Chapter 26
Tacy
I’m in the hospital. Again. I should just rent a room here. I’m laid up with broken ribs and a fractured cheekbone. My lip has three stitches, as does my forehead. Declan really did a number on me this time. I’m just glad Aris was there. I’m going to need some serious training after all of this. I’m also thankful my children haven’t been involved in the fucking mess that is my life.
I don’t know when we’re going to bring their father back around…and he claims this depends on when The Org is taken down. To me, it sounds like an impossible feat. Who knows how many people in power are part of The Org? How many minions they have in various industries and businesses throughout the city? The state? The country? What is Aris and The Rebellis going to do, blow up the capital? How far and wide is The Org’s reach?
I sigh, moan at the searing pain in my side, and adjust my position in bed. I hate hospital beds. Whenever I have patients who complain about the discomfort, I never disagree with them or chastise them. Because they’re right. Hospital beds fucking suck. You’d be more comfortable sleeping on a bed of rocks.
There’s a knock on the door and my nurse strolls in, sanitizing her hands and smiling at the wall.
“So, what happened to you, Tacy?” Kayden asks as she checks the IV pump settings. She’s purposely avoiding eye contact with me. We’ve never gotten along. Went through the same training class, graduated from the same nursing school, but could never hold a conversation without wanting to throw fists.
I sit up in bed, propping the flat pillow behind my lower back where there seems to be no cushion in the mattress whatsoever. “Fell down the steps.”
She logs onto the computer at the corner of the room and turns to look at me. Finally making eye contact. “Right. The old fallen down the stairs story.”
“What does that mean?”
“You and I both take the domestic violence class every year for our education credits, Tacy. We both know your injuries aren’t congruent to a staircase fall. Oh, pretty flowers. Who are they from?” She points to the tiger lilies on my bedside table. A bouquet sent by Aris with a note that says, wish I could be there by your side. I don’t know how much of this absent vigilante husband gig I can take.
I groan. I don’t know if it’s Kayden’s chipper demeanor or her punchable face that makes me hate her. Or the fact that she’s calling me out on my bullshit. “They’re from some guy I met on Tinder. Have you ever fallen down the steps?”
“No, I haven’t. My balance and coordination are impeccable,” she answers as her fingers click clack on the computer keys at an alarming speed. “Ten hours of yoga a week ensures I don’t have stupid accidents. But you didn’t fall, Tacy. And if it was the stairs, they must’ve grown a fist and punched you in the face multiple times. From different angles.”
I exhale sharply and reach for the remote. Kayden checks the catheter bag hanging from the bed, double-checks the IV pump, and listens to my heart and lung sounds before waltzing out the door. Just before she leaves, she turns and says, “an older woman called earlier for you. You were asleep. I told her to call back this afternoon. She seemed very concerned.”
I force a smile. “Thanks. It’s my mother.”
She closes the door behind her, and the phone on the wall rings. Fuck. I have to get out of bed and shuffle to the wall, pressing the heel of my hand to my ribcage. I barely make it to the phone when my catheter reminds me, I can only go so far. A sudden pinching in my bladder makes me squeal. The phone keeps ringing, and I stretch out enough to finally grab it.
I hit the green button and answer, “What?”
“Tacy? Oh, I’m so glad you’re up,” mom says. Her voice is shaky and strained. Blanketed in bad news.
“Yeah, I’m up. How’s Cammy and Ben? Are they freaking out? I’m sure they’re so frightened.”
“No,” she clears her throat. “They’re fine. They’ll be just fine.”
“Okay, that’s good. What did you tell them?”
“I told them what happened, Tacy. That they’re mother had a little fall and she’s in the hospital but she’s going to be okay.”
Silence. Then a man’s voice in the background. But it doesn’t sound like my mother’s boyfriend. It’s a younger man’s voice. Maybe middle-aged.
“Who’s there? That doesn’t sound like your boyfriend, Mom. Are you at home?”
There’s a shuffling sound and a clacking on the floor, like mom dropped the phone. She lifts it and says, “I’m sorry, what Honey?”
“I asked who’s there with you and the kids.”
“Oh, just the pool guy,” she says and laughs nervously.
“Okay…well, can I talk to Cammy?”
Another drop of the phone, the man’s voice thunders, and mom returns to the phone. “I need you to do something for me, Tace.”
“What’s going on, Mom? Is everything okay? Who’s there?”
“I need you to stop all of this nonsense with the…. research you’re doing.”
“What? What are you talking about, Mom? Who’s with you?”
“Give me the phone, Judith,” the man says. “Mrs. Rountree?”
“Who the fuck is this?” I’m seething. But I must control my breath, because every time I breathe too heavily pain shoots through my chest like a lightning bolt. “Leave my mother alone.”
“I represent Mr. Harvey. I am a friend of his. And I’m also a friend of your mother’s. A close, intimate friend. So close, in fact, that I have access to her house. And… to your children.”
“You leave my family alone you mother fucker. I will kill you,” I growl. “I will fucking…”
“You aren’t in control here, Mrs. Rountree. I am. So, you will listen to what I have to say. Or I’ll pay your family another visit. But it won’t be a quiet one.”
“Fine…what do you want?”
“I want to know where you’re keeping Declan Harvey. And…he better be alive.”
I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth. “He’s alive as far as I know.”
A nurse rushes by the door, and I freeze. I hope she’s not coming in. She doesn’t. I return to my phone conversation with the anonymous psycho. “But I have no problem giving the order to off the corrupt asshole.”
There’s a clicking on the phone and the man answers, “no, you won’t. You’ll return him to us. Tonight. At dock five-A, midnight.”
“Obviously I can’t return him to you. I’m in the god damn hospital…because of him.”
He chuckles. “I know that you’re a part of the rebellion. And I know that you know the men who are holding Declan hostage. So, make your fucking calls and set up the rendezvous. In addition, my people require that you end your research, and you reveal the identity of the masked man to us.”
I ball my fists and seriously consider punching the side rails on the bed. “I’ll set it up. But I can’t give you the masked man’s identity. I don’t know who he is.”
“No weapons. No cameras. Send two men only. Mr. Harvey must be unharmed.”
I laugh boisterously. My hands are shaking, and my palms are sweaty. “You think he’ll be returned completely unharmed? That’s a fucking joke. The mother fucker broke into my house and beat the shit out of a woman. The men who are holding him don’t take kindly to women beaters. He’s alive. And he’ll be returned tonight. But the slimeball will have injuries, Sir. That’s not my fucking problem.”
A certified nurse assistant walks in dragging a vital sign machine behind him, catches my conversation, and immediately turns back around and out the door.
“Midnight. Dock five-A. You know my stipulations.”
I hang up on him. And the room starts spinning. I have to close my eyes to stop myself from vomiting. There’s a man in my mother’s house…between the same walls as my children. A man who could hurt them. Take them away for good. I pick the phone back up and go to dial a number. But realize…I don’t know Aris’s number. And I don’t have my fucking cell phone.
“Arghhh!” I scream and throw the white plastic phone across the room. It hits the corner of the sink and breaks into a hundred pieces. “Fuck!” I have to get out of here. I have to talk to Aris. Our kids’ lives are in danger. My mother’s life is in danger.
Lucky for me, my boss walks in at this exact moment. Clicking her white pumps against the hard floor. Her crisp white jacket flails backwards as she rushes to me.
“Sit down, Tacy! What in god’s name are you thinking?”
“I need to be discharged. Today,” I say as I rip the IV out of my arm and haphazardly slap a piece of gauze over the gushing vein.
“You have two broken ribs and a zygoma fracture. You need to rest. We don’t even know if you need surgery yet, Tacy. Please sit down.”
“Can you get me the syringe for the catheter, please? I’ll take it out myself,” I say, pointing to the bag of yellow fluid. “And when I come back to work, I’ll chart all of this in my own notes. No need to bother Kayden.”
“Tacy, that’s why I’m visiting today,” she sits at the end of the bed. There’s a clipboard in one of her hands that she holds tight to her chest. “I’m concerned…for your wellbeing.”
I look her in the eye. My brow furrows. “What do you mean, you’re concerned? I’m fine.”
“No…clearly, you’re not. This is the third or fourth time you’ve been hospitalized in the past three months. Twice you passed out. A few weeks ago, you were involved in some sort of violent crime, and now this?”
I clip the IV line and let it fall to the floor. “Violent crime? No, Clara. That’s incorrect.”
“How so? You came in for an evaluation, with photos and a whole report that went to the police. Word has it that you…” she leans in and whispers, “…killed a man.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” I say and rip the heart monitor sticky pads off my chest and stomach. “I never killed the guy. And if you investigated further, you’d see that I was abducted by the fucking creep. I had to fight my way out before he killed me. I never asked to be kidnapped.”
“Regardless, we don’t feel you’re fit to be a nurse in this hospital any longer. Your recent behavior has been…well…erratic.”
“I can see how you’d be concerned for my physical wellbeing. But my erratic behavior? I’m one of the top nurses in the building, all of my patients request me as their nurse, and I won the nurse of the year award the last three years in a row. Explain to me how my behavior is concerning.”
Exhaling loudly, she smooths out her skirt and stands up. Checks her watch and says, “I don’t have time for this.”
“Well, you had enough time to walk in here and criticize me…amid a crisis. So, you should have plenty of time to explain to me why you’re firing me.” There it is. Angry Tacy’s out now and there’s no reining her back in.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Tacy. You know what I’m referring to. Your paranoia about the medication. It’s all in your head. I honestly think you could benefit from a psychological evaluation.”
I click my tongue when I realize what’s really going on. She’s been paid off. She knows about Duselizab. I flash her a sideways smile.
“Really? I’m paranoid. Got it. You know what I really think, Clara? I think you know exactly what that medicine does to people. You know how dangerous it is, but for some god damn reason you won’t do anything to stop it from being administered on your floor. Why is that? Hmm?” I stand and point to the catheter again.
“Sit down, Tacy. Last warning.”
“Give me the catheter kit, Clara. This is your last warning. I could give a fuck less what you think about me. Or what you think I need. Syringe, STAT.”
She spins on her heels and heads for the door. “Call your fucking nurse, Tacy. I never want to see your face in this building again. Next time someone abducts you or beats you up, go somewhere else. Just stop bringing your drama and bullshit to my front doorstep.”
She slams the door behind her, and I hear her heels clicking down the hallway. I scan the room and notice a blue bin beside the computer. BINGO. They were going to take out the catheter today anyway. I unlock the wheels on the bed and slowly make my way to the kit. Then I open the kit and remove my own catheter.
I discover my blood-stained clothing in a plastic bag in the closet along with my purse. I rip off the hospital gown and slowly climb back into my damp, dirty clothing. I slip on my white canvas shoes that have taken on a burgundy shade and shuffle to the bathroom to check the mirror. My eye is swollen shut and half of my face looks like an indigo punching bag. My hair, while in a high ponytail, is caked in brown, flaky blood. I touch my cheekbone and moan in pain. Fuck. I do need surgery. But I don’t give a shit about that right now. I need to find Aris and we need to get our kids away from The Org.
I shoulder my purse and shuffle out the door, down the hallway, and almost make it to the elevator door when my supervisor stops me.
“Tacy, please. You’re in no shape to leave the hospital,” Clara says and gently grabs my wrist. “Come on back. We can get you some pain medication and you can just rest.”
I rip my wrist free from her grasp. And stare her in the eyes. “What’s the medication…Duselizab? No fucking thank you, Clara.”
She pulls a yellow slip of paper from her jacket pocket and clicks a pen. “At least sign this AMA order.”
“You can take your death drug and the AMA and shove them up your greedy ass. If there’s any room left up there next to all the hush money you’ve accepted.”
Her eyes widen, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“Yes, you do. Just know, the reckoning is coming,” I say as I waddle into the elevator. Clara stands there staring at me as the doors close. Fucking sell-out.