5. CHAPTER 5
I lean heavily on a single crutch, trying to squat and see into the bottom back of the fridge. I know it’s empty. I’ve spent the past day, or days—I’m not even sure how long it’s been—shifting between eating and unconsciousness. But my healing is stagnating and I’m starving. I’ll have to go to the store and lab to restock. I can’t put it off any longer and for sure can’t afford delivery.
My phone chimes, and I painfully push myself out of my crouch, one hand bracing my ribs. I shuffle to the couch to retrieve my cell. It’s a text from Elena. Oh geez. I probably should have messaged her sooner. This trust and friendship thing is still new to me.
Elena: Hey T. You know I wouldn’t pry unless it was important. But things are getting sketchy here. Was your move—or the people involved, anyhow—related to missing Vanamisch? There’s a growing number of our kind going missing in Phoenix, and I wasn’t sure if it could be related.
I have been out of it for days. But I can’t worry her with my condition right now.
Teagan: Hey. No, that isn’t related at all. Is everything ok? Are you ok?
Elena: Yeah, I’m fine. It’s starting to draw the attention of the local media and the humans are freaking out a bit. But I’m sure the Ambassadors are handling it. I’m fine. I just wasn’t sure if it was related or how worried I should be.
Teagan: It sounds serious, but it’s not related to anything I’m aware of. I’m a little busy, but I’ll call you in a bit for more details. Stay safe though!
Elena: Sounds good. And will do. Talk to you soon.
The lab isn’t too far away and there’s a butcher’s store around the corner from it. I normally take the bus, but after the accident, I’m just not ready yet. I tap the Uber app to order a ride. Grabbing a duffle bag off the floor by the door, I head out, locking up behind me. I turn, sighing deeply, staring at the stairs. The flights down are going to fucking suck.
My fingers flip through the files in the last drawer of the cabinet. Still nothing.
“Ugh!” I grunt, slamming the drawer shut hard enough that the whole cabinet shakes.
Taking my glasses off, I massage my temples and drop into a nearby chair, rolling back to the computer. I know I won’t find anything, but I keep looking, again and again. I’ve only found a record of tests done on a Jane Doe, but of course I can’t find the results anywhere. And still, this compulsion pulls me to keep looking for any clue I might’ve missed.
I’m obsessing, turning into some kind of stalker. And not even a good stalker, considering I can’t figure out her name or what happened to her. The day shift’s scribbled reply to my inquiry was a dead end; no one matching her description.
Rubbing the tension from the back of my neck, I click through all the digital records of discharges and triaged patients over the past two shifts. I’m hoping I overlooked something, and a hint will magically appear. But my shoulders sag more with each passing moment. I know she was in the accident. I remember her injuries. Her eyes looking up at me. But who treated her, what happened to her, and where the hell did she go?
Why am I so fixated on this? On her? She’s literally on my mind every second I’m here, and even when I drift off to sleep she haunts my dreams every night. Why? Did I miss something?
I chuck my glasses onto the desk with a huff of breath, dropping my head into my hands. Only a few hours into my shift and I’m giving myself a migraine.
Faint footsteps approach. I glance up. Mateo’s leaning against the counter and nods from me to the front door. “Time for a break?”
“Gods, yes.” Putting my glasses back on, I follow him through the sliding emergency doors to the bay out front. He walks to the bench in a grassy area about twenty-five feet from the entrance and pulls out a pack of smokes.
“Looks like you’re having a rough day.” He offers the pack to me.
Shaking my head to decline, I drop to the bench next to him. “Yeah, I’m stressing myself out.”
“What about?” He lights one and takes a deep drag, the smoke curling up in the air around us.
I stare off into the sunset, watching the twilight set in. “That girl from the bus a couple of nights ago.”
“Yeah, what about her?”
So, it wasn’t just me. Nate and Mateo remember her, too.
“I remember pulling her from the bus and taking her to the hospital, but that’s it. I don’t recall treating her, her being triaged, discharged, or anything else.”
“Well, you were busy, and a lot of patients were brought in that night. Maybe she just got lost it the mix and someone else took care of her?”
“That’s what I thought at first, but I can’t find any charts on her. Not in the system or in the cabinets, and our dayshift wasn’t aware of her either. It’s like she just vanished.”
He grimaces while letting the smoke ease from his slightly parted lips. “Maybe she left without being treated?”
“Do you remember how bad her injuries were? There’s no way she walked out of here on her own. I don’t know. I just have this weird feeling that something isn’t right.”
“I hate to say this, but have you considered visiting the morgue?” He bites the inside of his cheek and side-eyes me.
My head drops back, and I look up into the expansive sky with a sigh. I have considered it. Multiple times, to be honest, but I don’t want it to be true. I’ve been searching for another explanation, any other, to avoid checking there and that confirmation. Knowing I failed her. It won’t sit right with me. I shouldn’t care this much. Patients die all the time, and if I wasn’t even working on her when she went, it should be easier to let go and move on. Yet, it’s not. And I can’t.
I keep getting images of her. Not to mention the inappropriate dreams.
No, something more is going on here. Or something is wrong. This insistent nagging won’t let me drop it until I know for certain.
“Yeah, I know. I was considering it. Guess it’s the next logical step.”
He pats me on the shoulder. “It’ll be alright. Just man up and go check. You’ll feel better to at least know one way or another.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” My stomach churns uneasily. What if I find her in the morgue? I can’t do anything about that. It will be too late. So then why the dreams and urgency? I bite back nausea and try to change the subject. “Did Lana say how Courtney did?”
“Yeah, she raved about her. Said she was timid and quiet at first, but she jumped into the action. She did better stabilizing than tagging, but they found a system between the two of them.” He stubs out his cigarette and flicks the bud into the street.
Sirens blare, an ambulance screeching to a rough stop in the bay.
He stands, stretches, and pops his back. “Do you need to get back?”
“Not yet. They’ll call me if I’m needed.” We both stop and watch the commotion. The back doors fly open, and an EMT unloads a gurney, rushing it through the front doors.
He turns back to me and his eyes go wide, his eyebrows raising higher and higher. “Um.” He rubs his jaw and nods behind me. “Isn’t that the girl you were looking for?”
I whip around so fast I feel dizzy, my gaze latching onto a girl hobbling with one crutch toward the back entrance of the hospital. Her dark red hair swings from side to side with her labored movements.
I shake my head in disbelief, a sudden lightness to my body. “Yeah, that’s her.” I stand and step in her direction with a soft smile forming.
“How… How…” He stutters with uncertainty. “How the hell is she walking?”
“I have no idea…but I’ll ask.” I’m already backing away from Mateo toward her. “I’ll talk to you later.” I don’t even wait for his reply, just turn and jog toward my mystery woman.
The Uber pulls to a stop outside the ER entrance. My stomach tightens. I so don’t have the money for this.
It’s fine. It’s fine. I’ll work doubles for the next six months if I must. One day at a time. I slam the car door shut, leaning torturously on one crutch. The car pulls away from the curb as I slowly shuffle forward, each step sending shooting pain all the way down my side and through my ankle. The duffle bag, half-filled from the butcher’s shop, slides off my shoulder and snags at my elbow. I pause, taking a moment to move it back up my shoulder and catch my breath while I eye the door. Only fifteen feet in front of me, such a short distance and yet every inch has a painful price.
Just get it over with. Then I can call Elena back and take enough pain pills to drown out all of this.
I take a deep breath, jaw clenching, and hobble towards the door again.
“Hey.” My focus is so locked on the entrance and breathing through my agonizing pain, I don’t even look in the voice’s direction.
“Hey! Hold up.” Not hearing any other responses, I glance over my shoulder. An ER doc’s jogging my way.
The doctor from the other night…and from my dreams. Shit!
I try to pick up my pace, but my broken body refuses to be pushed any faster. I longingly look at the door, now only five feet away. I was so fucking close.
I pause, waiting for him and easing the fire consuming my body. I wipe the sweat from my brow as he jogs around to face me. “Hey there. How are you up and walking around already?”
I mutely stare at him, brows furrowing and mouth pinched into a tight line. I need to say as little as possible. How does he remember me? Bridget fucked something up. I shrug a shoulder in reply. The bag drops to my elbow, and I bite back a groan.
“Uh, sorry. I work in the ER. Dr. Keane,” he stammers and does the cutest little head shake. “Or Wyatt.” He extends out a hand and stuns me with the most dazzling smile I’ve ever seen. His square jawline and the finger-sized cleft just begging to be touched. My dreams didn’t do it justice. He awkwardly lifts his extended hand, gesturing for a shake, and unfreezing my mind.
I lean more heavily on the crutch, shoving the duffle bag back up over my shoulder. The urge to offer my real name hits me, hard and unexpected. My gut clenches. I already broke my rules with Elena. What am I doing? Moving around so much has made it easy to lie to people, but…I don’t want to lie to him. All because of some stupid dreams? Blah. I can’t make this a habit.
Stop being pathetic.
I take a trembling breath and reach for his hand. “Isabella.” The name tastes bitter.
We shake hands, and he sucks in a quick breath, his green eyes lighting up as a jolt races through me. Not like a static electricity—something softer but deeper. Warm tingles fill my body, and I shiver from the peaceful distraction from the pain. He releases my hand sooner than I’d like and the pleasant warmness fades from my body as the harsh discomfort returns.
“Nice to officially meet you. So, you’re feeling better then? I thought your ankle was broken?” His face scrunches up, and I can feel his eyes, like a physical caress, scanning me from head to toe.
Shit, this isn’t good. He shouldn’t remember my injuries, or me, at all. I’d better get a discount if Bridget’s glamour wasn’t sufficient.
“No, just a bad sprain. Sorry, I have to go.” I wobble around him and move toward the door again. Only four more feet.
“Wait, I have more questions—”
An ambulance pulling in with sirens blaring pulls his attention away from me. Taking advantage of his distraction, I clench my teeth against the burning pain and shuffle forward faster.
Two more feet. I’ll have to call Bridget and tell her the doctor needs another memory wipe once I’m back home.
One more foot. I’m pulling the door open with my free hand when I glance over my shoulder. He looks back at me and takes a hesitant step but then glances back at the ambulance in the bay.
I duck into the interior of the building before he can do anything else. Holding my breath while I wait to see if he’ll follow me. Hidden behind the shadowed glass panes, I tighten my grip on the crutch when he takes two steps closer. My blood boils at Bridget’s neglect. How the fuck did her glamour not work? She’s an Ambassador, for fuck’s sake.
He shakes his head, glancing between the ambulance and the doors I escaped through. His head droops, and he runs his fingers through his dark, ruffled hair. He reluctantly turns away and sprints back to help the patient being unloaded.
I slump into the tinted glass with a relieved sigh. Allowing myself a second to break after the painful walk in. I force myself onward through my growing weakness—down the hallway, past a custodian sweeping from side to side, and into the elevator. After pressing the button for the third floor, I lean against the back wall, watching the numbers increase. The bag slides from shoulder down my arm and I hold the straps in a firm grip. Is the duffle bag getting heavier by the minute? Or am I getting weaker by the second? The doors chime and open slowly, and it takes all my energy to shove off the wall and totter forward.
“Damnnn, you look like hell!” Tina exclaims, dropping her Converse-d feet off the desk and leaning forward to take in more of my bruised and battered body.
“Thanks. Nice to see you too.” Sarcasm drips from my tone.
“It’s not your normal pickup day, though from the looks of you, you might need extra this month.” She bites the cap off a ballpoint pen and pulls a notepad out. “What’ll it be?”
The phone rings, and Tina rolls her chair across the linoleum floor. Flipping her hot pink hair out of her eyes, she answers. “Hey! Oh, yeah, it’s her. Yup, one sec.” She presses some buttons, and with a sharp beep, it switches over to the speakerphone. “It’s Jeremy.” She points up at the security camera facing the front counter and doorway behind me.
Jeremy is the hospital’s security officer and monitors the systems to filter out any Vanamisch activity before humans are alerted. He also has an enormous crush on me. I’ve clearly put him in the friend zone and checked his advances more than once, but he keeps trying. He’s a big teddy bear kind of guy, and I don’t have a ton of acquaintances here, so I do my best to be nice.
“Hi, Isabella. I saw you were brought in the other night. Were you a part of the big accident on the highway?”
I look up into the camera while I speak to him.
“Yeah, it was brutal.”
“It sure looked awful. When I got notified of the abnormal blood sample, I checked and you were unconscious, so I called for an Ambassador.”
“Yeah, they sent Bridget.”
“Ohh, ouch. Sorry. I was just trying to help.”
“You did great. I needed the help. And I appreciate you looking out for me.”
“Anytime. I’m just glad you’re okay. When you get to feeling better, stop by sometime.”
“I’ll bring you a drink from my shop once I’m back at work. Mocha latte, right?”
“Yup, sounds great. Talk to you later. Bye, Tina.”
“Bye.” She clicks the end button and turns back to me. “I can’t believe you were in that accident. No wonder you need to restock sooner than expected.” She rolls her chair back to the counter. “So, what can I get you?”
“What’s the cheapest option you have?”
“Well, there’s a $50 fee for picking up out of your scheduled time. But you’re in luck. I have two pints of A+ that are about to expire and could go for $80 a pint.”
“Yeah, I know about the fee. And great. I’ll take them both. Any others?”
“O+ for $105 a pint. The rest get pricier from there.”
I huff out a frustrated breath. “I don’t want to pay the fee again this month, so I might as well take two of those as well. You guys don’t have payment plans by chance, do you?”
“You can pay half now and the rest before your next scheduled pickup date.”
“That’ll work. Those four then.”
“You got it. Hand over the bag, and I’ll get them packaged up for you.”
I awkwardly lean onto the crutch to lift the bag to the counter, grimacing as my ribs burn from the movement.
She slides a half-filled blood bag toward me. “If you don’t mind partially used, you can finish this one off. Just go around the corner so you aren’t in view of the doorway.”
My hand goes to my heart, and I blink back tears. I’m about to lose it over some kindness and a charity handout. I’m so messed up right now. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” My hand drops to the bag, and I pull it toward me.
“Don’t mention it. Like, seriously, it never happened.” She winks at me and turns to wrap and package the pints.
I shuffle around the corner out of sight of the doorway and sip from the bag’s valve, downing the contents within seconds. It’s not nearly enough. Hell, I doubt if the pints and meat I got will be enough. But the burning pain dulls some. I move a bit more smoothly back to the counter, tossing the used bag into the bin.
“Do you know Ben? The young boy who works at the butcher shop,” she asks while returning to the counter with the filled duffle bag.
“No, I’ve probably seen him, but I’m still fairly new here.”
“Oh, no problem. I’m just asking around. He’s been missing for a few days. Probably just took off with some friends.” She places the bag on the counter then slides the bill in front of me. “How are you paying for this?”
“Cash. Half now and the rest before my next order.” I put some bills on the counter.
“Perfect. I’ll mark it down on your file. You’re all set.”
“Thanks, Tina.” I wave at the camera in the corner for Jeremy’s sake then head back toward the hallway.
When the elevator arrives, I press the button for the first floor. A custodian woman rolls a cart in after me and presses the button for the second floor. She’s texting and not paying me a lick of attention, which is great because I’m in no mood for small talk. The blood is already making me feel more energized, but I’m still not in a cheery mood. When she exits on the next floor, I slump more into the corner, resting my head against the paneling.
I’m counting down the minutes until I can be back home and slipping into a drug-induced sleep. Now should I waste more money on an Uber or use my bus pass? The thought of a bus still makes me queasy, and an Uber would be faster. I’m almost out of cash, though, my bank account is more of a joke than anything at this point. I push through the doors, heading back outside.
Making my way down the sidewalk, I’m so lost in my thoughts, it takes a moment to register the voice calling after me, “Hey, wait up.” When I look around for the source, the doctor is beelining straight to me.
Fucking hell! I thought I’d lost him.
Huffing, I slow but don’t fully stop. I should try to correct his memory myself, but I’m not strong enough to do that kind of glamour on my best day. And this is far from my best day. I have no chance of it sticking right now.
I glance over my shoulder at him and blindly step forward. There’s a slight tug against my good ankle and a string snaps. Pausing, I look down at a broken thread. There’s a faint clicking to my right, coming from an old beat-up car. Doesn’t look out of the ordinary or—
BOOM.
The air punches from my lungs and my entire body is burning as the force sends me flying through the air…