Chapter 39
Who the hell did he think he was showing up at her front door, acting all concerned and conflicted? He almost kissed her before pulling back. Then he called her stupid. He was the stupid one with the stupid handsome face.
“We have a CTAS-1 coming in, an unresponsive female.” Debbie, the ward clerk, clutched the red dispatch phone in her right hand.
Jayna pushed back her chair and stood. “Debbie, can you call RT and alert X-ray to be on standby.”
There had been two CTAS-1s so far. Trouble always came in threes—or traumas in the case of the ER. It never failed. The emergency department buzzed with activity as staff hurriedly prepared the trauma room. The harsh light cast eerie shadows, and a shiver raced up Jayna’s spine. She glanced at the double doors as Lance and Sonny pushed the gurney through, her heart sinking at the sight of Talia.
“What happened?” Jayna blinked back threatening tears and yanked open the trauma room curtain. She helped lift Talia onto the exam bed.
“The patient was found unresponsive in the coffee shop parking lot by a co-worker. Suspected fentanyl overdose,” Sonny explained. “We injected Naloxone—no effect. On the way here, I gave a second dose.”
Jayna’s hands shook as she cut away Talia’s shirt. “Oh, Talia. Why?”
“Her boss said Talia got a text yesterday. Talia’s mother changed her mind about letting her see her son. Apparently, Talia took the news badly,” Lance offered .
Jayna’s stomach churned. She should have checked in with Talia. Why hadn’t she? Talia’s entire focus had been on regaining access to her son. Her mother rescinding that agreement would have devastated her.
A wave of anxiety threatened to crash over her, but Jayna pushed it aside. Years of training kicked in, and she worked on autopilot. She swiftly attached electrodes to Talia’s chest, glancing at the monitor. There was heart activity, albeit low and irregular. Grabbing the oxygen mask, she placed it over Talia’s face.
“Get the crash cart, now!” Jayna yelled as the heart monitor began to beep. Talia had stopped breathing.
Dr. Malik rushed in with two nurses. His grim face said it all. “Start compressions.”
No. No. Not Talia. Jayna’s face remained impassive while inside she fell apart.
She jumped on Talia’s chest, positioning her hands correctly and counting each compression aloud. Her arms burned, sweat pouring off her forehead. Lance took over, his hands steady over hers.
No, no, no. Talia had worked so hard to get clean. Jayna had worked so hard to help her stay clean. Everything was going so well. Talia had so many reasons to live, to stay clean. Jayna could have hired a lawyer to help navigate the custody rights with Talia’s mother.
Dr. Malik’s expression was somber as he stopped Lance. Jayna’s heart sank. The odds of surviving CPR were 17 percent. Those odds sucked. Those odds caused her to hate her job.
“Time of death, 7:15 p.m.” Dr. Malik glanced at his watch. “Debbie, call the coroner and get me a death certificate.”
Jayna’s shift ended in less than 15 minutes. If Talia had been found a half-hour later, Jayna would have already been on her way home. Tears blurred her vision as she stared down at Talia’s still form. Bowing her head, she whispered a silent prayer for the woman who had given up too soon.
“That’s one less addict to worry about,” Lance murmured to Sonny. Jayna stared at him, her eyes widening. Unbelievable! She brushed past him and stepped into the serenity garden that bordered the ER.
The garden was beautiful, offering a peaceful escape from a place that was anything but. Jayna sank onto a wooden bench, letting the tears flow freely. Why had Talia relapsed? Why had she bought fentanyl? Why had she used again after staying clean for so long?
But Jayna knew the answers to all her questions. Talia’s sole focus had been on getting her son back. Her mother’s refusal had been too much. Why hadn’t she checked up on Talia yesterday? That was the true question.
A brown rabbit hopped out from under a shrub, staring up at her. For the past few months, she’d been bringing it carrots, but had forgotten all about the poor defenseless creature. The rabbit sat very still, looking directly at her with accusatory eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Jayna choked out. “I’m sorry that I forgot to check on you.” She wasn’t capable of caring for another life.
“Jayna.”
She jumped and looked over her shoulder. “What, Lance?”
“That’s one less drug addict to deal with.” His voice had been so cold and dismissive.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said about her. It’s just my way of distancing myself. Keeps me sane.”
“I didn’t mean it either,” she said, blowing out an angry breath, “when I said I was ready for a serious relationship.”
His brow creased. “You’re breaking up with me?”
“Yep.”
“Over that drug addict?”
Her eyes squeezed shut as she sucked in a deep breath. “Talia. Her name is Talia, not ‘Drug Addict.’ And no, she’s not the reason I’m breaking up with you.”
His eyes widened. “Then it’s over Greta? You think I had something to do with her death?”
“No, I don’t think that.” She softened her tone. She didn’t believe he was capable of something so heinous .
The girls at ‘Bagpipe-Palooza’ were right. Lance wasn’t the man for her. This realization had nothing to do with Derek showing up the other evening, all protective and sexy and stupid and annoying and smelling so damn good. He was wrong in so many ways. He’d been wrong about Lance. And wrong for her.
She’d been wrong to think she could save Talia. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
This was the wrong time to start a relationship. It was wrong for Lance with everything going on in his life. It was also wrong for her. She wasn’t ready. She thought she had been. But she’d been wrong.
It felt contrived to force this relationship because she wanted to settle down, and Lance seemed like the most suitable candidate. It reminded her of her parents’ marriage, and she had no intention of duplicating that. Would it be so terrible to remain single? Sure, she envied Nick and Piper’s marriage. She was in awe of Leighton and Tommy’s rekindled love. However, Talia’s death reminded her why she didn’t let people in.
She’d let her guard down, feeling a connection with Talia. They both had mothers who’d disappointed them—that was their common tie. And it tore her apart to realize that, like their mothers, Jayna had failed Talia too. She needed to remain alone. That was for the best.
On her way home, she found herself pulling into Patty’s Pub and sitting at the bar. The tequila burned all the way down, yet it did nothing to numb her pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks—so unfamiliar. She never cried.
The bar stool beside her scraped as it was pulled back.
“If it isn’t my ex-fake fiancé.”
“Shut up, Derek. I’m not in the mood.”
“You’re regretting fake breaking up with me?”
She sniffled and brushed away the tears that she never cried.
“Oh baby, please don’t cry over me.”
“Get over yourself, Brennan. These tears are not over you!”
“Don’t tell me Lance Romance dumped you.”
“No, I dumped him,” she sniffled loudly and called out to the bartender. “Can I have another tequila, please?”
“So, you’re crying over dumping the paramedic?”
“No! It’s Talia. The woman I’ve been helping. She overdosed. She’s gone.”
Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. Derek’s scent enveloped her, and she wanted to stay in that embrace forever.
Forever.
She didn’t believe in forever, or being rescued, or comforted. However, for just a moment, she’d allow it. She let herself depend on someone else. Just for a moment. Not forever.
He pulled her tighter, and she sank deeper. It felt so wonderful to be held.
“I’m so sorry, Jayna,” his voice was rough, the words of comfort as unfamiliar for him to speak as they were for her to receive.
They were two lone wolves. He didn’t look to others for comfort and neither did she. And yet he was giving it, and she was accepting it.
The last of her walls were crumbling. She needed Derek right now. That realization filled her with panic. She shoved backward, nearly toppling them both off the bar stools.
“Whoa.” Derek grabbed the edge of the bar with his left hand while his right arm tightened around her.
She blinked and roughly wiped away fresh tears.
“I have to go,” she said breathlessly, shrugging off his arm and standing. Grabbing her purse, she rushed out the door.