sharps container, and placed the chart on the counter. He left the chamber without another word.

  Erik let out a loud breath. “Good job, Michelle. Your quick actions saved him.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered, her gaze locked on Luke’s bare chest. She reached out and touched the scarring. “I wonder what happened for him to get these nasty scars.”

  Avoiding the answer, he said, “Ask him when he wakes. I’d be interested in what his response is.”

  She stared into his eyes, trying to gauge his statement, then refocused on Luke. As the adrenalin slowed, guilt revved up. “I shouldn’t have left him alone.” She swept away a tear.

  Erik reached out and patted her hand. “It’s okay.
We saved him. He’s going to pull through this. Luke is strong and possibly the most stubborn man known to date, if not for all eternity.” Michelle nodded and pulled in a shuddering, deep breath. “Don’t doubt yourself. You’re a great nurse. I’m glad you were here to help save him.” He smiled and headed out of the chamber.

  Michelle repeatedly checked his vitals, as if she didn’t believe the medical equipment gave accurate readouts. After jotting them down one last time, she pulled the chair up to the bed and sat.

  The rhythmic sound from the ventilator lulled her, its white noise flowing through her head. It was almost comforting because it meant Luke was breathing. Alive. She stopped herself from reaching for his wrist to check his pulse one more time.

  “Stop, Michelle,” she whispered. “This is so stupid. He’s alive.”

  Michelle always struggled when one of her patients was in a critical state, trapped between the ugly worlds of life and death. Lingering in that quiet middle where either side could stake their claim.

  She thought about the young woman she nursed through life support…until her family decided to cease all measures. She would never forget that day, her first death as a medical professional, holding the woman’s hand as she slipped away.

  There were so many since then, she worried Luke would be another statistic, another dark smudge on her conscience.

  Doing her best not to invest too much in him, she stayed stoic and quiet while caring for him, sharing very little about herself. But in that moment while he showered, completely vulnerable, making a joke about Tess’s crass language, she let her guard down to a side she hadn’t seen from him before. He seemed real and much more than just a patient.

  More like a friend.

  Shaking herself, she realized she had grown too attached. Luke had a fifty-fifty chance of survival. Even less since discovering what was going on in his brain.

  She needed to remind herself being close to a patient straddling the thin line of life and death was not only inappropriate, but also unprofessional.

  “What harm would it cause if I became his friend?” she whispered, fidgeting with a wrinkle in the blanket at his legs.

  Refocusing, she stared at the steady rise and fall of his chest, glancing at the monitors again, wondering if he would wake up. Some people never did, especially those who were severely ill beforehand.

  She wished she knew all the details about Luke’s illness. There were no clues in his chart, which was loaded with vague information, along with the team’s findings.

  As Michelle leaned back in the chair, relaxing slightly, she yawned. She wished she had someone she could call and chat with to get her feelings and emotions out, maybe even make some sort of connection. At this point in her life, all she had was this job, which consisted of treating Luke’s mysterious illness and, apparently, saving his life from time to time.

  Another yawn made her jaw crack. She eased farther back into the chair, hugging herself. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she slipped into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 18

  Dr. Barter walked through the lab, ignoring Tess until she said hello. Glancing at her wild hair, he rolled his eyes, muttering, “Stupid cow.” He pressed his finger to the print reader and went into the foyer of the chamber. Before he went to the decontamination stall, he looked through the observation window.

  A sick smile spread across his lips as he watched Luke paw at his face, trying to remove the tube. He chuckled slightly and moved in front of the stall, pressing his finger to the reader. Walking in and crossing his arms, he hummed as he waited. The UV lights illuminated, then dimmed. When the door unlocked, he strolled into the room.

  Dr. Barter reached the bed and noted the nurse, Michelle, curled up in the chair on the other side. Again, he rolled his eyes.

  Focusing on Luke, the panicked expression on his face tickled the doctor’s fancy. “Good morning, Mr. Richards. How are you?”

  Luke glared up at him and grabbed at his throat.

  “Please remain calm and don’t fight it. You will only harm yourself.” Once he settled, the doctor continued. “I’m going to remove the ventilator, assess your breathing, and monitor your levels. Once I’ve decided you are well enough, I’ll remove the tube. Raise your right hand if you understand.”

  Luke raised his right hand.

  Dr. Barter leaned over and peeked at Michelle, who was still sleeping. “Maybe she will rise soon…” He shook his head as he disconnected the ventilation machine from the endotracheal tube. He pulled the stethoscope from around his neck, placing the eartips into his ears.

  Luke jolted over the chill when Dr. Barter placed the diaphragm on his chest, listening to his heart and respirations.

  After moving the stethoscope around his chest, he reached over and hit the button to start the blood pressure machine. “Good. Very good,” he murmured after the readout appeared on the display. “Okay. I’m going to suction you out, then remove the tube. You will feel the need to cough. Just go with it. Raise your right hand if you understand.”

  Again, Luke raised his right hand.

  Dr. Barter began to suction, making Luke tear up. Just as he finished, Michelle sat up with a gasp. “Well, look who’s finally ready to work today.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, standing. She gazed at Luke. Seeing his tear-filled eyes darting all around, she placed her hand on his head. “It’s okay. Stay calm.”

  “Extubating…cough,” Dr. Barter said. “Once out, suction.”

  Luke coughed and gagged, leaning forward slightly as the doctor pulled the tube out.

  “There you go,” Michelle murmured, suctioning around his mouth. “Your throat will be sore for a little while. Try not to talk too much.” She pulled an oxygen mask from the overhead cabinet. “You need to wear this for a little while.”

  When Luke nodded, she placed the mask over his nose and mouth.

  “His vitals look good. Keep an eye on them, noting any fluctuations. Let me know if there are drastic changes.”

  “Will do,” Michelle replied.

  Dr. Barter walked toward the door, pausing to look over his shoulder. “You may want to fill Mr. Richards in about what happened.”

  “I will.” She turned back to Luke, rolling her eyes.

  After Dr. Twat left, I felt less agitated, but my breathing was still a little off.

  The nurse smiled down at me. “Pace yourself. You’re doing well.”

  I nodded and let out a shudder. “Wha…,” I attempted through the ache in my throat, the mask muffling my voice.

  “Shhh.” She adjusted the oxygen mask again. When she smiled, I felt much better, like she actually cared about my welfare. I wasn’t sure if the others did, but she seemed genuine. “Let’s chat about what happened, yeah?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you remember taking a shower yesterday?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. I came out here to mark down my observations and get you some clothes. When I went back in, you were on the floor with no pulse and not breathing.”

  My eyes widened. I mouthed, Dead?

  “Dead?” she asked, cocking her head, leaving me to nod. She reached to the counter and grabbed my chart, opening it. “Essentially. We resuscitated you and brought you back in here. In the notes, Dr. Barter—”

  I held up my hand. I grabbed at my throat and, in a harsh whisper, said, “Twat.”

  She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. “Did you say twat? Are you saying Dr. Barter is a twat?”

  “Yes.” I winced.

  Her lips twitched. She did her best not to laugh, but she lost all control, belting out this full-on belly laugh. “I’m sorry, but… Oh god. That’s so true! When you said it before, it didn’t click.”

  Grimacing, I laughed a little as she swiped away tears.

  “You are something else.” Her gaze tracked down the chart. “Okay, back to the diagnosis. He noted you went into Sudden Cardiac Arrest due to severe dehydration.” She glanced up at me. “The vomiting
. So we have to keep you connected to an IV at all times now.”

  I let out a loud breath of disapproval.

  “I know you don’t want to be stuck, but it’s for the best. I would rather not have to jolt your heart again.”

  “Yeah,” I said. I cleared my throat and sucked back a hiss.

  “I know. Let me get you a little water.” She went to the sink and came back with a small cup. After pulling down the mask, she tipped it to my lips.

  Oh, fucking hell. My throat burned, but it felt amazing to have the chilled liquid running down it. I sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

  “That’s what I’m here for, Luke,” she said, smiling, pulling the mask back over my mouth. “Even these little tasks. I love my job as a health care professional.”

  I stifled a yawn, trying not to be rude.

  “How about you get some rest? When you wake, I’ll clean you up and get you dressed. Sound good?”

  Completely aware of my naked form under the linens, it made me feel oddly self-conscious. Considering she saw me in the shower, I wasn’t sure about the mental block.

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  She pulled the blankets up around me as I nestled in. “I’ll check on you in a little bit, bring you something to eat in about an hour.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered again, my eyes fluttering closed. She patted my shoulder, but I didn’t even hear her leave the room.

  Chapter 19

  The alarm rang, blaring through the flat. Erik groaned as he rolled over, shutting it off. Yawning, he stretched his spine, cracking it, then reached for his glasses.

  He hadn’t slept well, if at all. Sleep had become a luxury for Erik. He had spent most of the night going between his flat and the chamber, unsure if Luke would make it through the night. Between that and research, there was no time for anything else.

  He pushed the blankets off, shivering from the slight draft. When he stood, his boxers slipped just past his hips.

  “Hmm…” He gazed down, seeing how bony he had become. He could easily count his ribs, and his hip bones noticeably protruded. “Stress… Must be stress.” Then he saw odd bruising along his side that wasn’t there the night before. “Must be from reviving Luke.”