by S. E. Lund
She was sitting in her highchair beside the kitchen island while I worked on the counter, stirring my leftover vegetable soup and cutting fresh peaches for the yogurt. We'd spent the morning walking through the streets around the apartment, getting fresh air and enjoying the late October sunshine. There had been a break in the rain, so I wanted to take advantage of it.
I picked up my cell and saw that it was from John, Drake's bodyguard, and my stomach felt like it fell through my body to the floor.
"John, what is it?" I said, panic filling me. "Is it Drake? Is he all right?"
"Dr. Morgan is all right but he was attacked outside the courtroom by Lisa Monroe's brother. He lost consciousness for a few moments and so we brought him in to the ER at New York Presbyterian for a check just to be safe. He's feeling better, but is a little woozy."
"Does he have a concussion?"
"Yes," John said, his voice soft like he didn't want Drake to hear him speaking. "But the neurosurgeon on call in the ER said it was minor and he should be fine."
"What on Earth happened?"
"Apparently, Lisa's brother Jeff hid in a group of people outside the courthouse, waiting for Dr. Morgan to leave. I didn't see him and he cold-cocked Dr. Morgan out of the blue. Dr. Morgan, fell back, hitting his head on the pavement. He's got a real bruise on his cheek and a black eye, plus a cut on the back of his head that required stitches, but otherwise, he's fine."
"Oh, God," I said, covering my mouth with my hand. "What the hell? Why did he do it?"
"I guess he flipped out seeing Drake in the courtroom."
I had wondered if Drake should avoid the courtroom, but had thought he should avoid it more because of publicity -- not because one of Lisa's relatives would become unhinged and attack him.
"I'll come down as soon as I can. Why didn't Drake call me?" I asked, only then thinking of it. "You're sure he's okay and you're not just saying that so I don't panic, right?"
"No, no," John said. "Trust me, he's fine but he's down waiting for an MRI just to be safe. He asked me to call you and said he was sorry that you'd have to miss your session at the studio this afternoon."
"That doesn't matter," I said, shaking my head at Drake's apology. "I can go there any day. I'll call my sitter and see if she can come by on short notice. Luckily, she's a retired nurse and has a really flexible schedule."
"Okay," John said. "He should be out of his MRI within half an hour. The neurologist said he'll probably stay overnight for observation, just to be sure."
"Thanks for calling," I said and glanced around. "Tell Drake I'll be there as soon as I can."
"I will."
I ended the call and immediately dialed Karen Mills, hoping that she was home and available. The phone rang and rang, and I was almost ready to hang up when she answered.
"Hi, Kate, what can I do for you?"
"Sorry to bother you on such short notice, but Drake was attacked and is at the NYP ER. I was hoping you could come by and sit with Sophia while I go and see him."
"Oh," she said and I heard noise in the background. "I'm out shopping, but let's see... I can pay for my things and be there in fifteen minutes, if that's okay. I'm just a few blocks away from your place."
"Great, and thanks so much, Karen. You don't know how much I appreciate having you as a sitter. Seriously. I think I'd go crazy if I couldn't go and see Drake."
"Don't mention it," Karen said. "I'll be there as soon as I can. How is Drake?"
"He's getting an MRI done right now," I replied, quickly scooping some yogurt in Sophie's dish, mixing in the fruit. "Apparently, he has a mild concussion but they're doing the MRI to rule out anything else."
"Who attacked him?"
"Lisa Monroe's brother," I said and related the story of how he attacked Drake.
"I'm paying now, so I'll be there as soon as possible."
"Thanks again, Karen. You're a gem."
"I know," she said with a light laugh.
I ended the call, feeling relieved that I'd be able to go to the hospital myself as soon as possible and make sure Drake was truly okay.
While I waited for Karen, I spent the next fifteen minutes finishing lunch and then getting ready to go to the hospital. If Drake was going to be in overnight for observation, I wanted to bring him his pajamas and robe as well as slippers so he didn't have to wear the horrible hospital clothing. As well, I tucked his iPad into a backpack along with his toothbrush and fresh boxer briefs and socks.
"Well, Sophie," I said and watched her play on the floor with her toys, "I'll go see Daddy and make sure he's okay."
Karen arrived a few moments later, and when Sophie saw her, she smiled and held up a toy brontosaurus. Karen removed her coat and boots and went right over to Sophie, picking her up and examining the dinosaur.
It warmed me to see how much Karen seemed to enjoy Sophie and Sophie was comfortable with her, too. I could relax when leaving her with Karen.
"Thank you so much, Karen," I said as I pulled on my coat and boots. "I'd have to take Sophie with me if I didn't have you."
"Don't you worry about it," Karen said, taking Sophie over to the living room so she could play. "Go and look after your husband and don't worry about the time. I can make supper for Sophie and me. You can stay as long as you want."
"You're a Godsend," I said and went to Sophie, giving her a quick kiss. I sent Mike a text that I would be going to the hospital and asked if he could give me a ride. He responded that he was outside waiting with the car.
Then, I left the apartment and practically ran down the stairs to the street. Mike was already there with the car door open when I left the building.
"Hi, Mike," I said, so glad that I could rely on him to get me where I needed to go.
"Mrs. Morgan. Sorry to hear about Dr. Morgan. John called me. Dr. Morgan's at New York Presbyterian. We'll be there in fifteen."
"Thanks."
Then I sat back and watched the streets of Manhattan pass outside my window, relieved that Drake's concussion was minor but still on edge. I wouldn't feel truly better until I had seen Drake myself, looked in his eyes and heard him speak.
* * *
We arrived at NYP and I left the car and waited for Mike to join me. He followed me down the halls to Admitting where I asked about Drake's location. They'd put him on a neurology observation ward and so we made our way there. My stomach was in knots as I walked up to his room, wondering what I'd see. The ward had several rooms with beds facing into the central hall where the nursing station was located so the nurses could watch the patients. Drake was in the third room from the end, and was lying on the bed, the head raised slightly, his eyes closed. Beside his room, his bodyguard John stood, his arms crossed. When he saw me and Mike, he came over to us.
"How is he?" I asked, glancing at Drake.
"He's resting quietly. Jeff Monroe is a big man and he has a very powerful punch. Dr. Morgan had no chance to even prepare for it. It knocked him out immediately and he fell like a stone, hitting his head. We're lucky he wasn't hurt even more than he has been."
"Poor Drake," I said, my throat tight.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Morgan," John said, his voice truly sorrowful. "I let him down. I didn't see Monroe because he came out early and was standing in a group of pedestrians. I didn't know he'd threatened Dr. Morgan."
"He did?" I asked in shock. "When?"
"He said something to Dr. Morgan when he left the courtroom a few moments before the court was recessed."
"Is Jeff Monroe being charged with assault?"
"Yes," John said, nodding his head. "Police took him into custody."
I took a good look at Drake's face through the window and my heart skipped a beat. Jeff Monroe had hit him hard and his eye was blackening, the tissue around it and on his cheek bruised and red. Drake had a bandage on his head and his arms were on top of the covers. He looked peaceful and I wasn't sure if I should wake him so I went back to the nursing station and waited for one of the nurses to come over
to me.
"I'm Kate. Morgan, Dr. Morgan's wife. How is he?"
She gave me the once over, probably expecting someone who looked less like a disheveled mom and more like a wealthy urbanite, given Drake's wealth.
"He's fine," she said dismissively. "We're watching him for twenty-four hours to be on the safe side."
"Can I wake him up or should I let him sleep?"
"Up to you," she said and turned back to her work. I wondered why she was being so short with me. The ward didn't seem particularly busy, but maybe she was just stressed at being responsible for neurology patients. Maybe she didn't like having two big burly bodyguards cluttering up the hallway.
That, or she had an opinion on Drake and it wasn't good.
"Thank you," I said pointedly, but she didn't respond. I tried not to let it get to me. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe I was being too sensitive.
I went back to the observation room, to find that John had left. Mike had taken a chair from the hallway where several were stacked, and was sitting outside Drake's room.
"You're standing guard, are you?"
He nodded. "Yes, ma'am. John took a break while we're here."
I sighed and went inside the small room, sad that Drake and I were in such a predicament that both of us needed bodyguards.
I went closer to Drake's side and watched him quietly for a moment, trying to decide if I should wake him or just let him sleep. I decided to wait to wake him and took the chair by the side of the bed, moving it as close as I could, trying hard not to make too much noise. While I waited, I gazed at him -- at his face and body.
His face was pale against the pillow, and the paleness made his bruise and scrape appear even worse. I played the scene over in my mind of Drake getting punched by Jeff Monroe and it made me tear up to think of how much I loved Drake at that moment, my heart swelling as I listened to him breathe. We were all so vulnerable to those who might hate us. One moment, we're alive and vigorous and the next? Harmed, possibly near death, our lives at risk.
I had never felt in danger before Lisa attacked me and was a bit dismissive when Drake first suggested we get a security team to provide us with protection. While Lisa worried me, I never imagined she would actually harm me. I'm sure Drake felt the same about Lisa's brother, but if there was one thing I had learned, it was that people were unpredictable. You really couldn't know what they might be capable of.
I felt thirsty so I left Drake's room and spoke with Mike. "I'm going to the cafeteria to get a cup of tea. Can I get you something?"
He shook his head. "I'm fine. Just finished lunch when you called."
I left the ward and made my way down to the cafeteria to get a cup of fresh hot tea. While I was there, I picked up a muffin and then went back to the ward, not wanting to leave Drake alone for too long. On my way back, I passed the small gift shop and thought I'd stop in and buy some flowers for Drake's room. He'd only be in overnight, but I thought it might make him feel better to see some flowers. Of course, as I was checking out the various arrangements, I saw a television perched above and to the side of the cash register. The television was tuned to a local news station and on the screen was a picture of Drake lying on the sidewalk, plain clothed police restraining Jeff Monroe, while John bent over an unconscious Drake. It made my gut clench to see how vulnerable he looked and what a scene he'd been in. The headline read, "Brother of accused killer attacks her ex-lover." I could only imagine the gossip tabloids once they got hold of the story.
I went back up to the ward and saw that Drake was still asleep, so I tiptoed quietly into the room and sat back down by his bed. I sipped my tea and while he slept, I remembered I needed to send a text to my father and Elaine to let them know what happened to Drake and how he was doing, not wanting them to find out from the news reports they would see on television. I only hoped that they hadn't already seen the story yet, but if they had, I was sure they would have called. It would still be a shock but would be worse if they saw it first on television. I didn't want that. I sent a text to my dad, just in case he was snoozing, as he often did just after lunch. I didn't want to wake him up in that case.
KATE: Just a quick note to let you know that Lisa Monroe's brother Jeff attacked Drake outside the courthouse at noon when the court had been recessed. He's got a mild concussion and is at NYP overnight for observation. I'm here now and he's fine.
My father texted me back right away, so he was awake.
ETHAN: So sorry to hear that, sweetheart. My God, what happened to his bodyguard? I thought Drake hired a security firm to provide you both with security.
KATE: Monroe hid in a group of people and attacked Drake just before he got in the car. It wasn't John's fault.
ETHAN: Well, you give Drake our love and keep us posted about how he's doing.
KATE: I will. Love you.
ETHAN: Love you back XOXOX
I put my cell away and sat back, content just to watch my husband while he slept.
For the next fifteen minutes, I sat by Drake's side and read my texts, checked my email and scanned my Twitter feed. When Drake finally stirred beside me, I put my cell away and waited for his eyes to open.
Drake
The punch came out of the blue. I never saw it coming and it hit like nothing I'd ever felt before. One moment, I was focused on getting to the vehicle to go back home to Kate and Sophia and the next, I felt someone grab my shoulder and jerk me around and then...
BAM.
I woke up, lying on my back, my eyes still closed. Around me, I heard shouting and a searing pain ripped through my head. When my vision cleared, my bodyguard John and Lisa's brother Jeff wrestled each other above me.
"I'll get you, you sonofabitch," Monroe shouted. Two plain clothed police officers at the courtroom for testimony intervened, the men grabbing and then holding Monroe back while John bent down to check me out.
"Are you okay?" he asked, peering down at me. He held up his hand in front of my eyes. "How many fingers?"
"Two," I replied, seeing them despite the wooziness I felt. "Vision's a bit blurry though."
"You may have a concussion," John said, shaking his head like he was angry with himself. "Please stay where you are. An ambulance has been dispatched."
As a neurosurgeon, I knew more than enough about the human brain to realize that I should lie still and wait for trained paramedics to arrive who would do a neuro assessment before moving me. I had an intense pain in my head though, and touched the back of my head to feel wetness. It was either from the street or, more likely from the viscosity of the liquid, it was my own blood. I reached my hand up to my eyes and sure enough, they were stained red.
"Damn," I said and showed John. "I've got some kind of cut. Do you have a first aid kit in your vehicle?
"I do," John said and jumped up, rushing to his car. The police dragged Monroe off and a crowd of onlookers gathered to watch my ordeal.
John returned and rummaged through the kit, finding some bandages, which he opened. He turned my head gingerly so he could apply them to the injury on the back of my head.
"My apologies, Dr. Morgan," he said, his voice angry with himself. "I didn't recognize him as a threat. He was with a group of people and peeled off at the last second when he was beside you."
"No, that's okay," I said, touching my cheek. "I didn't see him either. We never thought of him as a real threat in our briefings. His name never came up. You weren't in the courtroom, so you couldn't have known he threatened me."
He shook his head again. "Still, I could have been more situationally aware. My apologies."
I waved my hand, trying to allay his concerns. It was an ambush that none of us were expecting.
The ambulance drove up just as John was wrapping gauze around my head to hold the bandage in place. The EMT came over, his kit in his hand, and got a report from John.
"The patient is Dr. Drake Morgan. He was attacked and fell onto his back, hitting his head on the sidewalk. He was unconscious for about two mi
nutes but is now conscious and is oriented to time and place. He's bleeding moderately from a cut, and has some bruising on his cheek."
"Thank you," the EMT said and took over, kneeling beside me. He did a full assessment, asking me questions while the other EMT applied a portable BP monitor and flashed a pen light into my eyes to gauge any neurological impairment.
"That's going to need stitches," the EMT said to me. "If you were unconscious, you should come into the ER for assessment and observation."
I agreed and they brought over the gurney, assisting me onto it. It felt strange for me as someone who was usually on the other side of the gurney to become a patient instead of the one who treated them. I was so used to being the one in control, the one making decisions about a patient's treatment, not the one being controlled and treated. I tried to take a back seat and let them do their jobs.
"Can you call Kate?" I asked John before the EMT closed the ambulance doors.
"Will do, Dr. Morgan. I'll let Mike know as well."
John drove behind the ambulance to New York Presbyterian and followed my gurney to the ER, waiting outside my room while I was examined by the ER nurse and doc. They called in the neuro who was on call, who luckily was in the hospital at the time checking on patients. Dr. Poindexter came in, wearing his white lab coat, his name stitched onto his pocket, and regarded me over a pair of reading glasses.
"Dr. Morgan," he said, a smile on his face. "Fancy meeting you here."
I managed a smile, remembering him as a joker in the first degree. "Yeah, not my usual role in NYP."
He then did a full neuro exam, and after talking through what tests I'd have, he left the room and the nurses finished their own ministrations. For the next hour, I spent time in various hallways waiting for the exam, and having blood work taken. Finally, I was moved up to the neurology observation ward and after getting checked over by the nurses there, I closed my eyes and tried to rest.
Sometime later, I woke, my eyes opening and slowly focusing. Beside me sat Kate, her face pale from worry, her eyes warm.