Chapter 8 #2
It took us a while to come back to earth. When we did, when we could breathe again, Ville kissed my cheek, then my neck, and eased oh so carefully from my hole.
“Did I hurt you?” He murmured, I felt his fingers there, spreading my ass cheeks, and realized he was checking for physical damage.
“Only in the best possible way,” I assured him, but my voice sounded a little slurred. I tipped my head so I could watch him. I liked the smug smirk he wore.
“That work?” he asked, pointing to the sink in the corner. I nodded.
Ville found yet another blanket, one that wasn’t too thick or dirty, and carried it to the sink.
He turned the handle and it took a few seconds for the water to start, sputtering out with a ton of air first. Then he waited longer for the water to run clear before he soaked one corner of the blanket.
He wiped his own dick first, then righted his clothes before he rinsed the blanket again and brought it over to me. I started to push up while I reached out a hand, but Ville just shook his head and placed a gentle hand on my back. I rested my cheek on the palette again and let him clean me up.
He was very thorough and very careful, then used a different corner to pat me dry. “You’re a bit red and puffy.”
“That’s because you owned me.”
Ville’s smirk grew but when he lifted his gaze, his eyes held a hint of worry. “You sure you’re good?”
“So good,” I assured him, finally pushing upright.
Ville allowed it, then turned to pick up my discarded pants and shook them out.
Then he did the sweetest thing and crouched down, holding them so I could step into them.
He kissed my dick before he settled the waistband into place and I bent to kiss the top of his head.
When he straightened to his full height, I wrapped my arms around him, tucking my head under his chin.
“We’re definitely doing this again, sugar.”
Ville barked out a laugh, pushed his fingers in my hair, and used the hold to tilt my head up. “We’ll see if I allow it.”
A shiver skated down my spine, and I grinned. “Yes. Sir.”
I headed back into the house with a hitch in my step and a smile on my face. I was going to sneak right up the stairs to clean up better and change, but I caught sight of my mom leaning on the island and my doctor brain activated.
“Mom!” I rushed over and helped her to stand up, gaze roving over her face. She was pale and diaphoretic, her breath coming in short pants. I watched as she swallowed hard and immediately set my fingers on her wrist. Her pulse was way too fast and irregular. I didn’t like it at all.
“I’m fine,” she insisted through clenched teeth.
“Any chest pain?” I asked, striving for my calm doctor’s voice. My brain had latched onto one thing, which I’d seen a lot of when I’d done my ED rotation. I searched my brain for the differences in presentation by gender and added, “Or nausea?”
“It’s just indigestion,” she said, giving me a strained smile. A few seconds later, her expression eased and she repeated, “I’m fine.”
“You aren’t. I’m calling an ambulance and—”
“No, you are not.” She glared at me and it was strange, because I knew what I was seeing and I was excellent in a crisis, but still I froze because my mother gave me an order. “Your brother and his girlfriend will be here any minute, and I have lasagna ready to go in the oven.”
I took a breath and helped guide her to a nearby chair.
She tried to fight me but not that hard.
When she sat, she let out a little breath.
Her breathing was easier, but I didn’t like this at all.
But I knew my mom, so I didn’t demand. Instead, I crouched down beside her so I could look into her face.
“I think you’re having an MI.”
Jennifer Harrington had the nerve to “pfft” at me. “I am not. I am in perfect health. My last physical was outstanding.”
I nodded. “I’m sure it was. But right now, your symptoms and your demeanor tell me otherwise. Mom, please, just let me—”
“No. I have too much to do.”
But I wouldn’t let this go. I couldn’t. This was my mom.
“How about you come to the urgent care with me then? We’ll get you checked out and then if I’m wrong you can come straight back here.
” But I wasn’t wrong and I was scared for my mother’s life.
I would go against her wishes if I had to, but I wasn’t just going to let her ignore this.
“There’s no need—”
This time I interrupted her. “I will call Dad and he will make you. Just come to the clinic.”
I watched her mutinous glare, the one she’d passed on to Bodhi, but after a second she relented.
She knew I would do exactly that, and out of the two of them, Dad was the worrier.
He would make a big deal out of it, and she wouldn’t want that.
Thankfully, it worked in my favor, because it meant I could get her care.
I raced to the front door and grabbed her shoes and the huge tote she used as a purse. She was breathing okay right now, but I checked her pulse again. Still erratic and tachy. Sweat beaded her brow. But she walked on her own to my SUV.
It only took ten minutes to get to the clinic.
I might have pushed the speed limit, but Russell Crossing Family Care was on this side of town.
I’d never been so grateful for that as now.
I parked in one of the spots reserved for doctors though I usually didn’t bother.
It was stupid that physicians got to park close to the front doors.
Right now, that worked in my favor, too.
Holding my mom’s arm, I bypassed the waiting room entirely, and straight to the triage area. Was it fair of me to use my privilege to get her immediate treatment? Probably not. Then again, if anyone came in with chest pain, SOB, and diaphoresis, they would have been fast tracked anyway.
Lindsey was at the triage desk, which eased some of my worry. The two of us had a good relationship. Her eyes widened when she saw us and she immediately jumped up.
“Vitals and twelve lead, stat,” I said, still trying for calm. I heard the shaking in my own voice though. Lindsey nodded, grabbed a nearby wheelchair, and pushed it closer.
“Come on, Mrs. Harrington. You’re going for a ride.”
“This isn’t necessary,” Mom grumbled.
“Just do it, please,” I said, and Mom sat, but she scowled at me.
Lindsey wheeled her into a room and I waited outside, my foot tapping.
Technically, I shouldn’t treat my mom. It wasn’t ethical.
But given the situation, I didn’t care. Luz was in-house today and she would have to look over everything anyway as well as sign off.
But I was waiting right here until I saw things myself.
It didn’t take long. Vitals were a fairly quick process and the longest part of an EKG was getting all the leads placed. I picked at my cuticles, staring at the door. Eventually, Lindsey emerged, her face grave, and handed over the strip.
All it took was one glance.
“Aspirin and sublingual nitro,” I stated, gaze on the T wave inversions. “And call for transport.”
“Right away.”
I pushed into the room without knocking. Mom took one look at my face and her eyes went wide.
“You’re having an NSTEMI, Mom.”
“My heart is still beating so I think you must be mistaken.” She said it like she was trying to convince herself.
“It’s a heart attack, not cardiac arrest. We want to avoid that.
We’re going to get you some meds to help and transport you by ambulance.
” I looked her dead in the eye. “Don’t argue with me and don’t make a fuss.
We get you to Memorial, you get treatment, and you’ll be fine. But it’s happening now.”
It took her just a second for that to sink in. Then her voice was shaky and scared as she asked, “Call your daddy?”
I smirked even though I was worried out of my head. “What’s the bet he gets here before the ambulance does?”
Her laugh was tremulous. “That’s a sucker’s bet.”
And it was. There was no doubt my dad would race the entire way here. He’d probably make it in less than ten minutes. My mom was the love of his life after all.