Chapter 4
One minute you’re young and free and the next minute you’re super excited about the grocery pickup order you just placed having no substitutions or out of stock items.
—Ellodie to her mom
ELLODIE
“Ellodie!” a male voice, sounding impatient and put out, called out to me from the other side of the curtain.
I came out of the gang banger’s room, my heart racing, nervous that I’d been caught.
“Follow me, Ellodie.”
I nearly groaned.
The last thing I wanted to do was follow the doctor, seeing as I had illegal substances in my pocket that needed to be disposed of, but his insistence that I follow him had my feet reluctantly dragging myself in his direction.
We arrived in the young mom’s room who’d been plaguing my thoughts all morning.
She’d come in with a raging infection in her breast from mastitis, and I knew that she’d waited so long because she couldn’t afford to pay.
Yet, she was so sick and lethargic this morning that when an ambulance had been called on her behalf, she’d had no other alternative but to follow their orders because she couldn’t argue.
She’d been too out of it.
“All right, Ms. Melina,” the doctor said as he swept into the room. “The results are in. You have a very bad infection that I’m worried might be antibiotic resistant. SoI’m going to prescribe you this medication…”
The doctor went on to explain a few more things, and I listened with half an ear.
“On this medication, you’ll have to pump and dump,” the doctor said with a bored tone.
“But… how will I feed my baby?”
Dr. PeterBrewn shook his head. “Honey, I’m not sure how you’re going to do this. I do know that if you don’t take this medication, you might die. This infection is wicked.”
I liked Dr. Brewn. He was a great doctor to work with.
But sometimes he didn’t see the bigger picture.
Like, it wouldn’t matter if this mother survived if she couldn’t feed her baby.
“But if I can’t feed her my milk…”
“We’ll provide you with some formula. I’ll have Ellodie here run up to the postpartum unit and steal some.” Dr. Brewn grinned.
I would do that for her… after I got rid of the stuff burning its way through my pocket.
“She’ll go do that now,” he said. “And we’ll get you started on this IV medication.”
I took the chance to dash out of the room, running toward the closest bathroom that wasn’t on the unit itself.
The moment I was in the bathroom, I slammed and locked the door.
Once by myself, I immediately grabbed for the drugs in my pocket and started dumping them into the toilet.
I’d taken the drugs from the gang patient’s room when he left to go get an X-ray.
I knew I shouldn’t have done it.
Truthfully, I should’ve called the cops.
ButI didn’t because to call the cops for the drugs, I would have to give up the cash, and I wasn’t super excited about doing that.
After it was all dumped, I went to the sink and washed my hands very, very well, then flushed the toilet with my foot.
My hand went back into my pocket, and I felt the roll of money there, making my heart race even more.
I needed to get rid of it. Fast.
WhenI’d started doing this a few months ago, it’d been a way to get the director to take the crime that was happening down in the ER seriously.
Then when he’d all but ignored it, I’d decided that if I had to, I’d pay for the stupid security myself.
AndI’d done it by stealing some money here and there from people who didn’t deserve it.
Truthfully, I was feeling morally gray right now, and I wasn’t sure how to reconcile that.
My gaze firmly on the floor, I opened the door to the bathroom, and immediately went upstairs to the postpartum floor and smiled my way into getting four cans of formula.
I came back down to the ER with my loot, and smiled as I made it into the woman’s room.
Her eyes were heavy and slightly dejected when they came to me but lit up upon seeing the cans of formula.
“These were about to expire,” I said to her. “They’ll last you well into the end of next month, according to the expiration date, but I managed to sneak one of the cans that doesn’t expire until the end of the year, too. Just in case. I’m going to put these in your hospital bag, okay?”
The baby, who had been sleeping quite soundly until I’d walked in, woke with a jerk and started looking around.
I winced. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t have any bottles,” she murmured.
“Oh!” I snapped my fingers and reached into my pocket, pulling out the two smaller bottles that I’d managed to snatch from there, too.
“And this one,” I said as I showed it to her. “Fits onto a water bottle. You can feed the baby just with this alone as long as you can find a water bottle.”
The mom’s eyes finally warmed.
The baby started to scream then, and I said, “These are small, and I have no clue how much the baby’ll eat since you’ve been breast feeding and all, but they’ll do in a pinch, right?”
The mom nodded, sitting up, and wincing as she did.
God, I couldn’t even imagine how an infection like that would feel in my breasts. Poor mom.
“Looks like your antibiotics are almost finished, too,” I said as I checked all the lines. “I’ll go let your nurse know.”
Feeling somewhat better about everything, I headed out to the main ER and found that there were a bunch of nurses gathered around the nurses’ station.
I headed in that direction and stopped the nurse in charge of the mom’s care.
“Hey,” I said to her. “Your patient’s IV is almost finished. I got her lined up with some formula, but she’s gonna need a bigger bag to take it all home.”
“She’s gonna need more than that,” Jasmine murmured. “The poor thing. She’s homeless and is living in a shelter. She works two jobs to make ends meet, and if my guesses are correct, I think she’s running from someone.”
That was awful.
But it got my mind to thinking…
“Hey, your lunch is up, Ellodie!” the charge nurse said from the middle of the huddle.
“What’s going on?” I asked Patricia, the charge nurse.
“Cops are here asking questions,” Patricia rolled her eyes. “Patient in room three assaulted a nurse.”
Anger boiled in my gut.
This was exactly what I was fucking talking about.
Working in this emergency room was becoming ridiculously unsafe.
Even worse, it was par for the course.
I’d yet to work in a hospital, or do clinicals during my schooling, that cared even an iota about their employees. It was as if they were just ambivalent. This was income to them. They just saw dollar signs while the rest of us nurses saw patients.
The director needed to get his head out of his ass before everyone went on strike, which was what they were considering, and had been talking about for the last week.
This nurse getting hurt might be the final straw.
“Who was hurt?” I asked.
“Billy,” Patricia answered.
“Was it his patient?” I asked. “Or mine?”
“Yours,” Patricia answered. “He came back in from X-ray and got belligerent when Billy went in there to help get him situated and saw him wearing colors from the other gang.”
“What?” I asked.
We all had to wear uniforms.
There was no way that he was wearing any gang’s colors.
Literally, all we could wear was blue scrubs.
“My underwear,” Billy said as he came up. “Apparently, the teal and orange of the Breakers gang.”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” John, another nurse that didn’t usually work our shift, said as he crossed his arms. “We’re lucky it was a male, though. Imagine if he pushed Ellodie like that. She would’ve wound up through the wall and into the other room.”
Billy pulled his shirt up to show me the bruising that was already starting. “Oh my God.”
They were right, though. Had that been me, I would’ve been unconscious or worse.
“Billy’s gonna keep that patient,” Patricia said. “They sedated him and already called the cops and the hospital director.”
Good.
But not good enough.
“This is a joke,” I said as I shook my head. “I’m headed up to the cafeteria, then I’m going to grab some coffee from Starbucks on the way back. Anyone who wants anything, text me your order.”
Patricia pulled out her phone and said, “We’ll get it sent.”
Lunch consisted of a fried chicken sandwich, sub-par fries, and a slice of chocolate pie.
By the time I was finished, I’d gotten the order for the coffee. I headed through the breezeway that crossed a major road down below, and went into the next building that had the Starbucks and all outpatient surgeries, as well as doctors’ offices.
AsI was passing over the road, I happened to look down and see the mama and baby from earlier standing next to the bus stop.
It caused my heart to hurt.
She was loaded down with bags, her baby, and looked like she was about to fall over.
The money in my pocket felt like it warmed to uncomfortable levels, and I decided that I knew where that money was going to go.
After placing the orders for the coffee, I made a mad dash down two flights of stairs and out of the building to where I knew the woman would still be waiting.
The bus didn’t run this way for another twenty minutes, giving me enough time to get to her.
I walked to the woman on the street corner, unaware that I had eyes on me, and reached into my pocket for the money.
“Hey,” I said as I pulled it out and tucked it into her hand that was holding her baby.
She looked at it, then burst into tears.
Big, ugly sobs.
The small baby that she’d just walked out of the hospital with, unsure what or how she was going to make ends meet or how she was going to pay for formula for her after being told she couldn’t breastfeed, cooed.
It was so sweet.
“Thank you, thank you,” she cried through her tears.
I patted her hand and said, “You have another fifteen minutes at least until the bus runs. Have a seat at the table right there before you fall.”
She gave me a relieved look, then did just that.
“Take care of yourself, honey,” I murmured, then made my way back inside to my drinks that were almost ready.
After catching them all up in two hands, I headed back to the ER, handing out cups to nurses as I went.
I’d just sat down to chart and savor my first sip of coffee when I was interrupted.
“Hey, Ellodie. There’s a man in the hallway who’s asking for you,” Jasmine called out.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, hoping it wasn’t Frederick, who’d decided to pull out all the stops to win me back.
It’d been three days since we’d broken up, and in those three days, he’d sent flowers to me at work twice, ordered me lunch, and had come by twice as well.
Getting up, I made my way around the corner and out into the hallway to find…
“HotCop,” I murmured so quietly that I prayed he didn’t hear.
“Ms. Solaire?”
I opened my mouth to say yes, but he nodded. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I’mQuaidCarter. An officer with DallasPoliceDepartment.”
I already knew his name. I’d gotten on social media to find out exactly that—yes, I’d had to up the man’s name.
And there he was, standing in the middle of the hospital hallway, staring at me with those green eyes of his. Jesus, they were even more beautiful in the harsh lighting of the hospital hallway.
“Yes,” I affirmed.
He offered his hand. “I have a few questions to ask you.”
I automatically held my hand out to him, unable to stop myself even if I’d tried.
The electric zing that rolled through me as our palms touched was downright terrifying.
I blinked. “Oh. What can I help you with, Officer?”
He gestured toward a vacant room, and closed the door behind us.
I started to get nervous, thinking back to that money I’d stolen earlier.
Or the money I’d stolen last week.
Or the watch.
Or the…
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything is… fine?” he hedged. “I’m here to ask you about a date you had a few months or so ago. His name was BenediktWells.”
I curled my lip up at the name.
BenediktWells was even worse than Frederick, and that was saying something.
“Well, if you’re here to tell me he murdered some woman in the woods, I wouldn’t be surprised.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
Jesus, I sure could pick them.
QuaidCarter blinked, then shook his head. “Actually, that’s exactly why I’m here. Why did you know to say that?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it, immediately feeling like a complete asshole.
I felt tears well up in my eyes, then shook my head as a wave of sadness rolled over me.
“I didn’t know,” I admitted. “Really, I was just thinking he was prime serial killer material. WhenI started talking to him online, he asked me to go hiking with him. I said no, asked to go to a more public place like a coffee shop or a restaurant, and he argued and argued with me about how he was a good guy. He did this all the time. He always went out when people were there, and we wouldn’t be alone. AfterI denied him each time, he’d get angrier and angrier, until one day I had to tell him that no date was ever going to happen.”
Quaid blinked. “That’s...”
“Crazy,” I said.
Movement behind him caught my eye, and a flash of familiarity hit me as I saw the other cop come through the doors and stop to talk to the security officer. I couldn’t see his full face, but what I could make out looked an awful lot like…
That’s when it hit me. This man had a twin. I’d seen him in here a time or two while working. I’d also seen him at the grocery store with a friend who worked in radiology, HollisAue, not too long ago.
And the reason I remembered the man so vividly was due to him telling us to control ourselves when a woman who had sixty-plus items in her cart tried to go to a lane reserved for twenty-five items or less.
“Do you have a twin?” I blurted.
OfficerCarter blinked, then nodded, caught off guard by my change in subject.
“Is he standing right behind me?” he asked.
Then, like out of a scene from one of my why choose books, the man was joined by another.
And though they didn’t look enough alike to say they were identical twins, they did look very, very similar.
OfficerCarter turned and snorted. “Actually, I’m a triplet. The one talking to the security guard is one of the triplets. The other one is just my brother.”
“Y’all all look very similar,” I mused.
“That’ll happen when you have the same parents,” he said, then sobered. “The reason I’m reaching out is because I have a friend who works with the FBI. His name is SpecialAgentTobinMcGraw. He arrived in town a few days ago, and it was due to a suspected serial killer being in our area. The serial killer seems to be targeting young women who look like you. All of them were on dating apps, and were asked to go hiking, where they were later found murdered after they failed to check in with friends.”
My stomach sank.
“Shit,” I said softly. “That’s awful. How many?”
“Here? Two. Elsewhere? Thirty-two,” he answered.
Thirty-two!
“What?” I gasped.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he confirmed for a second time. “You’re the only one alive who’s had any contact with him.”
I was already shaking my head.
“I talked to him for about two weeks on a dating app. Farmer’sSingles.” I pulled out my phone and started swiping through the screens until I got to the app. “This one.”
I showed him the screen, and he reached out while politely asking, “MayI?”
“Of course,” I said as I handed him my phone, and then moved so I could stand beside him and show him. “If you go here, you can see all the messages.”
I flushed at a few of them.
In the first one that I’d swiped as ‘no’ this morning, it was a thumbnail photo of a guy’s dick.
The next one was a dick, too.
And every fifth one from there.
“If you swipe down… there,” I said as I got to the guy’s name. “This is him.”
“FarmerJoe122,” he mused. “Did he say his name?”
I opened my mouth to answer, only to close it seconds later. “I assumed it was BenediktWells.” I admitted. “Is it not that?”
“Did he get yours?” he asked ignoring my question.
I nodded. “Mine’s in my profile name.”
“Yeah, I see that.” He paused. “Ellodiecandriveatractor?” He chuckled at my username.
That laughter sent tingles down to parts that hadn’t gotten tingles before.
“I can do more than just run a tractor,” I admitted. “I grew up on a farm. I know how to wrangle cows, shoe horses, lift hay bales for hours, and run a grain cart without my father yelling at me.”
He laughed at that, likely knowing it was an accomplishment. Dads were hard to impress. “I grew up holding a flashlight for my dad when he was working on a car. I can assume those are about the same feelings.”
“Probably,” I smiled. “Anyway, back to freak guy. I didn’t ever get his name, but I know he got mine, because he always addressed me as…” I reached over his impressively muscled forearm and scrolled up to a day that he’d messaged. “There. He always said, ‘Hello, my dearest Ellodie.’”
“Gross,” he mumbled. “Do you mind if I scroll through this?”
“Not at all,” I said. “ButI have to go back to work because I’ve been off for the last forty-five minutes for lunch. Would you mind bringing it back to me when you’re done?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “Do you have a nurses’ lounge I can hang out in for a while?”
I gestured to him to follow me, and he did.
Taking him into the break room, which I figure being a cop he already knew we had, I told him to pick a seat but pointed out my favorite. “If you sit there, you can lean back against the wall. It almost feels like you are reclined.”
His grin was small, but there. “Thanks, Calamity.”
I went back to work for what felt like forever before he finally came back to hand over my phone.
Unfortunately, I was hand deep in a woman’s chest at the time.
He watched me work, and I felt his eyes on me, but with a doctor yelling at me to hold pressure, and the woman staring at me like I was her lifeline, I couldn’t pull away. I did feel all warm and gooey inside, though. Like warm hot chocolate on the coldest day of the year.
It was a very long time later when I felt the hand slide around my hip. I also felt the drop of my phone into my pocket.
And an hour later, I was finally able to pull it out to see it.
On the phone there was a post-it note that read:
Thank you. I programmed my office number into your phone. If you can think of anything more helpful, or anything else you might want me to know, or even want to share a bite of pancake, give me a call.
P.S. Your mom texted. I texted her back because she sounded like she was going to have a coronary if you didn’t reply right then.
Quaid.
I was smiling over the note and thinking about how I got the sexy cop’s phone number, even if it was an office number, while I was waiting for the shuttle that would take me to the employee approved parking area.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a woman with brown hair making a mad dash out of the building.
The fast movement caught my eye, and I turned to watch the streak of blue scrubs with beautiful brown hair make her way to her car that was parked—illegally might I add—in the tow-away zone right outside of the hospital.
More power to her.
I wish I had the ability to totally disregard the law like her.
Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t be waiting for a shuttle for fifteen minutes after I got off work, only to have to take another fifteen-minute shuttle ride to where the hospital felt like we should park our cars.
Then again, maybe I was a rebel after all.
I did steal some gang banger’s drugs and money today…
“The blatant disregard for rules and regulations,” Dr. Brewn grumbled as he came up to stand beside me.
I smiled at him. “I don’t know. She may have the right of it. You probably don’t know it but sitting here waiting for the shuttle to come around sucks. I have to get here forty-five minutes early every day to make sure that I get to work on time. Just sayin’, but if a doctor is on board the shuttle, the bus driver’s been informed to always drop y’all off first. And the doctors’ lot is well out of the way from the nurses’ lot.”
Dr. Brewn frowned. “Is it? I didn’t know they did that.”
“They gave you that covered parking on Airline,” I said. “Our parking lot is off of WestStreet near the interstate.”
He opened his mouth, and then closed it.
“That’s…” he hesitated. “I’m sorry.”
That was just how this backward hospital worked.
Funny enough, it was also what motivated me to become a nurse anesthetist.
The whole anesthesia team had a covered parking area next to the hospital. I’d seen them there chatting outside of their cars about a minute and a half after the end of their shifts. They had a full-blown conversation, shared a dessert from the place next door, and had left before the shuttle had even arrived.
Honestly, I’d known that I was going to further my career in some way, but I hadn’t known the exact path I was going to take.
But after seeing them that day, I’d decided that I wanted to have a cushy parking spot like them. And they were the only team besides the trauma surgeons that had close parking spots.
Though, I certainly wasn’t going to go the medical doctor route. I’d already gone through four years of nursing school. Not to mention, I didn’t want that much debt to my name.
“It is what it is,” I said when I finally spotted the shuttle.
We stepped toward the line, and the nurses who were waiting visibly groaned when they saw Dr. Brewn beside me.
Internally, I did, too.
It would be adding another twelve and a half minutes to our route, at best.
Dr. Brewn paused, hesitated, and then stepped back.
I looked at him with raised eyebrows.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I forgot my phone.” He smiled. “I’ll catch the next one.”
Everyone visibly sighed with relief upon his words.
ButI had a feeling the sweet man only stayed behind because he felt bad for us.
He was just the sweetest.