Out of the Shadows (Hudson Security #1)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

R oughly thirty-three hours had passed since the mission debrief, and Bean’s office clock declared it nearly two in the afternoon on Wednesday. She’d managed to catch a few hours of sleep after the mission, but she’d been working nonstop since. She’d handed off two projects to Tiny—a client who had a stalker they needed to trace emails and calls from, and a company looking for someone internal who was sabotaging their IT security. She was still swamped though.

From extensive background checks on the prospective new members of the McClintocks’ security detail, to shoring up Hudson Security’s firewalls, and little fires popping up here and there, it was safe to say her plate was full. If she could just get a couple more hours added to the day, she’d be able to knock everything off her to-do list.

Squirming in her office chair, she snorted as she dialed out, her phone ringing in her ear. Yeah, right . If she had two more hours in the day, she’d no doubt fill it with more work.

Work-life balance? Not a thing for her.

The phone continued to ring, and she was a split second from disconnecting the call when a man’s deep voice answered. Nerves took flight in her stomach as she cleared her throat. “Hey, Doc. It’s Bean at Hudson Security. I hope it’s okay that I called your cell.” She fiddled with her pen, absently doodling while she spoke. While there were a number of doctors at the local clinic, Doc Buchanan was the head physician as well as the father of one of her colleagues. She and Doc were friendly when they saw each other, but still, she hoped she wasn’t overstepping. “Is this a good time?”

“Of course, dear. How can I help you?”

She softly pressed the pads of her fingers against the edge of her right cheekbone and winced at the sharp pain. “I know it’s last minute and all, but is there any chance I could get in for a quick appointment to see you today?”

He was silent for a moment, and she swore she could feel his unease through the phone. “Of course. Is there a specific time you’re thinking?”

Glancing at her computer monitor, the calendar blurred. Shit. She blinked a few times, and thankfully, her calendar came into focus. “Would now work? I could be there in fifteen minutes. Twenty tops.”

The last thing she wanted to do was drive into town. Especially to see a doctor. She also didn’t know how she was going to sneak out of the office without anyone seeing her, but Bean knew if she didn’t get checked out, she’d go down the internet rabbit hole and self-diagnose herself with a fatal aneurysm within an hour.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Doc’s soothing voice, the concern in his words, had her throat going thick.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, but I... um... fainted, and on the way down, I must have hit the corner of my desk.” She cleared her throat as she cringed. “With my face.”

“I see. When did this happen?”

She glanced at the clock on her monitor. “About half an hour ago. When I came to, I was on the floor, but I don’t think I was unconscious for more than a couple minutes. I want to make sure I didn’t break anything in my face or give myself a concussion.” And hopefully figure out what the hell was wrong. This was the second time this week she’d passed out.

“You know, Bean, I was about to head over to the gym. Why don’t I swing by your office and see you?”

“You know that you’re a horrible liar, right, Doc?” A smile tugged at her lips. She knew the man belonged to De La Rosa Gym, which was located next to Hudson Security, but she didn’t believe him for a second.

He chuckled. “Perhaps. Truthfully, I don’t think you should be driving. So I can come to you.”

Though relief had her shoulders relaxing, she asked, “Are you sure?”

“Bean, my dear, the fact that you called me is telling. I’ll see you in twenty.”

“I’ll let security know you’re on your way. Thanks, Doc,” she said before hanging up.

Bean quickly sent an interoffice message to both Mel at the front desk and the guys monitoring the security gate about Doc’s arrival, then she leaned back into her chair with a groan. Well, more like a whimper. Her face was on fire and her hands trembled. Whether that was from her fall or the impending visit with Doc, she wasn’t sure. The man hadn’t been wrong. She avoided doctors of every stripe as much as humanly possible. But if she had to see a doctor, Doc was the one. The man was efficient, quick, and to the point.

Bean wasn’t a fan of needles, hated being poked and prodded, and that heavy-duty disinfectant smell that was universal in every medical facility never failed to make her stomach turn. Her earliest memories were flashes of her sitting in a bright, sterile room working on various projects while a handful of doctors in white lab coats studied her every move. But regardless of her hangups, she needed to figure out what was wrong. Get it fixed. Then move on.

Fifteen minutes later, her desk phone buzzed. The display indicated it was Mel at the front desk. “Yes?” Bean asked, pressing the speaker button.

“Doc Buchanan is here to see you.”

“Thanks, Mel. Please send him back.”

Scanning her monitors, Bean began closing out the screens that contained confidential information, which was basically all of them.

A knock sounded at her office door. As the last screen went dark, she called out, “Come in.”

“Hi, Bean,” Doc said, a warm smile on his face as he closed the door behind him.

She rose and stepped toward him with her hand outstretched. “Thanks for seeing me, Doc.” After shaking his hand, she gestured to her office’s seating area—aka the comfy couch she often crashed on during long cases and missions. “Please, have a seat.”

Instead of sitting, he set his bag on the coffee table and tilted his head to the side as he studied her face. “I’m not going to lie. I was surprised when you called. But considering the shiner that’s blooming, I’m glad you did. Would you be more comfortable doing the exam on the couch or sitting in your office chair?”

Neither. She frowned. “Couch, I suppose.”

“Have a seat.” He pulled an oxygen monitor, blood pressure cuff, and a stethoscope from his bag and sat on the coffee table across from her. “Pull your sleeve up, please.”

Undoing the button at her wrist, she rolled up the sleeve of her blouse. Moving the material to her shoulder, she stilled when Doc’s hand settled over hers .

“What are these from?” he asked, his gaze on the two large bruises on her biceps.

Her frown deepened, and for a moment, her words lodged in her throat. “I, um, passed out a few days ago at home. I think I hit the edge of my dining table on the way down.”

Concern was evident on Doc’s face as he fit the cuff around her upper arm. “Any blurry vision or headaches?”

She contemplated lying, but that defeated the entire purpose of seeing Doc. “Yes to both,” she said with a soft sigh. “But the blurry vision was for just a few seconds, and the headache’s nothing big.”

His lips pressed together as he placed the stethoscope’s earpieces into his ears. “Try to relax,” he murmured, taking her blood pressure.

The cuff tightened around her arm, and she tried to think calm, pleasant thoughts, but it was pointless. The hiss of the cuff deflating matched her spirits.

“One-thirty-eight over eighty-eight. A little high.” Placing the cuff back into his bag, he pulled out a package of exam gloves, hand sanitizer, and a clear bag that contained a tray and multiple plastic boxes. After sanitizing his hands, he put on a pair of gloves and scanned her face, asking, “May I?”

She nodded and then winced as he gently prodded her bruised cheek.

“How many times have you passed out?”

It took all her willpower to hold still. “Just the two times. I thought the first time was a fluke, but today...” She shrugged. “I figured it was better to give you a call.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” he replied, removing his gloves.

After shining a flashlight in her eyes and checking the bruises on her arms, he had her stand and do a number of exercises that reminded her of field sobriety tests she’d seen done. Seemingly satisfied by her actions, Doc gestured for her to sit back on the couch. Then he donned a new pair of gloves, opened the clear bag, and quickly assembled a mini phlebotomy station.

Her stomach rolled. Violently.

“We’ll do a quick blood draw and should have the results back in two to three days.”

She may have nodded. She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that it took every bit of concentration to remain calm. When he disinfected her arm with an alcohol swab, she wanted to yank her arm away from him. When he came at her with a giant needle, she wanted to stab him with it. Instead, he jabbed it into her arm.

Breathe. Do not puke on the man . The seven little words replayed in her mind like a mantra. A mantra that was failing miserably.

Her heart pounded as he swapped in a second vial into the blood-draw-needle contraption thing. This needed to be over. Now. Just as the bile started to creep up her throat, he removed the needle and placed a piece of gauze over the tiny puncture.

“All done. Hold that, please,” he said while he placed the vials into a container. “Now,” he continued as he taped the gauze to her arm, “let’s talk about you passing out.”

Let’s not. “Did I break anything in my face?”

The corners of his lips twitched. “I would say no. The bruise is already a nasty shade of purple, and I imagine it’s going to look even worse tomorrow. While I don’t know much about what it is you actually do here at Hudson Security, I assume that it can be highly intense. How are your stress levels?”

Uh, hard pass. “Do you think I have any signs of a concussion?”

The look he shot her said he knew exactly what she was doing. But thankfully, he went along with her subject change. “ Your pupils are responsive, and your balance is good. However, you did lose consciousness and mentioned blurry vision. Even though you lost consciousness before you fell, there’s truly no telling how hard you hit your head. I wouldn’t rule out a slight concussion. As such, you need to take it easy for the next forty-eight hours.”

She nodded. That she could do. “No problem.”

Doc narrowed his eyes. “You do realize that part of the taking-it-easy bit means limited activities and avoiding loud noises and crowds?”

“I’m not much of a gym goer or hiker, so limited activities won’t be a problem. And as for crowds?” She shrugged. “It’s safe to say that I’m not exactly a people person. So I’m good there.” Understatement of the year.

He shook his head. “Limited activities also means temporarily halting things that require a lot of concentration.” He nodded to her workstation. “Reading, screens... basically all computer work.”

Her eyes widened. Hell, her mouth may have even fallen open.

Doc chuckled. “Try twenty-four hours, and we can see how you feel after that.”

“You’re kidding, right?” When Doc shook his head, she rushed on, “My job—there are critical things that need to happen and?—”

“And you lost consciousness for an unknown amount of time, fell, hit your face, experienced blurry vision, and you currently have a low-grade headache. Correct?”

She pressed her lips together and shot daggers at the man.

Doc chuckled. “Glare all you want. Am I wrong?”

She huffed out a resigned sigh. “Fine. I’ll need to make arrangements.”

“Good. Now, the last time I saw you, we talked about your diet of processed foods and energy drinks. Any improvements there?”

Rolling her eyes, she let out another sigh. “Pretty sure you know the answer to that one, Doc.”

“Your diet’s still piss-poor then, huh?” He tsked and shook his head, but the humor in his expression softened the rebuke.

“But the good news is I’ve actually been drinking more water.” Which was true. However, more was a bit misleading since her hydration starting point had basically been zero. Baby steps, right?

“Good. And the energy drinks?”

“Those are still part of the rotation, but I did switch to the less sugary ones. Also, for every couple of energy drinks I down, I drink a bottle of water. I swear.” Granted, they were the smaller half bottles, but whatever. Water was water, right?

He simply stared at her for a moment, and it took everything she had to not squirm. “Bean, you have to ease up on those drinks. All that caffeine and sugar—even the sugar-free varieties—are just not that good for you. But the increased hydration is a plus. Your new goal is one bottle of water to one energy drink.” He rushed on when she opened her mouth to protest. “At least try one-to-one. When was the last time you ate today?”

She frowned. She’d missed lunch for sure. Had she had breakfast?

“Bean, my dear, it’s nearly three o’clock. Skipping meals can be a factor in your passing out.” He nodded to the container holding the vials of her blood. “My guess is your blood work is going to show that you’re anemic. The bruising and fainting are all indicators.”

“What’s the treatment for anemia?”

“Depends on what kind of anemia. We’ll check your thyroid too, but iron-deficiency anemia is the most common. In a nutshell, you might not be getting enough iron in your diet.”

Her frown deepened. “Eat better, then?”

Doc nodded. “I’d also suggest minimizing stress.”

Her head was shaking before he finished speaking. “Look, my job is highly stressful, but I love it. It’s often time-sensitive and intense, but it can also be absolutely thrilling.”

“That’s all great, Bean, but you also need to decompress, which is something I don’t think you do. Outside of work, what are your hobbies? Interests? Do you go hiking?”

Heat rushed over her cheeks. “Despite living on Hudson Island and working where I do, I’d say I’m not exactly the outdoorsy sort.”

“Well, how about yoga or meditation?”

She barely held back a scoff. “Not my thing.”

Doc’s brow arched. “Have you actually tried either?”

“Yes,” she said, drawing out the one word. “The guys once got me a package over at the Pacific View Resort with all sorts of yoga and meditation classes.” She’d taken one class of each, and while the yoga class had been more challenging than she’d anticipated, she’d been bored out of her damn mind. The meditation class? Ridiculous. Fifty minutes of just lying there on a supposedly comfortable mat that was anything but. Breathing. While the lady next to her fell asleep. No, thanks.

“How’d it go?” Doc asked.

“Well... I did one meditation and a beginner yoga class. Then I ended up swapping out all the remaining classes for two massages, a facial, and their signature Pacific View Resort Mixology Session. And don’t worry, that class used all organic booze and fresh ingredients for the mixers, so it was totally fine.” She flashed him her most innocent smile.

Doc chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve heard that’s a fun class. They also have a cooking class if that’s something you’re interested in. Bottom line, Bean? You need to find a hobby that has nothing to do with work. That has nothing to do with computers or screens or tech. Tell me about your social life. Do you get together with your friends much? Unwind with them?”

This conversation needed to end. ASAP. “I spend a lot of time at work, so I mostly have work friends. Everyone gets together outside of work too.” Not that she joined them that much. Maybe once a month. Maybe. Not that Doc needed to know that.

“Good. Like I said, it’s important you take the time to relax. Do you have family in the area?”

She went cold. That too-familiar hollow feeling settled into her gut. Shaking her head, she willed her expression to remain neutral. “I’m not close with my family.” It had been over a decade since she’d seen her parents in person.

He nodded, again studying her. “I’m sorry to hear that. But you know, sometimes it can be for the best. Sometimes absence is better than toxicity.”

Her stomach clenched as she took in what he’d said. Releasing a breath, she let the wisdom of those six words wash over her. “Thanks, Doc.”

“Of course, dear. Now, seeing as we don’t know the actual results of your blood draw yet, do you want my unofficial medical opinion?”

Her brow furrowed as she tried to read him. “I don’t know, do I?”

“Probably not, but I think you’re working yourself into an early grave. You’re exhausted. You forget to eat. When you do, there’s zero nutritional value in what you consume. And you’re stressed. You’re only thirty-two, but you’re a heart attack waiting to happen. I think the fainting spells are a precursor to something much more serious. ”

“Holy crap, Doc,” she murmured, worry curdling in her belly. “It can’t be that bad.”

“You’ve passed out twice.” He gestured to her arm and then her face. “You’re lucky you only have bruises. What if the next time you pass out, you crack your head even harder? Then what? You wait for a coworker to stumble upon your unconscious body?”

She blew out a breath. “Geez, Doc.”

“It may seem like I’m being dramatic, but if this is something that’s preventable?—”

There was a quick rap on her office door before it swung open. “B, do you have the info on the...”

Gavin came to an abrupt halt as he took her in. She fought a cringe when a look she could only describe as seriously pissed off crossed his face.

His hands fisted at his sides, and he hissed, “Who the fuck hit you?”