22. Jack
22
JACK
I sat on my couch waiting for twenty minutes, wondering where Ashley was. I had made up my mind to tell her how much I loved her and how if she intended to be with me, she couldn't speak with Sam anymore. I hadn't yet come up with a plan for how to tell Calvin, but it was something we could think of together—if she was actually willing to commit to me. That part was still up in the air.
Ashley had been so amazing to me, but I quickly learned that it was because she was an amazing person, not because she was this way with me exclusively. I loved that about her… until I saw her being that way with Sam Gooding. He didn't deserve it, but she was still incredible. It was a testament to her heart and the type of woman she was. My jealousy over that fact was a testament to how wounded I was by what Barbra had done. I needed to work on it, but I wanted Ashley to be the one I worked on it for.
If there were any woman alive worth fighting my demons for, it was her, and now she was leaving me high and dry, waiting past the time she'd picked. I mentioned six and she said five, as if she were eager to be here and didn’t want to wait any longer, but now I was the one waiting. My irrationally trauma-informed brain told me she got cold feet and was standing me up because she realized how old I was and how controlling I seemed.
There was never a moment where I didn't battle thoughts like that. Thoughts that put me squarely in the seat of the victim, wondering why I wasn't good enough. It was a plague, a blackness that shadowed my entire life and every emotion, thought, and relationship I had. Ashley had told me I didn't have to worry about Sam, but no matter how hard I tried to believe that and let my heart rest, I couldn’t. I wouldn't. Not until I heard from her mouth that she was choosing me and we could have a relationship.
I looked at the time on my phone and another five minutes had passed. I tried calling her again, but again it went straight to voicemail. Either something had happened or she had just shut her phone off and didn't want to speak with me. No matter how unlikely that seemed to a rational human being, my mind decided that was the case. I got up and paced, watching out the window at my driveway. More time passed, and still no sign of her.
And then my phone rang. I hurried to the coffee table where I put it down when she hadn't answered, hoping it was her, but it wasn't. The number on the caller ID was Dr. Blake's. It frustrated me. I almost didn't answer. I was off work and not on call, and I didn’t want to deal with work-related stress right now, but something inside me compelled me to pick up. I swiped right to answer.
"Yeah, it's Dr. Stewart," I grumbled into the phone, and Farah sounded a bit frantic.
"Dr. Stewart, we have a problem."
"Well what is it? Spit it out." I probably sounded really angry or bent out of shape, but it was hard to keep my frustration with Ashley out of my tone. She was standing me up, which felt almost as bad as being cheated on in my insecure mind.
"Dr. Stewart, Mrs. Maier almost died. We're running labs to confirm, but we found an empty syringe of potassium chloride in the Sharps container in her room."
My breath caught in my throat, and I instantly felt guilty for snapping at Dr. Blake. The weight of what was happening hit me like a truck. Mrs. Maier fit the same exact profile as the other two patients who had died—post surgery, with severe pain and an uncertain prognosis due to cancer or complications of it. I should have seen this coming. And she was Ashley's patient, which threatened to stop my heart.
"Where is Dr. Sutton now?" I asked, already moving toward the car. I grabbed my keys on the way out the door. It made sense how I hadn’t heard from her. If something this shocking had happened, it was no wonder she wasn't here or responding to my calls. She was probably terrified and looking for answers.
"No one has heard from her since the incident happened around one this afternoon." Dr. Blake sounded more concerned than accusatory, but that didn't mean no one was pointing at Ashley for this. It was her patient. "And Dr. Stewart, she was the last person seen in the patent’s room. The police are here questioning everyone."
The fear in Farah's voice matched mine. I hung up and dropped my phone into the passenger seat as I started the car and backed down the driveway. If Ashley wasn't at the hospital, she'd be at home, and if she wasn't there, I knew she'd be with Calvin.
There was no way she did this. Not only was she not even in Boston when the first patients died of poisoning, but there were a few more—ones she pointed out to me which confirmed to me that even Dr. Blake couldn't have been responsible. Ashley never shook that suspicion, but I had dismissed it immediately. Now, whoever was doing this was targeting Ashley's patients, and I had to get to her to make sure she was okay.
I drove like a maniac and thought a couple of times, I saw a cop. I wouldn't have stopped if they tried to pull me over. I'd have called 9-1-1 and told them my emergency and why I had to drive so fast. Luckily for me, I didn't run into any and I made it to her apartment in record time. I raced up to her floor and banged on the door so hard it shook on the hinges and roused the neighbor who shouted to keep it down.
After a few minutes, a very distraught woman opened the door and I barreled into her living room and wrapped my arms around her sobbing form. She tucked her face into my chest and cried and mumbled things I didn’t understand. She was so hysterical I thought I'd never calm her down. I walked her over to the sofa and made her sit, then got her a glass of water from the kitchen and a paper towel to wipe her face because I couldn’t find a box of tissues fast enough.
"Whoa, hey, calm down," I purred, smoothing her hair down her back. She sipped the water with shaking hands and shook her head.
"I didn't do it, Jack. I swear. I was confused and overwhelmed and?—"
"Whoa, stop. Start from the beginning." I took the water from her trembling hands and set it on the table. Ashley took a deep breath and tried again.
"I was distracted. I have a lot on my mind today, you know, with things between you and me uncertain." She gestured with her hand between us and then continued. "I can't remember if I gave the patient her antibiotic or if it was something else. When I heard they thought it was potassium chloride, I left the hospital and turned my phone off. I freaked out."
It was as bad as I feared but it wasn't the end of the world. "Look, first of all, Klotrix or Klor-Con aren't really stored in patient room lockups. Alright? So you'd have had to go to the pharmacy to get that. And if it was there, someone else put it there. You know you'd never purposefully harm a patient."
My explanation didn't seem to help at all. She started crying again and this time, she stood and ran. I barely got my legs out of the way so she didn't trip. And when I heard vomiting, I got up and followed her and saw her worshiping the porcelain goddess like a college coed on spring break. I held her hair back and offered her tissues, then waited as she brushed her teeth and blew her nose again.
"I don't want to talk about it, Jack. I just want to be held.” The pleading look on her face was so needy, I couldn’t refuse her. I followed her into her bedroom and kicked off my shoes and climbed into bed.
When she laid down, I curled up around her and kissed the back of her head gently. This was definitely not just a "fling" type interaction. She was in need of comfort and she chose me to comfort her. I could have walked into her apartment to find Gooding here, but I hadn't and that encouraged me. But now wasn't the time for me to lay into her about that and demand she choose one of us like I had planned. It was, however, a good time for me to show my affection.
So I lay there while she calmed herself. I listened as she talked about her fears, trying not to interrupt her with my own thoughts, since that seemed to upset her. And when she turned to face me, the only thing on my mind was doing whatever it took to protect her and help her feel better. The police would see right through any accusations about her being the perpetrator. I knew that much. But she didn't believe me.
When she asked, "Comfort me, Jack," and laced her fingers through my hair, I couldn't think of anything else I'd rather do. I would give her my entire world if she asked for it.
I kissed her gently at first, hands tracing her curves, until she rolled me over and straddled me. Clearly, to Ashley, getting lost in this moment with romance and passion wasn't what she had in mind. She became a feral animal, tearing at and discarding our clothing until we were naked and tangled in each other.
“I want this. I want you,” she whispered, and then she draped herself across my chest and kissed me hard, biting my lower lip. Her tongue was a masterful dancer, knowing every button to press and place to tease.
"Ashley," I groaned, my voice nothing more than a low growl of desire. I gripped her curves and pulled her down harder onto my body. Her slit was soaking, drenching my hard dick to prepare me to enter her. I had no condom, but this time, I didn’t want one. I wanted to feel her, to be in her and become one with her.
“Please,” she whimpered, grinding her core on my firmness. There was no foreplay of bringing her to the edge again and again before I took her. She was insistent, needy. “I want you inside me, Jack.”
“Oh, God, woman, I want to be in you. I don’t want anything to separate us, nothing between us.” As much as my words were asking permission to go without a condom, they were my pleas for her to keep anyone and everyone else out of this union forever. I just couldn’t bring myself to say that again, especially after she snapped at me for being confused. “I love you, Ashley.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and her response was more tears. The salty moisture dripped to my lips, and I kissed it away as I guided her to lift her hips so I could get inside her.
I slipped into her, feeling the wet heat that enveloped me. A moan escaped my own lips, and I couldn't help but groan her name in the process. She gripped me tighter, her nails digging into my skin, demanding for me to move. So I did. Every inch of our bodies pressed together as her heated core engulfed me, squeezing like a vise grip.
It was as if we were fused together, two halves of a broken whole. We moved as one, the bed creaking in response to our passion. I had never felt so alive, so complete. Her tits swayed with my thrusts, and I kneaded one, twisting a nipple. It was incredible. The tension built between us like a roaring fire, consuming us whole until I couldn't take it anymore. I had to slow or I would lose myself in her.
I flipped her over and laid her down, and she clung to me. “Oh, God, I’m so close,” she panted. So, I took my time, massaging her clit while I gave myself a moment to rest. “Jack, I’m so close,” she whimpered again, and I knew how to make her scream. My thumb continued to rub her clit while my tongue found its home at her entrance, teasing. It was only seconds before she was writhing, hips bucking off the bed and smearing her juices on my face.
She convulsed and groaned. Her body shuddered and twitched. Her hands clawed at my skin, and I enjoyed every second of making her forget her fears and get lost with me in this sea of endorphins that connected us. And when she was calm, so was I. I spread her legs and pushed her knees to her chest as I slid back into her.
“I don’t want to use a condom. I want to feel you pulse around my dick, feel your skin as I flood you.” I expected her to say no, to protest and ask for the sleeve, but there was no hesitation or protest.
She said, “Fill me, Jack,” immediately, and it drove me wild.
“Yeah?”
“Yes, fill me. I want to feel you explode inside me.”
Her pleas were frantic and desperate. I drove into her again and again, this time with so much more passion. Things had shifted and changed. She wasn’t insisting on a condom, which meant she was willing to accept the consequences now too. Which meant there was something here, something she hadn't told me, and I wanted it. And I thought she wanted it too.
“Oh, God, your pussy feels incredible,” I growled, and I wished my chest could feel her tits crushed against it, but her legs were folded between our bodies. I knew it made the pressure more intense for her because she felt tighter this way.
“Jack, I’m coming again,” she moaned.
I was close, so close. I didn’t want to finish just yet. I wanted to stay in this moment forever, but she felt so good. Her walls clamped down around me like a vise grip and the intense pleasure was breathtaking. Feeling her skin slide across mine like this made everything more intense.
“I’m there too, baby. I'm coming,” I grunted as the tension coiled in my balls, pulsing through me, and I released inside her. The heat of my release flooded her, gushing in around me, connecting us.
Ashley stretched out her legs as I pulled out. Then I collapsed on top of her, our chests heaving, but it felt different this time. It felt right. My thoughts were consumed by our future and maybe our family. Maybe we could really make this work.
After kissing a bit longer, I rolled off her and pulled her into my arms. She was calmer now, not crying, but not very responsive to me. The release coupled with the emotion of the day made her drowsy. I kissed her temple and pulled sweat-caked ringlets off her face.
"I meant what I said, Ashley. I'm in love with you." I spoke softly, and though I wanted to pour out my heart about everything, now just wasn't the time. She was going through something and she needed me to be her rock, not the man who fell apart. She didn't respond, and I didn’t know what else to say, so I started talking to her about our future, what I might tell her father, how we could really have something good, and then I heard her snoring.
She'd fallen asleep, and I didn’t even know how much she'd heard. My heart ached for her, to help her see how I'd give her the world on a silver platter. But if things didn't go well at the hospital, she'd be looking at silver shackles, not silver platters. I slipped from bed and covered her up. I dressed quietly and set a glass of water on the nightstand along with her phone and a note that I had to go to the hospital to check on some things. To call me if she needed me.
Then I left.
I needed to speak to Nick Fisher before anyone's ideas got out of control. Ashley did not do this. And even if those three previous deaths weren't related and they really were just accidental or natural causes, there was no way it could have been my Ashley. She came here to help me, to save me. Now I had to save her.