8. Reed
Chapter eight
Reed
Pleasure and pain mix deliciously in my dream-like state. Every flash of Thalia I get is perfection: her long, raven hair flowing over her shoulders, the rounded, teardrop-shaped breasts that bounce with every movement, and her little gasps that send me into feral desire.
What I’ve conjured is so real—tangible—that when I rouse from my sleep, I slap a hand to the cold and empty spot beside me, expecting to feel her there. I sit up quickly, disoriented and my head pounding like I was hit by a fucking truck as I gasp and blink wearily into the darkness of my room.
There’s no one here.
It really was a dream.
I press my hands to the sides of my nose as I rest my elbows on my knees. My alarm blares to my left, but I ignore it as I try to make sense of how tightly Thalia has me wrapped around her finger.
It was just so real. I felt her skin beneath mine, and the way her pulse fluttered. I can still remember how her pussy gripped me like a vice and I knew I wasn’t going to last long with her.
As I move to slide towards my bedside table, I feel the sheets sticking to me and my lips twist into a sneer.
Great. I fist fucked myself in my sleep to a patient. Just wonderful!
I slap a hand over the alarm clock before dragging my fingers down my face. Something glints on my stand and I do a double-take at the syringe lying there.
I stare at it, baffled for a moment, before I snatch it and lift it to my nose.
Sweet and slightly fruity.
“Midazolam,” I mutter in disbelief as my frown deepens.
I didn’t do this.
In all of my years as a professional, I’ve never once accidentally taken home sedatives. Someone was here.
I toss the syringe down as if it’s burned me before standing on shaky legs. I have to catch myself on the bed before my knees buckle.
What the fuck?
Disorientation, slight nausea, and hazy memories.
Someone drugged me.
“Motherfucker!” I curse before dragging my loopy ass to the bathroom. I flick on the light, taking in the dark bags under my eyes before my gaze catches on something blood-stopping.
The memory slams into me hard, nearly sending me into psychosis.
Carve your fucking initials into my skin, Thalia.
It was real.
It was…
IT WAS FUCKING REAL!
I grab the mirror of my medicine cabinet, almost ripping it from the wall as I swing it open in my direction. My eyes widen until they can’t anymore, and I’m left gawking at the carving of the letters TK over my god-damned heart!
I’m flying through my apartment like a bat out of hell as I throw on my clothes. The whole time, the memories of our night together assault me like a picture-perfect painting of fucked up.
“I…oh, god,” I slap my cheek hard as I stalk through the parking garage to my car.
I get behind the wheel, burying my face in my hands.
“She broke into my apartment, drugged me, then fucked me! No big deal. I’m fine.
” I laugh hysterically, the sound bouncing through the cab as I pull out of my designated spot.
“And she carved her initials into my chest. It’s fine, Reed. Everything is normal.”
Fuck if it is, but I don’t have the time to spiral. I need to confront Thalia.
Why?
I don’t know! Maybe to clarify why she did it? All I know is that I make a ten-minute drive in seven minutes, only to slow in front of the hospital when I see a string of police cars out front.
My heart plummets as I pull into the doctor’s designated parking and throw my door open. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
The worst scenario filters through my head.
Thalia called the police the moment she made it back to report me. What else could explain the sudden flurry of women and men in blue sweeping into the ER’s entrance?
I’m royally screwed.
As I stumble through the automatic doors, there’s a sweat building on my brow as I try to compile a story. I left the syringe at home, so I have nothing to back up my claims.
“Reed?”
I whip around to Taryn, who’s in the middle of speaking with one of the police officers. He’s tall and flanked by a woman also dressed in the standard blue uniform of the state patrol.
“Dr. Bellamy?” The officer asks.
I swallow, mentally preparing myself for the storm. This is it. My career is over. “Yes?”
“I’m Officer Grant and this is Officer Diaz. We’re here to ask you a few questions about a patient you may have had contact with.” The police officer says as he flips a page in his notepad.
“Um,” I glance at Taryn, who shrugs. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Do you remember Thalia Kingsley?”
Fuck me.
I clear my throat. “Yes, I did surgery to remove a bullet from her shoulder a few days ago.”
The officer nods. “And where would she be located?”
“ICU,” Taryn supplies as her eyes flicker to me in question.
“Can I ask what this is about?” I probe.
The officer closes his notebook. “Well, it looks like your former patient may be connected to the death of a political candidate. Arthur Stout was shot and killed the same night Ms. Kingsley was rushed to the hospital. She fell from the roof of the building, we believe she set up as her hideaway point. We have enough witnesses to issue a warrant for her arrest.”
A startled laugh leaves me, and Taryn shoots me a shut the fuck up look. I quickly mask my snicker with a cough as I shake my head. “This has got to be a misunderstanding. She doesn’t seem like the type to do something like that.”
The officers share a glance before Diaz tilts her head. “And did you know the suspect well?”
I’m incriminating myself.
“No!” I say quickly, holding up my hands. “No, I didn’t know her well. She just seemed…delicate.”
Taryn’s lips thin.
Officer Grant chuckles heartily as he slaps my shoulder. “Guess we’ll see for ourselves in just a moment how delicate she is.”
He rounds up the other officers, and I volunteer to lead them upstairs. Taryn watches us leave, and I know I’m in for the third degree later.
Right now?
All I can think about is how insane this is.
Thalia? A killer?
Sure, she may have broken into my house and drugged me, but she isn’t a complete psychopath.
People who murder tend to lack empathy and remorse.
Most can often be diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder.
But I didn’t see any of those signs in the fiery, raven-haired woman. She looked haunted, but not empty.
I’m sure it’s all one big mistake.
As we make it to the fourth floor, I greet Charlotte at the nurse’s station. “Hey, is Thalia in? These guys have some questions for her.”
The nurse nods before leading us to Thalia’s room. “She was just about to do PT—” Charlotte stops when the door swings open to reveal an empty room. She whips around to us, her eyes full of alarm. “She was just here!”
“Call a code yellow!” I shout to the other nurses. Everyone scrambles into action as the officers divide into three different groups and sweep the whole hospital from top to bottom.
It’s one big clusterfuck that leaves me moving around robotically all day. Even as I fill out charts and see patients, it’s like I’m just going through the motions rather than being present.
Why would she leave against medical advice?
Where is she now?
Why didn’t she say goodbye?
The last one makes an unpleasant feeling circle my gut. Bitterness. Disappointment.
I shouldn’t be upset that she didn’t say goodbye. I shouldn’t still be thinking about our night together as my workday draws to a close. But I can’t help the perfect flashes in my head as I close out my computer.
The way she clung to me as she whimpered. The heat in those siren-blue eyes of hers. The kiss we shared made me feel more than I have in…ever.
It’s all there.
“Do you think she did it?” Taryn asks quietly from beside me as I pack up my bag.
“What?” I’m having to pull myself through the daydream just to process what my friend said. “Uh, no. Not at all.”
Thalia may have been a little loose and carefree, but nothing can convince me that my Mystery Girl was a killer.
Not my Mystery Girl.
She’s gone, Reed.
No matter how much that fact hurts, I have to pull it together.
“Good thing our contract is up this week,” Taryn nudges me with her elbow. “Hey, why don’t we give New York a try this time?”
I push the ER back door open, leading her out to the parking lot as I chuckle. “New York, huh? That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea—”
“Reed,” Taryn mumbles in shock beside me.
“What?” I follow her gaze, my face falling the moment I see that my parking spot is vacant. My car is gone, and I think I know exactly who took it.