by Lisa Lace
Chapter 11: Things Get Messy
There wasn’t time for this, honestly. Well, there was, since it was her job, but her work schedule was leaving her feeling like there weren’t enough hours in the day to get everything done that was being asked of her.
“Jesus Christ,” Heather said, leaning against the nurses’ station and taking a deep breath.
“You said it,” said another nurse who was passing by. “This is nuts.”
Nuts was one way to put it. Mad house was another. Heather didn’t think she’d ever seen the hospital so full, and definitely not with people who all seemed to have the same thing. The general ward was full to the brim with people all with high fevers and rashes, and the nurses were rushed off their feet cleaning sheets and bedpans and trying to keep order in the hospital.
It didn’t help that three of the doctors who usually handled this sort of thing and a whole host of the nurses had called in sick that day and three other days that week, leaving them short staffed.
Everyone was working twice as hard as usual, and while the flu kept being thrown around as the diagnosis, no one really believed it anymore. It seemed much worse than any flu Heather had ever seen, and she’d overheard a conversation between two doctors where they’d as good as admitted that they didn’t know how this thing was spreading.
It didn’t seem to be contagious, which was the only reason why they weren’t in quarantine mode, but it was stumping everyone and the only thing they seemed to be able to do for the patients was keep them comfortable.
It was odd that the doctors who had gotten sick themselves weren’t even the ones who had been treating the sick patients, so no one really had a clue what was happening.
The hospital was in a state of disarray and stress all the time, and Heather looked forward to her breaks more than anything, commiserating with her coworkers about the fact that no one knew what was going on or when it was going to be over.
“Someone’s calling it a new epidemic,” one nurse had said in a hushed voice. “Something we don’t have any kind of vaccine for.”
“It was fine when it was just old people and children,” said another, paying no mind to the dirty looks he was getting. “But there’s no pattern to this. People of any age are getting sick now and there’s nothing we can do.”
And it wasn’t just their hospital either. Others in the state were reporting the same kind of thing, and when they heard that it was happening even in other countries, everyone really started to worry.
Every day there were reports of more sick people, and more of them coming into the hospital until a whole section of it was blocked off just for that illness. They were considering sending people back home because there wasn’t anything they could do.
Of course, that was mild compared to when people started coming in with wounds they claimed were inflicted by their friends and family.
A young girl with a stab wound from someone at the park.
A man who needed stitches after his brother had pushed him down a flight of stairs.
A woman who had rammed her car into another car for no apparent reason and suffered a broken arm in the process.
It was like the world was going mad around them, and Heather had no idea why that tickled something in her brain. Something she was trying to remember.
She told Sabin about it when she got home each night, and his expression just grew graver and graver. There was something in his eyes, and he always looked like he wanted to tell her something.
Heather remembered that he’d said he’d seen something like this before, but when she asked him about it, he just shook his head and told her to be careful. She knew he knew something, and wondered if this had anything to do with him and how strange he was.
The weight of things unsaid was just growing between them, and Heather realized that she didn’t know anything about him, really. He could be anyone. He could be lying about anything, and somehow she’d forgotten that.
One day she was hurrying from one place to another in the hospital, trying to get through the day so she could take her break and relax for all of two seconds, when she ran headlong into Dr. Woodward.
She cringed and stepped back. In all the mess of whatever was happening, she’d at least not had to deal with him as much. But now he was right there in her face, and she waited for him to start in on his usual spiel about them going out. Much to her surprise, he didn’t say anything at first. Just looked off into the distance for a second and then down at her.
“Dr. Woodward?” she asked, waving a hand in front of his face. His eyes were glassy, and he looked feverish.
As he stood there, he swayed on his feet, and Heather was quick to catch him, her dislike for the man fading because she needed to do her job.
“Come on,” she said softly. “You need to lie down somewhere and someone can come see to you.”
Heather helped him along to the first empty room they found, and managed to get him sitting on the bed. As she turned to rush off and find help, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist.
“Dr. Woodward?” she asked, unsure.
“What’s your hurry, Nurse?” he asked, and when he met her eyes, they were still glassy, but there was something wild about them.
“You need medical attention,” she said, trying to pull her wrist out of his grip. “You’re not well.”
“Always trying to run out on me, aren’t you?” he growled, yanking her closer. “Always with the excuses and the reasons to say no. You think you’re too good for me?” He was yelling now, and Heather yanked herself free from his grip and started backing towards the door. She wanted to turn and run, but thought that might provoke him more.
“You need help,” she said, not even sure what was happening. Was this a symptom of the sickness? No one else had started flying off the handle, but then there were all those reports of people who’d been hurt by friends or random people who had just suddenly started lashing out, and Heather felt like she could relate.
“You need help,” he mimicked in a high, cruel voice. “Maybe you need help. Maybe you need to learn how to accept people’s feelings for you and stop being so stuck up. You’re not better than me. I’m a doctor! I have money and standing! What do you have? Huh? Who are you?”
He pushed himself up from the bed and grabbed the first thing his hand landed on, a bedpan, and flung it at her. Heather ducked down just in time to avoid getting hit in the head with it.
Gratefully, the noise attracted a group of nurses who had been walking by and they stepped into the room.
“What on earth is happening?” one of them asked, looking alarmed.
“Something’s wrong with him,” Heather said. “He’s not himself, he’s-” She was cut off by Dr. Woodward throwing a clipboard at them.
He tipped his head back and started screaming, one long, wordless scream that made Heather’s heart skip a beat.
Together the team of nurses worked to get Dr. Woodward back into bed and restrained him. It was clear they were practiced at this, but it wasn’t until they stuck him with a sedative that he stop screaming and struggling against his binds.
The older looking nurse wiped her forehead and shook her head. “I don’t know what’s getting into people these days,” she said. “But it isn’t anything good.”
“I’ll say,” Heather agreed. “Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome, dear,” she replied. “Are you going to report him?”
Part of her felt like she should, but a much bigger part knew that he hadn’t been in anything approaching his right mind.
She looked at him where he lay in the bed, thick white restraints at his wrists and ankles. He looked so different without his perpetual smile, and Heather shuddered.
It was time to have a talk with Sabin.
Making it home was something of a feat, if Heather was being honest. Driving had been precarious due to the sudden deluge of rain and the way her hands were shaking on the steering wheel. She�
�d kept a white knuckled grip the whole way home, not wanting to end up dead in a ditch somewhere.
In her head, she kept replaying the scene from the hospital: the way Dr. Woodward had yelled at her, the look in his eyes. It was like he’d been dead, but still full of wild fury, and she shuddered when she finally pulled into her driveway, pressing a hand over her mouth and regulating her breathing.
Sabin was inside, and he always made her feel safe. She was going to have to resist the urge to just melt against him and let him hold her because they needed to have a talk.
She needed to know what was going on, and she knew that he knew. He’d said he was here to help them, hadn’t he? When they’d first met?
It seemed like a very long time ago, but Heather knew in reality it had been less than a month.
It probably should have bothered her how attached she already was to someone she didn’t even know. Someone who might not be entirely…
Okay, no. Thinking about that was just making her heart rate kick up again, and she didn’t really want to start hyperventilating in the car.
Heather forced herself to undo her seatbelt and get out, walking up the stairs to her door. She glanced around her, like she was expecting Dr. Woodward or someone else to be waiting to hurt her, and then let herself in.
Sabin came walking out of the bedroom when she stepped into the house, hair still damp from a shower it appeared.
His eyes were kind, and he smiled to see her, and all that resolve that she’d been counting on to keep her from falling apart sort of just crumbled. As she threw herself across the room and into his arms.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he caught her up, strong arms winding around her and pulling her close. “Are you okay?”
This was the part where she was supposed to demand answers, to tell him that she knew he was hiding something. That she wanted to know what it was and what it had to do with the chaos that was going around these days. She wanted to say that she shouldn’t have trusted him and that he was lying to her. Who did he think he was doing this and playing with her emotions and making her think he was safe when really all this danger could be coming from him?
But she didn’t say any of that. She didn’t ask any questions or make any demands. The minute she was pressed against that solid chest, the minute his arms went around her, one hand sliding up into her hair to take her ponytail down and card through the strands, she lost the fight in her, and she just wanted him to hold her.
“Heather,” he said, clearly trying to get her attention, worry coloring his tone. “Tell me what happened.”
“In a minute,” she said back, burying her face in his chest. He smelled like her shampoo and her soap, and she rubbed her nose against the dip between his pecs, swallowing back tears.
Whenever she was scared as a child, she’d gone to her father. Her mother had understood and would slip silently into the kitchen to make them cups of cocoa heaped with marshmallows and whipped cream, no matter what time of night it was. Her dad would pull her into his lap and stroke her back and let her talk about her nightmare or how she shouldn’t have watched that scary movie because now she thought there was a monster in her closet.
He never made her feel like she was stupid for being afraid of the things she was afraid of, and instead calmly and methodically dispelled each of her fears with a smile on his face. When she was calm again, her mom would come out with the cocoa, and they’d all sit together while her dad told terrible jokes that had them all laughing in no time.
She always ended up falling asleep before she could finish her cocoa, and her parents would work together to get her back into bed.
More than anything she wished her dad was there for her to go to now, but he wasn’t and she was still afraid.
Of course, there were more adult ways of forgetting about fears, and she stood on her toes to kiss Sabin hard on the mouth.
“Heather,” he said again, more firmly this time, leaning back from the kiss. “If there’s something wrong, then we should talk about it. You know this doesn’t lead to talking.” He was trying to sound stern, but he hadn’t let her go yet.
“Please,” Heather said, pressing closer to him. “Please, Sabin. I swear I’ll tell you everything and let you tell me whatever it is you’re hiding soon, but please. I just...I need this right now.”
He sighed heavily and then nodded. “Okay.”
As soon as she had his consent, she pulled back and grabbed his hand, leading him to the bedroom.
Her bed was a welcome sight after the day she’d had, but not because she wanted to sleep on it. As always, the soft covers and mattress seemed to envelop her as she laid down on it, and she let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.
Sabin moved to lean over her, braced on his hands as his eyes searched her face.
Part of her wanted to turn away from the scrutiny, but she didn’t, letting herself be open to how much she needed him right then. It was scary to feel that need, but when he slid a hand from her neck down over her chest and stomach to rest between her legs, the noise she made showed only approval for what he was doing.
With careful hands he stripped her clothes off, pulling her shirt over her head and unclasping her bra, sliding her pants and underwear off until she was naked under the heat of that golden gaze. For however reluctant he’d been to do this before, he seemed perfectly fine with it now, and she could see the growing tent in his pants, showing how much he wanted her.
Heather was already wet, and she spread her legs at the insistent press of his fingers against her inner thighs, pulling her legs up so that her feet were flat against the bed and her knees were bent, making more room for Sabin.
To her confusion, he moved away from her then, getting on his knees on the floor. She opened her mouth to say something about it, but then he was pulling her closer to the edge of the bed with just his hands on her hips and then his face was buried between her legs, and then he was kissing her clit and making her jump in surprise.
“I guess you’ve done this before,” she murmured, and it was teasing, however weak.
He smirked against her folds. “Yes,” he said. “I have.”
And then he proceeded to show her how it felt to be devoured.
There wasn’t anything rough about it, though. On the contrary, he licked and sucked like she was something delicious to be savored. Like something that he’d waited years to taste, a delicacy, and he made her come twice in a row with the way his tongue delved into her. His fingers followed, alternating between rubbing at her clit and pushing into her body.
Heather didn’t have any room in her head to worry about what had happened to her. Not when pleasure was coursing through her, hot and thick, and making her arch and whine for Sabin.
Her fingers twisted into his hair, but he didn’t seem to mind, pleasuring her until she had to push his head away because she was too sensitive.
But apparently he wasn’t done.
He rose to his full height and pulled his own pants off, giving her an eye full of that hard, dripping cock. There was something so hot about a man who got turned on by pleasuring their partner, and Heather’s legs were still open.
Even though she’d come twice already and was worn out from it, the sight of his length had her practically throbbing to have him inside her.
She didn’t even have to ask, when the time came. Sabin climbed back on the bed and licked his lips, leaning down to kiss her, the taste of her pleasure mingling between their lips. She wrapped her arms around him and held on like he was the only thing keeping her anchored.
“Heather,” he murmured, breathing her name into her mouth.
She smiled and arched her body, rubbing her wetness against his erection.
He didn’t need any further urging, it seemed, and he sank into her with ease, since she was already wet and open for him.
They moved together slowly, bodies meeting in the middle as she lifted her hips and he thrust down into her. It was probably
the slowest, gentlest coupling they’d ever had since this had started, but somehow it was exactly what she needed in that moment.
“Sabin,” she whined, body already going tight around him with how good it felt, each thrust rubbing almost every inch of him against the sensitive parts of her.
Her fingers bit into his back, nails digging into skin and leaving little half moon indents as evidence of how good it felt. “Oh, god,” she moaned. “I’m so close.”
He smiled and deepened his thrusts, though he made no move to speed them up. “That’s it,” he murmured softly. “Come on, beautiful. Let go.”
And really, how could she resist urging like that?
Her back arched and her mouth dropped open, leaving her a gasping mess and the hot tide of pleasure came crashing around her. She shook and writhed under him, going tight as her toes curled.
Her mind whited out under the force of it, and she was barely aware of it when Sabin found his own release as she panted for breath and tried to come down from the high of her orgasm.
Sweat cooled on their bodies as they lay there together in silence some moments later. Now that she had something else to think about other than what had happened, she felt better and a little embarrassed about her persistence and how upset she’d been.
Sabin opened his mouth and then closed it again before turning his head away from her and sighing. “You know, don’t you?” he asked, finally.
“And the award for vaguest question ever goes to,” Heather muttered under her breath.
“What I am, I mean,” he said, clarifying.
Heather shook her head. “I have no clue what you are. All I know is that the world is going to hell in a handbasket. I was attacked at work, and it seems like you said this was going to happen.”
“You were attacked?” Sabin asked, sitting up sharply. “By who?”
“A doctor. He was...not himself, I guess? He was wild and out of it, but his eyes seemed dead. He said a bunch of stuff and then started throwing bedpans before he just ended up screaming. He had to be restrained and sedated before it was over.” She told the story with no emotion in her voice, trying not to relive it too much. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before, and she wasn’t even sure how she felt about it other than glad it was over.