Chapter 27
Jordan
“Yo, roomie!” Quinn calls as she and Hailey come out from one of the emergency areas after handing off a patient they brought in.
I saw them come in with the guy, but I was already busy with a patient, so a coworker took the case. Somehow that turned into two of my coworkers working on it, though I’m not entirely sure what all the commotion was about.
“Hey,” I nod at them as they sidle up to the nurses station where I just finished entering information into a chart.
Even though Nate and I made up, I’ve still been staying at Quinn’s.
She offered, and I was happy to accept. As much as I love living with my brother and Savanna, there’s nothing I’d rather witness less than the newlyweds all over each other all the time.
It’s better if I’m not there. Will I go back?
Maybe. Maybe not. Quinn says I won’t, but I’m taking things day by day right now.
And the days seem longer and longer with each one that passes that I haven’t heard from Liam.
Nate said to give him a few days, and I have, but it’s killing me.
As upset as I was that Liam wouldn’t fight for me, the time removed from the situation has helped me understand it.
Nate did a number on him, and I didn’t help matters with my parting words.
That’s the part that’s really killing me.
The jab I took comparing him to Paul. I regret that.
It’s replayed in my head over and over, and every time I hear myself utter the words, my heart clenches and my stomach churns with the threat of vomit.
I hate that I haven’t apologized for saying it.
Even if nothing comes of Liam and me, even if he’s not willing to fight for me and what we had, and could have, I need to apologize for it.
I mean, the words weren’t exactly untrue, but they weren’t said out of the goodness of my heart, either. And I’ve come to realize that maybe Liam didn’t know how to fight for me. Was he being a coward by breaking things off? Yeah. But did he actually know any other way to handle it?
Liam is an amazing guy. He just lacks certain experiences.
Could I be making excuses for him? I suppose.
But he warned me from the get-go that he didn’t know what he was doing, and that I would have to have patience with him.
And in the two weeks we were officially together, he seemed eager to learn all the things that went into a relationship.
I can’t really blame him for running scared when his best friend, of all people, threw him into the dirt and ground him into it.
There’s a loud bang and a couple of swears that come from the direction Quinn and Hailey came from.
I glance over their shoulders to see a frail woman in her sixties wearing an oversized sweatshirt and stained, ripped jeans come from that direction, her arms wrapped around herself as she paces back and forth along the hallway.
Both Hailey and Quinn follow my gaze, and then Quinn turns back to me. “That’s the girlfriend of the guy we just brought in,” she whispers.
“The guy is on something,” Hailey follows in a hush. “We narcanned him twice, and when he came around, he flipped out. It was a good thing the guys were with us ‘cause the cops hadn’t shown up yet.”
My stomach twists at the thought. The number of drug overdoses we see on a daily basis is horrifying.
You never know what you’re going to get when you’re dealing with an addict.
Sometimes they’re zoned out, sometimes they’re overly friendly, and others, like this gentleman, are aggressive and hostile and it can get scary.
“Honestly,” Quinn says in an even lower tone, taking a step closer to me. “Couldn’t say it to the others but keep an eye on her. She didn’t present like she’d just taken anything at first, but she got really nervous and fidgety on scene.”
“You said she calmed down in the ambulance,” Hailey states, her eyes narrowing at Quinn.
Quinn’s head bobs up and down, her short ponytail flying around. “She did, but if she’s using, you never know. That’s why I didn’t tell her to go to the waiting room.”
“I’ll let the others know and keep an eye out,” I tell them, then wave a finger in the air. “Actually…”
Coming out from behind the nurses station, I head over to the woman with a friendly smile. “Hi ma’am, I’m Jordan. The paramedics tell me that your partner was brought in, and I wanted to see if maybe you’d like to sit down.”
I motion down the hall, to the right of the nurses station, where there are three chairs. The woman gives me a blank stare then follows the direction of my arm. She shakes her head.
“No,” she says, her voice thick and scratchy like she’s smoked one too many cigarettes in her lifetime. “No. Can’t sit. Hospitals… don’t like ‘em.”
Lots of people don’t like hospitals, but I think Quinn was right. Keeping an eye on this woman seems like a good idea.
“Bathroom?” the woman asks, her eyes darting back and forth, up and down the hallway.
A cold rush of energy surges through me. My instant thought is that she’s going to go and use in there, but I can’t tell her she isn’t allowed to go to the restroom.
“Just past the nurses station,” I tell her, pointing in the same direction as the chairs.
Watching as she walks down the hallway and disappears into the single stall bathroom, I chew on the inside of my lip for a moment.
Dave, our security guy, is down the hall where the woman’s partner is being looked after, and I’d guess he’s got another security guard coming to join him. It’s fine. Everything is fine.
Taking a deep breath, I turn back to Quinn and Hailey, but my eyes are drawn to the doors that lead to the ambulance bay as someone opens them and walks through, carrying a bouquet of red roses.
While my heart seems to know instantaneously who it is, and what’s about to happen, it takes my brain a triple take to catch up and figure out that the man clad in firefighter pants and boots is Liam.
Liam. My Liam. With roses.
The quickening of my pulse tells me I know what this is, but my mind refuses to believe what I’m seeing is reality.
His eyes scan the nurses station first, and I know he makes eye contact with the girls when a grin spreads across his face.
A second later his head is turning in my direction.
My guess is he’s following Quinn or Hailey’s nod.
I’m not sure though because the only thing I see right now is him.
There are bags under his eyes that aren’t usually there, and his hair isn’t pristine like it normally is.
He looks as bad as I’ve been feeling but seeing him like this is still like taking a huge breath of fresh air after drowning in a sea of negativity and sorrow for the last ten days.
God. He hasn’t even said a word—I have zero clue what he’s here for, even if I hope I know—and the relief I feel is immediate and overwhelming.
Our eyes meet and everything in my world rights itself. I want to run straight into his arms, flowers be damned, and kiss the hell out of him. It takes everything in me to stay rooted in place.
Liam smiles his signature smirky-smile at me, and I take a step towards him. He’s like a magnet, and I have zero say in his gravitational pull that hooks me in and pulls me closer.
“Hi,” he says, taking a few steps towards me.
His forward momentum draws me in again, and I meet him halfway, the distance between us closing until there’s only a foot of space between me and the flowers.
I give him a hesitant, hopeful smile. “Hi.”
“I know we’re both at work and there’s a lot to talk about, but I couldn’t wait another second before I saw you,” he confesses.
The confidence in his smile and the way he strode in here isn’t in his eyes now that we’re close.
They shift back and forth, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows nervously.
He’s so out of his element, but it’s endearing to see him try.
To put himself out there even though I know how hard this must be for him.
It makes me want to burst into tears because I know my intuition was correct the whole time. He does love me. I know he does.
Everything happens so quickly after that.
I’m in the middle of telling Liam I’m glad he didn’t wait when Hailey gasps loud enough to grab both our attention.
Quinn shouts “No!” at the top of her lungs.
Then pain explodes through half my head as my braid gets yanked with enough force I’m stumbling backwards, reaching out to try and catch my balance.
I feel the silkiness of the flowers for one whisper of a second before they’re out of my reach.
All I see is ceiling with my head wrenched so far back.
Then some of the tension releases only to be replaced by an arm wrapped around my neck.
The smell of smoke and drugs is putrid, making me want to gag, which says a lot considering what I see and smell on a daily basis in the emergency department.
At least I can level my head out, allowing me to see what’s in front of me, if not behind.
Only seconds have passed but everything before me has changed. The flowers are on the floor, and Liam is standing there with Quinn and Hailey behind him, his hands outstretched in front of him in a defenseless, calming position.
“Jordan, don’t move,” he instructs in a firm, chilling voice I’ve never heard him use before. He’s in firefighter mode, taking command of the scene, but it’s more than that. His eyes are locked on something, and the fact that he won’t look at me chills me to the bone.
“Who are you?” The person holding onto me screams the words in my ear.
It’s the woman I was just speaking with.
The raspy voice gives it away immediately.
But she isn’t talking to me. I know this for a fact when she stretches out the arm that isn’t locked around my neck, and points at Liam.
It’s then that I realize what Liam was tracking with his eyes, and why he told me not to move.
The woman’s fist is locked around a syringe, and there’s a thin glimmer of silver coming out of one end.
Quinn, behind Liam, is depressing her hands in the air as she looks at me.
Telling me to stay calm and not freak out.
Easy for her to say, especially as the woman brings the needle back towards me.
I can feel the heat of her hand as she rests it on my shoulder, and my stomach takes a nosedive straight to my feet, churning the entire way.
“Who are you?” she shouts again, and I swear her hand moves closer to my neck.
I know I’m not just imagining it when Liam takes half a step forward, holding his hands out in surrender. “We met at the scene with your boyfriend, remember? My name is Liam. I’m a firefighter.”
This does nothing to calm the woman down. If anything it makes her more irate as she screeches, “No! You aren’t! Tell me who you really are.”
“Ma’am, how about we put the needle down and let the nurse go, okay?” Liam tries to coax.
In my peripheral I can see Dave, the security guard, at the entrance of the hallway where he’d been standing outside the boyfriend’s room. He’s murmuring into his radio, but besides that, I’m not sure there’s anything he can do.
“Tell me who you are!” the woman seethes at Liam. “Tell me why you look like him or I’ll shove this needle right into her jugular.”
I watch Liam’s eyes narrow. He catches what she says just like I do, and he’s trying to process it. Trying to figure out if he can place the woman. “Why don’t you explain to me who I look like, and then maybe I can help you?”
“Him. You look like him,” she whispers in a tone that tells me she’s flying higher than a kite.
Liam remains patient with her. “Who is him?”
“My husband. You look like my husband.”
“Okay,” Liam nods tolerantly. “Who is your husband?”
Her entire body shakes against mine, like she’s shaking in refusal. Still, she answers the question. “Eddie. Eddie King.”