Chapter 12
Tacy
“Tacy, your patient in one-forty-two just called and asked for another pitcher of water,” Malik says as he slips a small tube into the front pocket of his scrubs. “I just filled it for her like fifteen minutes ago. She’s got the thirst. Sorry, I’d get it for her but my patient in one-forty-five is having a fucking meltdown without her pain meds. So, I got to go handle that first.”
I smile at him, “it’s no problem, Mal. Thanks, Hun.”
Malik and I have worked together on the same hospital floor for the past five years. He’s a gem of a person and an even better nurse. He came to this country from Nigeria a decade ago with nothing but a little cash in his pocket and a dream to make a better life for himself. He’s highly dedicated to his job and to helping people. And always has my back on the floor.
I grab a bag of saline and an infusion line and head to room one-forty-two. I knock on the door and announce myself as I enter.
“Hey Miss Cindy, still thirsty?”
I sanitize my hands and approach the bed where a twenty-something woman is lying on her side, facing the window. Back towards me. She must be sleeping.
I check her IV pump. Her saline is almost gone, so I replace it with a new bag. I walk over to her bedside table and lift the pitcher. Empty. The cup beside it is empty too. Not even an ice cube left. Then I glance at Cindy’s face. Her eyes are wide open, staring at the window.
“Cindy? Are you okay?”
Something’s not right. I walk over to her and gently shake her shoulder.
“Cindy?”
She doesn’t respond. I shake her harder. Nothing. I look for movement of her chest and place my hand in front of her mouth. She’s not fucking breathing. FUCK. I check her wrist for a pulse. Nothing. I press the code blue button on the wall and shout for help.
Within seconds, the code team files in and starts working on Cindy. Doctors, respiratory therapists, and residents enter the room. There’s shouting, equipment moving in and out, doctors ordering medications to be pushed through her IV, and someone brings in the defibrillator. The respiratory therapist intubates her and…although I’ve seen people code at least a couple of dozen times before, this one gets to me. The world around me gets blurry. It’s like I’m walking through a cloud and can barely hear or understand the words coming out of my co-workers’ mouths. The world goes dark.
I wake up on my ass in the hallway, just outside room one-forty-two. Malik is crouched beside me, a box of orange juice in his hand.
“Tacy, are you all right?”
I blink my eyes open and peer around.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I mumble and stand to my feet. Still a little hazy, I lean against the wall. “I’m fine.”
“Doesn’t seem like it,” Mal says and hands me the juice. “Drink up.”
“It’s not my blood sugar,” I retort. “I don’t…I don’t fucking know what’s wrong with me.”
“Isn’t this the second time you’ve passed out this month?”
I nod and drink the juice down despite my protests.
“Maybe stress?” He suggests.
“Maybe,” I shrug. The sugar hits my bloodstream, and I remember my patient. “Oh my god! What happened her? What happened to Cindy?”
I burst through her room, and notice the bed is gone along with my patient. Malik stands beside me.
“They got her back. She’s in ICU,” he says and touches my shoulder. “Looks like she has a chance to pull through.”
“That’s a relief to hear. But I did nothing to help her.”
“That’s not true. Don’t be down on yourself. You hit that code button and pushed the IV meds, didn’t you?”
I search my memory. Yes, I recall hitting the code button, but I don’t remember giving her any medications.
“I guess so,” I answer. “Did they say what happened to her? Why she went into respiratory arrest?”
Malik shakes his head and fiddles with his nursing badge. “No, I think they’re running tests right now as we speak. You know. You might want to get checked out too, Tace. I’m worried about you.”
I wince. “Nah, I’m fine. It’s just stress. No big deal. It won’t happen again.”
Malik opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by a call light at the end of the hall. “Okay, but promise me if it happens a third time, you’ll see a doctor.”
“I promise,” I say and cross my heart with my finger.
My boss made me take a week off work after the last fainting incident. Said she was concerned for my health and my safety. I assured her there was nothing wrong. She rebutted with, you have plenty of leave, and you’re stressed out. So, take some time to relax, ground and center. I didn’t want to push back too hard, so I agreed. Although, I don’t know what I’ll do for a week at home with nothing to do. I’m one of those people who have to stay busy, or I’ll go nuts.
I run by the grocery store, then drive by the governor’s office building. I stop out front and gaze at the window that used to be his office. That is now where Declan Harvey sits. I pick at a dead piece of skin on my lip.
“What happened to you Sol?” I ask no one. I sit there for another minute, allowing the memories to wash over me. Like when we met and he was laid up in a hospital bed with multiple stitches on his face. He stood up to go to the bathroom and his ass peeked out of his gown, and I nearly spread my legs for him right then and there. The ass on that man. Round and muscular. The back muscles. I knew he could do some damage. So cute that he was embarrassed by it, immediately apologizing and re-fastening the gown. “They really want you to be stark-ass naked in here, don’t they?” He groaned.
And on our honeymoon, when I admitted to him, I have a daddy kink. And a BDSM kink. And that I enjoy lathering up in oil and fucking like bunny rabbits. And a whole myriad of other dirty secrets and fantasies. He fulfilled at least three of my fantasies that same night…all at once. It was then I knew he wasn’t just the love of my life, but the man who could heal me. Not just with his mind, but with his body. With his touch. With his cock. He was the key to unlocking my catharsis.
And my mind flashes to the last day we were together. The morning of the election. I remember waking up lying next to him. He smiled and jumped up and said, “this is the day Daddy becomes big Daddy.” He was always so cheesy. But he was a good man. A good husband. An amazing father. And he didn’t deserve to be thrown into the bay like a fucking piece of trash. He was a king in my eyes. Always had been.
I give Sol’s old window one last glance and say, “I miss you.”
I cry as I drive back to the house. Cammy and Ben are in school and I’m supposed to spend the day relaxing, according to my boss. How the fuck am I supposed to do that? I have a dead husband, a friend who hit on me and is acting like someone entirely different now, a stalker who won’t reveal his identity, and patients who keep dying on my watch.
I pull in the driveway and grab my mace from my glove box. I take it everywhere I go now. Aris, my stalker, claims he won’t hurt me but I did just have a burglar break in so you can never be too safe. I bring the groceries in and shut the front door when my phone buzzes. It’s Declan. I don’t even know if I want to talk to him after what he tried in his office. I don’t know what to say. Did he see my car outside the building or something?
Against my better judgment, I click accept.
“Hi, Declan.”
“Tacy. I’m so sorry about the other week. I shouldn’t have come on that strong. I don’t know what came over me.”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.”
“It’s just. Well…I really like you. I’ve always liked you, but I could never do anything about it. You were Sol’s woman, and Sol was my best friend.”
I’m searching for the right thing to say. My mouth remains open with no words.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. Maybe you will one day,” he suggests.
I nearly laugh. The nerve and arrogance of this guy. Then a thought hits me. It’s him. He’s the stalker. It’s got to be him. I can’t believe I took my fucking clothes off for him. I rubbed my pussy in front of him. Wait, no. Declan isn’t a stocky guy. The silhouette doesn’t match Declan’s physique…unless it was just hard to tell in the dark?
“Anyway. I heard your concern about Duselizab and filed a report with the bureau. They’ll have to at least investigate the deaths at the hospital.”
“Oh my God, thank you Declan,” I sigh. Maybe he isn’t so bad. Maybe the old Declan is still in there…somewhere behind the flashy clothes and Rolex watch. “We nearly lost another patient. And guess what she was taking?”
A sigh and then he answers, “Duselizab. I get it. But why do you think this is the cause? There are so many other factors behind a person’s death. Weight, diet, activity, genetics, other medications, co-morbidities.”
“Obviously I know that. But these patients, including my last patient who nearly died and is currently in the ICU, took Duselizab and started experiencing neurological symptoms. Tremors, dizziness, eyesight wobbles, things like that. Then they all end up with internal hemorrhage and bleed out inside of themselves. My recent patient is lucky she didn’t die. Well…she did briefly, but we were able to bring her back.”
A pause as Declan takes in what I’m saying.
“All of them show internal bleeding?”
“Yes, twenty-three patients this year.”
“Okay. Like I said. They’re looking into it.”
“So, they’ll pull it off the market until more testing has been done?”
Silence.
“Dee?”
“I didn’t say that. I don’t have control over medications being pulled.”
“Jesus Christ,” I grumble. “This is urgent, Declan. I’m truly worried I’m going to lose more of my patients.”
“I hear you, Tace. I’ve done my part. It’s out of my hands now,” he says. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something. Okay?”
I set my keys on the counter and take a deep breath. “Okay. Thank you. Really.”
We hang up, and I know exactly how I’ll use my vacation time this week. Investigating.