Chapter 19 #2
When we get our first call out for the night, I force myself to focus on the job so I don’t make any mistakes. The last thing I want is for something to happen to a patient because I’m not paying attention.
The fifty-two-year-old male we’re racing to is suffering severe chest pains and shortness of breath, according to dispatch.
“You lead the primary survey,” Jack says to me as we pull into the driveway of the impressive property. Whoever it is, they have some serious cash. “We’ll back you up.”
My stomach tightens as I nod. Adrenaline thrums through my blood, but I take a couple of deep breaths. This is what I’m training to do.
A young blonde woman, maybe a couple of years older than Juliet, waves to us from the front door in nothing but a black satin robe, still clutching her phone.
We grab the cardiac monitor and drug kit and follow her inside the house and up to the first floor.
When we enter the bedroom, I freeze.
The patient is sitting upright on the edge of the bed, one hand clutching his chest, the other braced on his bouncing knee.
Another scantily clad young woman is sitting next to him, this one a brunette, her hand rubbing his back in soothing circles.
There’s a sheet pooled around his waist, and I have a feeling he’s naked underneath.
His skin is pale and sweaty, and he’s breathing in shallow, rasping gasps.
Everett’s dad.
Jack shoots me a funny look, and I shake off my surprise.
I move over to the bed. “Hi, sir. My name’s Blake. I’m a paramedic student working with Jack and Melissa tonight. What’s your name?”
There’s no flicker of recognition from him as he wheezes out, “E-Edward. But th-this is ridic… ulous. I t-told them not to call.”
“You could be having a heart attack,” the woman near the door rushes to say.
He shoots her a venomous look before shaking the other woman off him. I wonder who they are. Something tells me they’re not here without a little incentive. I wonder if Juliet knows he’s paying for escorts.
My jaw clenches, and I take a deep breath. I need to remain professional. “Okay, Edward, can you tell me about your pain?”
“It’s… nothing,” he pants, grimacing. “J-just indigestion or something.”
“We’re here now,” I say, “so we’ll run some tests, just to be sure. Have you taken any medication tonight?”
I have a theory about what could be wrong, but to be on the safe side, I wait for Melissa to check his blood pressure.
“BP’s 168 over 98,” Melissa advises, removing the cuff.
I frown. That’s higher than I expected. If he’d taken Viagra like I suspected, his BP would be low. There has to be something else.
Edward still hasn’t answered my question, so I repeat, “Sir? Any medications or other substances we should be aware of?”
If we give him the wrong drugs, it could set off a whole world of other problems.
Edward averts his gaze.
“It’s important,” I advise him. “It will affect what we can give you.”
“We haven’t taken anything,” the woman by the door says, setting off alarm bells. She said we and not he. It makes me think they’re all on something. Most likely a stimulant.
“Shut up,” he hisses, and she flinches.
Clenching my jaw, I glance at Jack, who gives me a subtle shake of his head as he checks Edward’s heart rate.
“134,” he says. “Regular.”
Too high for someone sitting still.
“Any medical history or heart problems?” I ask, struggling to keep my composure.
“No.”
He’s taken something tonight, and the longer he holds out on us, the more dangerous it becomes. I don’t want to risk giving him something that will cause his BP to drop or cause an actual heart attack.
I study the man, noticing his dilated pupils and the way his jaw moves, as though he’s grinding his teeth. Fuck, that makes everything so much more complicated.
My gaze flicks to the bedside table. There are no medication boxes, but there is a faint dusting of a substance along the edge of his dark phone screen.
“Let’s start with some oxygen,” I say, taking the mask from Melissa and securing it over his face with a steady hand.
I nod towards the women by the door, and Melissa takes the hint and says, “Let’s give Blake and Jack some space to run some more tests. Can you both step out of the room for a moment?”
Their eyes flit to Edward and back to Melissa before they leave with my adviser in tow.
I turn my focus back to Edward.
“Sir, I need you to be completely honest with me. What have you taken tonight?”
With a grimace, he points to the bedside drawer.
Jack opens it and pulls out a box of Viagra, confirming my suspicions.
“Anything else?” I prod. “Anything… recreational?”
“It’s confidential,” Jack says, stepping in. “We just need to treat you safely. If it’s not a heart attack, we don’t want to risk inadvertently giving you one.”
Fear flashes in his eyes, and he points to a little black purse lying next to the phone.
“Do you give us permission to look inside?” Jack asks.
Edward gives a brusque nod.
My supervisor opens the purse and pulls out a small baggie filled with white powder. I’d bet my inheritance it’s cocaine.
Stimulant and Viagra? Great.
The cocaine cranks everything up—his heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen demand—pushing the heart into overdrive.
It has the potential to trigger arrhythmias or coronary artery spasms. Mix in the Viagra, which causes the blood vessels to widen and increase blood flow to the penis; now the heart’s working harder while its own blood supply can dip.
Fuck me.
This makes everything unpredictable. We need to get him to the hospital as soon as possible.
Once Edward’s on the stretcher, we push him out of the room and down the hallway. The two women are huddled beside Melissa, fear etched on their faces.
“Edward!” The blonde panics and rushes to his side, but he turns his head in disgust.
“Make sure they get their things and leave,” he snaps at us before wheezing into the oxygen mask. He glares at them. “You won’t be getting a cent from me.”
The blonde flinches, tears pooling in her eyes, but her friend scowls and pulls her away.
I bite the inside of my cheek, holding back the mouthful I want to spray at him.
The dirty perve has obviously picked up these much younger women for a good time.
After partying a little too hard on the powder, he took a Viagra to help him keep it up.
The exertion was too much for him, and once the shortness of breath kicked in, panic would’ve overtaken him, causing the crushing chest pain.
We’ll still take him in to be monitored and thoroughly checked out, but I’m confident the bastard isn’t having a heart attack.
While objectively good-looking, I can’t figure out what Juliet saw in the arsehole, or why she married him.
But after what I’ve seen tonight, I understand why Everett wants nothing to do with him, and I have a fair idea why Juliet doesn’t want him near her daughter.
Tinsley doesn’t need to be exposed to any of this rubbish. She’s too pure and too good.
Jack monitors Edward’s vitals on the drive to Beckford Hospital—he’s already improving by the time we arrive.
It kills me that confidentiality laws prevent me from telling Juliet or Everett what happened tonight. Edward will still get his fortnightly visits with Tinsley, and I can’t do a thing to stop it. The system is fucked.