Rachel frowned. He didn’t have the authority to—
“I’ve already spoken to the director of nursing and the assistant administrator. They concur with my decision.”
Rachel took a deep breath. If she showed any distress, any emotion, this would be over. “Doctor Moeller, I’m positive I didn’t make any mistakes with the medications.”
Dr. Moeller simply shook his head, turned, and walked out of the room. He was done listening. Rachel didn’t follow. She stood unmoving, staring at David’s covered body, a growing lump in her chest soon encompassing her entire body. The lump rose up in her throat and grew larger, making swallowing difficult while she furiously blinked back tears. What the hell? The tears flowed over, and she took one hesitant step toward David, then another. She didn’t make a mistake. She didn’t! Lifting a trembling hand, she placed it gently on David’s chest, a soft sob breaking the silence. Even though she was confident she wasn’t the cause of his death, she apologized to the EMT. “I’m so sorry, David. So sorry . . .” How could this have happened? Not to smiling, cheerful, confident David. He just had a couple of fractures! Serious fractures, sure, but not life-threatening. Even with his concussion, he’d been stabilized. She couldn’t imagine that this active, strong, confident man was gone, lying on an autopsy table in the hospital morgue. No more marathons, no more weeklong trips to the coast to surf, no more dreams of hiking the Appalachian Trail.
Gone. Simply gone. Here one minute, gone the next.
With a groan, she lifted her hand and roughly brushed the tears from her cheeks, looking up at the ceiling, as if able to see upstairs, still bustling and busy and . . . what was happening? While she knew the lives of first responders were always on the line, what had occurred within the past forty-eight hours was just too much. Her thoughts immediately went to Jeremy and the dangers he faced out there . . .
She reached into the leg pocket of her scrub pants and pulled out her phone. She shouldn’t call him, not now, he was busy, but she needed to hear the sound of his voice, even if it was only a second or two. She looked at her screen, surprised to find that she had a single bar even down here in the morgue. The morgue . . . she pushed her thoughts away from this place, just for a moment . . . Rachel accessed her contacts and tapped the call button and lifted the phone to her ear with a trembling hand, convincing herself that she would be satisfied if she even accessed his voicemail message. Just to hear the sound of his voice . . . She swallowed another sob, determined—
“Rachel, you okay?”
The sound of his voice when she wasn’t expecting it shocked her. Pleasantly. A safe haven in a storm, a rock, just sound of his voice calmed her.
“Rachel?”
“Jeremy,” she choked out. She swallowed, tried again, but he spoke first.
“Rachel. What’s happened?”
“It’s David,” she replied, her voice shaky, a shudder running through her as she stared at the sheet-covered corpse. “He’s dead.”
“Dead?! I thought he was doing okay!”
“Jeremy, I don’t understand. Doctor Moeller thinks I made a mistake passing meds—”
His voice turned sharp. “Rachel, listen to me. Where are you now?”
“The morgue . . . the autopsy room. With David.” She took a deep breath. “Doctor Moeller suspended me from the ER, and I can’t go near any of his patients. I’m supposed to stay in the physical therapy department, but—”
“I’m coming to get you. We both need a break. I’ve got a few hours and then I’ll come back on duty. We’re taking turns. Can you leave for a little while? Take a shower, change clothes, get something to eat?”
“But my apartment . . .” She tried not to allow the tears to fall again, to start feeling sorry for herself, to wallow in self-pity. “I don’t—”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes. The bulldozers have been clearing the roads. Some roads are still tricky, but my truck can get through them. Wait for me. You can take a shower at my house. Get something to eat.”
She nodded, her gaze riveted to the sheet covering David’s body, the energy sucked from her body.
“Rachel, meet me outside,” he repeated. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. You hear me?”
She nodded again, then mumbled a yes, and then the call disconnected.
She placed a hand on David’s shoulder, again a hot flood of tears brimming in her eyes. “You rest now, David.” She tried a tremulous smile. “You find a nice trail up there to hike and know that you’ve been loved and you’ll be missed.”
With that, she abruptly turned, swiping furiously at the tears on her cheeks. She took the stairwell up to the main floor. She didn’t want to bump into anybody in elevators, especially Dr. Moeller. How could he accuse her? It seemed to her that he’d had it in for her since the moment they’d . . .
“You okay, Rachel?”
Rachel startled when the door to the stairwell on the first floor opened and Dalisay walked through. “No. David’s dead,” she mumbled.
Dalisay’s eyes widened, her mouth open in shock. “What happened? I was just on that floor a little while ago, and everything was fine.”
“I don’t know for sure,” Rachel said. “I’m going to go home for a little while, take a shower, eat something, and then I’ll be back. If you need anything, you can find me in the physical therapy department when I get back, okay?”
Dalisay nodded, placed a hand on her shoulder, and gave it a comforting squeeze. No words were needed nor necessary. Death affected them all in the hospital. They were here to save lives, and yet they also knew they would often lose them. They did their best, but they were only human.
Dalisay continued upstairs to the next floor while Rachel stepped out of the stairwell and into a corner of the main floor lobby, numb with shock. Her hand still wrapped around her phone, she dialed another number: the respiratory therapist that often worked with her in the Physical Therapy Department. After four rings, a harried voice answered.
“This is Leslie, how can I help you?”
“Leslie, it’s Rachel. What’s it like in there?”
“Dead as a door nail,” Leslie replied. “All my patients have been rescheduled, and things are finally starting to calm down. The overflow patients that were brought here have already been taken care of elsewhere.” A pause. “I’m going to hang out in PT for the time being. Where are you?”
“I’ve been helping out in the ER and the upstairs floors, but I’m going to leave for a few hours, then I’ll be back. Call me if you need me, okay?”
“Sure thing, Rachel. Be careful driving out there. I just got in a little while ago. Some of the roads are clear, but there’s still a lot of crap out there.”
Rachel was about to tell her she was getting a ride but then decided it wasn’t necessary. She didn’t seem to be able to summon the energy for long explanations.“Will do. Call me if you need me, okay?”
“I will. You go take a break. I know you’ve been here since early this morning.”
Rachel disconnected the call and focused on the front doors of the hospital lobby, ignoring the curious glances from those she passed. She stepped outside. As the lead physical therapist for a hospital, she pretty much set her own hours, sometimes based on only the needs of her patients. If she only had a couple of therapy sessions scheduled, she often took the morning off, or vice versa. Because of the tornado, all nonessential physical therapy would be postponed for the rest of the day, maybe even through tomorrow.
Outside, she barely acknowledged the clouds, the stiff breeze tugging at her hair, the janitor busily sweeping glass into a small pile nearby. People were still coming and going, some wearing hopeful or worried expressions, others smiling with relief, a few crying. The parking lot was full, staffers rushing inside wearing scrubs or whites, others, like her, leaving for a couple of hours of rest. Checking on their homes and loved ones, escaping the pain and suffering inside the hospital if only for a little while.
A slight tap on a ho
rn distracted her, and she saw Jeremy’s truck pull into the driveway and slide to a stop a short distance from the Emergency Room entrance. Relief surged through her and her heart jumped when he opened his door and stepped out, hurrying toward her, wrapping her in his arms. Shelter. Her lighthouse in a storm. Her rock of Gibraltar. Her Jeremy.
He took her hand and wordlessly walked her to the truck, opened the door, helped her inside and fastened her seatbelt. In moments, they drove away from the hospital, neither of them saying a word. She gazed out the window, again stunned with the destruction evident by the aftermath of the tornado. The sky was still cloudy and grey, and damp with moisture. Tree limbs lay everywhere on the sides of the roads now, some branches still lying in the middle of streets. She gasped and moaned softly when she saw three houses tumbled and broken, lying like dominoes on their sides, roofs ripped off, giant splinters of wood everywhere. The sight reminded her of playing Pick Up Sticks when she was a child, but this was no game . . . this was real. Jeremy eventually pulled up to his house and she searched it for damage. A few broken windows, half a tree down in his side yard, but thankfully it hadn’t landed on the roof. It looked like he’d need to replace some roofing shingles, but otherwise the house looked okay.
“Glad it’s still standing,” he said, turning to her as he turned off the truck. He shrugged. “Could’a’ been a lot worse, so I won’t complain.”
She nodded, unbuckled her seatbelt, and opened the door, sliding out of the truck before he could reach her. They stepped inside the house, and as he closed the door, she just stood there, letting the silence, the peace, his presence bring her the comfort she so desired.
“Go on, take a shower. I’ll run your scrubs through a short laundry cycle if you want. They’ll be washed and dried in less than an hour.”
Rachel nodded and walked toward the bathroom. She wanted to say so much, but also didn’t want to say anything at all. At least not yet. First, a shower, time to collect her thoughts. She undressed quickly, Jeremy giving her privacy on the other side of the door. She smiled at his thoughtfulness. She wanted him. Desperately. But not yet. Not until after she’d showered, washed the sweat and . . . her thoughts turned to the morgue and the stench of chemicals from that awful place and memories from her scrubs. Wordlessly, she opened the door a crack and handed Jeremy her scrubs. He took them and then softly shut the bathroom door as she stood on the other side, staring at it. Rachel heard his footsteps moving down the hallway as she turned toward the combined shower and bathtub. With a sigh, she peeled off her bra and thong and then bent to turn the faucets.
Less than fifteen minutes later, she stepped out of the shower and into the hallway, just as Jeremy walked from the living room to the kitchen. He passed the end of the hallway, glanced toward her, and then froze. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, maybe the look in her eyes, her concerns, the tornado, all the injuries, the deaths, coupled with this new accusation against her from Dr. Moeller that she had made a mistake. A fatal mistake. She didn’t want to believe it, needed to feel comforted, secure, and safe. Jeremy turned and walked slowly down the hallway until he stopped just in front of her, his face somber, his hands clutched loosely at his sides, his pupils dilated as he took in her wet hair, the towel loosely wrapped around her body, held in front of her breasts with a trembling hand.
Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against him. So warm, so strong. The burn of hot tears in her eyes prompted a garbled sob, and then she clutched at him, desperately, all her emotions bubbling up at once. His finger traced along the contours of her jaw and lifted her chin upward. His lips dipped toward hers the next moment, warm, firm and welcomed. A moan erupted in her chest. Sensations shot through her; his broad, firm chest, his flat, muscular stomach, his hips, pressing into her. She wanted him, desperately, had yearned for this moment for hours now, but it wasn’t just sex. It was the feeling she got when he held her in his arms. Their lips touched, feathery and gentle at first, then with heated intensity. His hands released her shoulders, one wrapping around her waist, pulling her even closer, the other cradling the back of her head. Their tongues tangled for several seconds, their breathing accelerated, her heart pounding. She almost whined when his lips left hers, but in the next moment they traced along her jaw. Jeremy kissed the skin of her cheek just in front of her ear, and then his tongue and lips nibbled at her earlobe. Goose bumps rose on her skin, and she gasped. The goose bumps were followed by a wave of heat starting deep in her core and burgeoning upward.
She felt weightless, as if she floated on a cloud, realizing seconds later that he had lifted her up into his arms. She felt his bulging biceps beneath her back and her knees. Rachel almost protested, worried that he’d hurt his shoulder, but she couldn’t. She felt . . . she felt at home in his arms, and didn’t want to do or say anything to spoil the moment.
Somewhere along the way, she’d lost her towel, but Rachel didn’t care. She reveled in the look on his face as he stared down at her breasts as he carried her down the hallway. Jeremy quickly moved into the living room, placed her gently on the sofa, and, as she watched, her chest hitching with impatience, he pulled his T-shirt over his head, unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and quickly stepped out of them. She smiled and only fleetingly wondered why he hadn’t taken her to his bed, but this was more fun. She settled on the cushions as he knelt on the floor next to her, his hands everywhere at once. She urged him closer. He leaned over her, hands stroking and exploring her breasts, her waist, her hips as she pulled his face to hers again, kissing him, sucking on his top lip and then delving inside his mouth. Another groan escaped her as he slid a hand between their bodies, palming her breast, his thumb teasing her nipples.
He gently rolled her onto her back and then dipped his head, his mouth encompassing her breast. She instinctively arched her back, gasping as his lips wrapped around her nipple and suckled, then licked, then suckled again. Her nipples grew into hard little tips, and she moaned again, prompting him to chuckle deep in his throat as he released his attention from one nipple and focused on the other. Her hands explored the breadth of his back, his narrow waist, and then cupped his firm ass. She grasped his erection and hung on for dear life. She wanted him so desperately, to feel him deep inside her, but she bit back her impatience.
He took his time, teasing, but not pushing her too close to the edge. He pushed himself closer to the side of the couch, and she lost her grip on his cock as his hands skimmed over her skin, down along the length of her waist, over the gentle curve of her hip, down her legs, then back again. She shivered under his touch, and her stomach tensed as he positioned himself over her, once again making love to her breasts, then her stomach, and lower. And then he was between her legs, his mouth worshiping her pussy, his tongue expertly parting her lips, sensing exactly what she liked.
She tried not to tense, tried not to grab at his head, and instead relaxed, her fingers reaching down to thread through his hair, savoring the moment, the feelings and the sensations he evoked within her. His hands slid underneath her ass, caressing, squeezing, melding with the movements of his mouth, and then his tongue slid inside. She gasped and instinctively arched her back. She threw her head back and moaned as he lathed and sucked her with his tongue and lips. Jeremy thrust his tongue deep into her pussy and brushed his thumb over her clit and bliss erupted, pushing her over the edge. She gasped, unable to stop it, unable to hold it back as her hips rose from the couch and pleasure rushed through her, igniting every nerve. He groaned as she climaxed, her orgasm pulsing her core as, every muscle in her body tensed, throbbing rhythmically. She collapsed back onto the couch, her skin slick with perspiration. His lips were kissing her again, slowly, up from her mound and along the front of her hip bone, trailing kisses up along her stomach and back to her breasts. His tongue lathed her nipples again, her body on fire, her blood throbbing, and then his lips trailed upward to her neck, then along her jaw line, and back to her mouth . . .
13
Jeremy
Jeremy lifted Rachel in his arms. She needed this now as much as he did. They’d seen enough tragedy, injuries, and death for one day. A few hours of life-affirming sex, some conversation, and some food would rejuvenate both of them. She hadn’t said anything about David or the accusations against her. Not yet. That could wait. For now, he would provide her with mind-numbing sex. Physical contact, passion, and exhaustion, and the emotional stuff could come later.
He lifted her into his arms again, this time quickly making his way down the short hallway to his bedroom, walking sideways so he didn’t bonk her head or her feet into the walls. Just before he entered his bedroom, he bent his head and nuzzled her ear. She tensed, her arms tightening around his neck. Her nipples hardened again, her skin covered with goose bumps.
He laid her gently on the bed and stared down at her. Her body was limp, relaxed, flushed with the heat of her passion, her skin tinged a slight pink. Another patch of slightly reddened skin where his scruff had brushed against her inner thigh. In seconds, he lay down next to her, reveling in the feel of her hot skin. Once again, his hands were everywhere, skimming her hips, trailing along her flat stomach, cradling the weight of her breasts in his palm. His cock was rock hard, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d lose it right here and now, but he focused, sought control, and slid his hand once again down her stomach, over her mound, and lower, to feel the wetness between her legs.
“Take me, Jeremy, please, take me now.”
He obliged, positioning himself on top of her, bearing his weight on his elbows, their bodies pressed close together, his cock nestled between her legs, pulsing and throbbing with desire. He leaned down and kissed her, his tongue dipping inside her mouth, playing tag with hers. With apparent impatience, Rachel spread her legs, grabbed his ass with one hand, his cock with the other, and guided it toward her opening. He gave her full control. With his cock positioned, she arched her hips, literally compelling his entry. That was all it took. With a low groan, he rocked his hips and surged inside.
Fuel the Fire (Southern Heat Book 8) Page 10