Authors: Kathleen Grieve
Dating Impossible (15 page)
“Wait?” Daisy said, her eyes widening. “Wait for what?” She
pointed her fork in Jett’s direction. “I’ll have you know that your dad and I
didn’t wait for a damn thing. Made you and Cruz while in the Mile High Club on
the way to Vegas to get married.” She chuckled. “How do you two think you got
your names?”
Cruz and Jett both covered their ears with their hands and
groaned in unison. They looked at Ben Avery for support.
“Yo, Dad,” Jett said, “get your woman under control.”
“His
what
?” Daisy
gasped.
And just like that, all pandemonium erupted. JJ sat and
gazed around the table as an exasperated kind of verbal sparring exploded. Jett
stood leaning toward his mother with Roxanne tugging on his dark blue T-shirt
that said
My Hose Gets Action
in
white block letters. Ben grabbed Daisy from behind as she gave her son a piece
of her mind. JJ’s own father leaned back, took out his cigar from his pocket, and
clamped it between his teeth, an expression of nostalgia on his face. Cruz stood
next to his brother, trying to talk him down.
On overload from her stressful week, JJ slipped out of the
dining room and left through the back door. She found herself drawn to the old
tire swing. Gripping the thick rope overhead, she hauled her legs through the
center of the worn rubber and sat. Weariness settled upon her with a weight she
wasn’t sure she could hold much longer. Tennis shoes dragging in the dirt, she
leaned her forehead on the swing. The smell of oil and old rubber wafted around
her.
The investigation at work was still pending. All week long
she’d been on pins and needles waiting for someone to say something about the accusations.
The shared looks and whispers that suddenly stopped when she entered a room
worried her. The not knowing drove her crazy.
Strong hands clasped her shoulders and she tensed. “Relax,”
Cruz said in a husky voice near her ear. “It’s just me. Smart move to escape. Jett
and Roxanne better get used to it. Daisy won’t let up easily.”
He kneaded her stiff muscles and his soothing presence along
with the magic of his touch eased her apprehension. After a while he began to
push her. Higher and higher she soared. Just like when she was a girl. She
squealed with delight as the fragrant air from Daisy’s flowers rushed all
around her and the night’s stars lit up the black night. Finally, she slowed
and came to a halt. Cruz stood in front of her, holding the thick rope in his
hands. He leaned down and brushed her lips with his own in a tender kiss.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said when he pulled back.
The hurt in his voice shredded her heart. “I know,” she
admitted. “I—”
“JJ? Cruz?” Daisy’s voice met them in the darkened corner of
the backyard. “Where are you? Roxanne made dessert, too.”
“Saved by dessert,” Cruz said as he helped her from the
tire’s center. His arms wrapped around her waist and he pressed his hard cock
against her heated core. “You have no idea how much I wish you were dessert.” He
nuzzled the curve of her neck and nipped her earlobe.
White hot pressure zinged to all her pleasure points. JJ
moaned, barely resisting the urge to grab his cock in her hands. She longed to
touch him again.
Daisy’s voice called out to them again. Cruz cursed and
released JJ.
“Coming,” Cruz called to his mother. “And, JJ,” he said, “you
can’t avoid me forever.”
She snorted. Who the fuck knew that better than she did?
Chapter
Seventeen
“Thank you, Dr. Jones, for helping my baby,” Mrs. Sanchez
said.
“Mom,” her young patient, Carmella, said from the gurney, “I’m
not a baby. I’m sixteen!” Her dark eyes flashed with a bit of a spark, despite
having severe asthma complicated by bronchitis.
JJ smiled. “My pleasure,” she said. She listened to
Carmella’s lungs. Air wheezed in and out of the fragile lung sacs within her
chest. The girl still sounded tight. “I think one more breathing treatment will
do her some good. I’m going to step out to the desk and finish up your
paperwork. Unfortunately, I have to admit you and add some IV antibiotics to
help treat your infection.”
Mrs. Sanchez’s eyes grew round and her daughter groaned. JJ
squeezed the older woman’s shoulder.
“Everything will be okay. Promise,” JJ said and went to the
main nurses’ station, writing very specific orders, and had the hospitalist
paged. She then made a copy of her written orders and stashed them in a folder
she’d been keeping on all her patients since her shit been tampered with.
“Hey,” Ambra said. “You need another treatment in four?”
“The floor therapist can take care of the next one. I
ordered them every four hours,” JJ replied. Her gaze narrowed on her friend. “How
are you? I haven’t seen you all week. And now that Roxanne is back, we all need
a girl’s night.”
Ambra brightened. “Not my fault, girly. You’re the one who
is working these god-awful night shifts. I’m only here tonight because I’m
covering for Chris.” She stared off into space. “I don’t even think I remember
what a girl’s night is anymore. It’s been so long.”
“I know,” JJ said and plopped her chin in her hand, leaning
on the desk. “Did you hear the news?” she asked.
“About the film crew?” Ambra smiled. “Yes. It’s a pretty big
deal to have
ER Nights
filming in our
emergency room here in
Do you know when they get here?”
JJ shook her head. “No. I was going to ask you—”
A wail of terror screeched through the ER. JJ and Ambra
glanced around, looking for the source.
“Someone help! My baby,” Mrs. Sanchez yelled.
Heart pounding, JJ ran back to exam room four. Young
Carmella lay slumped over with her eyes rolled back into her head. Her respirations
were shallow and barely perceptible. The pulse ox connected to her finger read
an oxygen level of sixty-six percent.
“What happened?” JJ asked and removed her stethoscope from
her pocket.
“I don’t know,” Mrs. Sanchez responded with despair etched
in her bronzed skin. “She was complaining about missing cheerleading practice
and then she quit talking.” She clutched her chest. “The medicine you gave her
was supposed to make her better,” she accused.
Alarm spread through JJ. “What medicine? The orders I just
wrote for antibiotics haven’t had a chance to be processed yet.
I haven’t given her anything other than the
albuterol for her lungs,” JJ said as she began a quick assessment.
Whereas the girl had been tight and wheezy before, now she
scarcely moved any air. JJ looped her stethoscope around her neck. Ambra had
already placed the Ambu mask over the young girl’s face and assisted her
respirations, but her oxygen saturation remained in the low seventies. “Ambra,
set up to intubate.”
“That medicine that nurse just gave her through her IV,”
Mrs. Sanchez said frantically, her voice near hysterical. “She said you told
her to and it would help Mella breathe better.”
JJ stiffened as her suspicion grew. What the fuck was going
on here? Worry gnawed her gut. Stabilizing her patient was her priority, but then
she planned to talk to Mrs. Sanchez at length.
“Jake,” JJ said to the nurse assigned to her for the night, “grab
Romazicon and Narcan from the Pyxis and give it IV push, stat. And get the
phlebot in here. I want her to draw a random drug screen.” He left the room in
a rush and she glanced at Ambra. “Hold off on the intubation. Let’s BiPAP her
on one hundred percent oxygen with settings 12/6 and a back-up rate of 12.”
“You got it,” Ambra said and JJ took over the bagging of
oxygen into her patient’s lungs so Ambra could go grab the BiPAP machine.
“Everything is going to be okay,” JJ assured the frantic
mother as Jake returned and drew up the meds. JJ glanced at the labels, double
checking the medications to make sure there was no miscommunication.
Jake flicked the syringe, removing the air bubbles, and
looked at JJ. “How much Narcan do you want to start with?”
“Start with 0.2 milligrams,” she replied and watched
carefully as he administered them.
Everything happened at once as the team worked on the young
girl. Jake repeated the Narcan doses every five minutes as Ambra hooked up the
breathing apparatus and strapped the mask to the girl’s face. The phlebotomist
came in and drew the girl’s blood and Carmella didn’t even flinch from the
needle stick.
JJ’s worry increased. She blew out a long breath, placed her
hands on either side of her patient’s head, and prayed for calm. She closed her
eyes and blocked out Mrs. Sanchez’s tears. Her palms and fingers grew very hot
as Reiki flowed through her.
Several long minutes ticked by. Finally, a low moan escaped
Carmella’s lips and she clutched at the BiPAP mask strapped to her head in a
weak attempt to remove it. The girl’s vital signs were normalizing. Relief
surged within JJ. She spoke in a soothing tone to her patient, helping her to
remain calm.
“Mrs. Sanchez,” JJ said, “Carmella is going to be okay. Do
you have a minute? I’d like to talk to you.”
“I won’t leave my baby,” the older woman said and crossed
her arms over her chest.
Impatience swept through JJ. She wanted to know who was at
the bottom of this shit and she wanted to know now. Reaching for a calm she
hadn’t known it was possible to possess at a time like this, she placed her
hands in her pockets of her white coat. She smiled reassuringly. One thing JJ
knew for sure. Someone had come in here and given this girl something to
suppress her respirations. She’d have to wait for the drug screen to come back to
confirm her suspicion. But who? And more importantly, why?
Chapter
Eighteen
Hands slick with sweat, JJ found courage and knocked on
Cruz’s office door. She’d been summoned, like some naughty child, to the
principal’s office. Anger and irritation roiled together and sat heavy in the
pit of her stomach. She hadn’t done anything wrong. This entire situation was
so fucked up.
At the sound of his muffled response, she grasped the knob
and entered. Unable to look at him, JJ stared at the blue carpet. She didn’t
have that much courage. JJ sat in the seat opposite his large mahogany desk and
pinned her glance to the copper-colored name plate facing her.
Weariness settled
over her shoulders, knotting the muscles of her neck. Why was this shit
happening all over again? Mark wasn’t here in
to cross state lines after the police had arrested him for violating the
restraining order. All it had taken was that one time to show that psycho prick
she’d been serious. Arrests—for any reason— were frowned upon by licensing boards.
Dropping the charges in exchange for Mark’s promise to leave her alone had
worked to his advantage. When she’d left
both their medical careers had been intact.
So who was fucking
with her now? She’d spent the rest of her shift trying to track the events that
had caused Carmella Sanchez’s respiratory distress in between seeing other
patients. She had more questions than answers.
Her initial thought had been Angie, which was far-fetched because she
hadn’t even been on shift tonight.
And
Mrs. Sanchez’s description of the nurse was no bottle-dyed blonde. Ironically,
a redhead, but there weren’t any other redheads that worked in this ER besides
her.
This didn’t make any sense.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” he said in a business-like tone.
With a heavy sigh she lifted her gaze. Just as handsome as
ever, he wore a blue Armani suit, crisp white shirt, and deep red tie. His hair
was still damp from his recent shower. She searched his face as he shuffled
through a folder in front of him. His lips were pulled down in an
uncharacteristic frown, she noticed how stiff he held himself. He was in boss
mode and fear seared her chest.
“JJ,” he began, “I’ve read the incident reports, but I’d
like you to tell me what happened in your own words.”
Her heart sank to the floor of the desert.
He was all business.
“Honestly?
I don’t know, Cruz. Everything is down on that paper. Someone is fucking with
me and my career. It’s been happening for weeks now.”
Cruz’s eyes darkened and his lips drew into a thin line. “I
have to admit that some weird shit is going on.” He shook his head and a
bewildered expression graced his handsome face. “But why would someone fuck
with you? In all my years here at Phoenix General, nothing like this has ever
happened. Besides, we’re in the business of helping people here.
Not harming them.”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” she said. “This entire
situation doesn’t make sense.” Her slick hands gripped the arms of her chair
and she leaned forward. “Putting aside personal feelings here, Cruz, I have to
know. You do believe me, don’t you?” Her breath caught in her throat as she
waited for his answer. She needed his support. Now more than ever.