More carefully, he approached her and focused on keeping everything slow, his voice soft. She’d obviously been conditioned to watch out for any sudden movements her husband made.
“Go ahead.” She closed her eyes, as if trying to shut out the world. “I don’t care.”
“Are you in pain?”
She nodded and tears began to overflow. “Don’t be nice to me, Doc. I can’t take it.” She sniffed. “I don’t know what it’s like.”
“Then I’ll try harder to be mean,” he said, and received a crooked smile.
“Thanks.”
He looked at Emily, who looked pale and a little wide-eyed. “I’ll get right on those orders, Doctor.” Then she turned back to the patient and the moment was gone, if it had been there at all. Maybe he’d only imagined the haunted look on her face as she’d watched her patient.
Avoiding Chase and the look on his face was her goal. Seeing this woman had brought back memories for both of them that neither of them cared to have. Caring for this woman was her job, and she would do it well, but making eye contact with Chase would be her undoing. She had to avoid it. Like her patient, she couldn’t deal with his compassion for her pain. What she needed to do was keep busy and focused on her work. The rest would eventually go away. It always did. Situations like this brought everything back to slam her right in the gut when she wasn’t looking.
Trying to stop the trembling in her hands, she prepared the lab tubes and labeled them appropriately, but her mind was elsewhere.
Night, being alone in the dark, was the toughest. Night was when the shadows darkened in her mind and the whispers of her attacker infiltrated her barriers. Bitch. I’m gonna get you, bitch. Sometimes all it took was hearing that word bitch to send her all the way back to that dark awful night.
She applied the tourniquet to Mrs. Billings’s arm and inserted the needle into the vein. Emily swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in her mouth. She filled each tube the way she was supposed to and applied a small dressing to the tiny puncture site of the left arm. Focused. Clinical.
Emily placed the tubes filled with blood for testing into a zippered lab bag for transport. After setting them in the lab pick-up rack, she realized her heart hadn’t settled down and the tightness in her chest hadn’t eased. Was it Chase? Was it the husband? Was it this patient? Maybe all of it combined in such a short time worked together to rob her of her strength.
Making her way to the supply room, she checked to make sure she was alone then removed her lab coat, placed a towel on the floor, sat cross-legged on it and closed her eyes.
There was a place she liked to go mentally when stressed and it was a place from her past where she’d been happy, walking alone on the sand at Virginia Beach, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin, the salt on the breeze and the coarse sand on her feet.
This was the place where she let go of stress, released it to the ocean waves and found some peace.
Until Chase walked into the supply room.
“What are you doing?” He stopped short just inside the doorway.
Startled, she opened her eyes. The serenity that had been on her face vanished and it was his fault. Dammit. She’d looked so peaceful for a second, and he’d ruined it.
“I was meditating.” She blinked a few times, as if coming back to herself from wherever she had been.
“Now? In the middle of the shift?”
“Yes. I’m entitled to breaks. Several, in fact, over the course of twelve hours. What I do with them is my business.” Closing her eyes again, she tried to ignore him, but it was impossible.
“Yes, that’s true.” He squatted down beside her, too close for her senses. “You never used to meditate.” Obvious irritation showed in the frown between her delicate eyebrows and the downward turn of her mouth. Not that he blamed her.
“I never used to do a lot of things.” She looked up at him, held his gaze, almost challenging him. “I’ve acquired some new skills.”
“Like your new ninja reflexes? Are you taking karate or something?” He’d never seen her move so fast. That had impressed him.
“Not karate. If I had used karate I’d have taken out his knee first, but you got in front of me.”
“Judo?” He really didn’t know about martial arts and had just exhausted his knowledge.
“Hardly. In judo, I would have—”
“Whatever. Clearly, you’re an expert now.” And he’d had no clue.
“No. Just determined.” There was an aura of steel about her now. And, yes, determination showed in her eyes. That was the difference he’d been sensing in her.
“To what?” He really wanted to know the answer to that. Genuine curiosity had been roused in him and for the first time today he could set aside the pain.
Without answering the question, she unfolded her legs and stood. “Did you come in here for something or just to annoy me?”
“I saw you come in here and after the day’s events I thought you looked a little off.” That was okay. Looking after a coworker?
“Off? No. I’m fine.” Turning away from him, she began to scan the shelves as if looking for something. “Gauze, suture materials, IV supplies over here. Good to know.” She took a step to the next shelving unit. “GI supplies over here—oh, look, enemas. Never know when you need to get rid of some—”
“Stop it. You’re not fine. If you’re meditating in the middle of a shift, that must mean you’re upset about something. Possibly nearly getting assaulted not long ago?” He let the question hang in the air between them.
She gave him a glare then kept scanning. “Maybe we need to order extra-large enemas for special cases.” The glare she leveled on him left no doubt as to who she would use them on.
“Emily.” Chase intended to make her face him, make her turn around, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Then squealed like a girl and nearly dropped to his knees in pain. “Augh!”
“Don’t touch me, Chase.” Again, her speed defied logic. He had been unprepared for her ability to take his wrist in her hand, apply pressure and leverage to the point of pain, yet she hadn’t batted an eyelid. In fact, she looked calmer than she had since he’d entered the room. The control in her eyes impressed him and maybe scared him a little.
“Okay, okay, okay. Let go. Let go. Ow. Ow. I have to do surgery with that hand.” She released him and the relief was great.
“Unless you want to have both hands in casts, don’t ever try to touch me again.” The calm, serious look on her face was something he never wanted to see aimed at him again, as if she were contemplating squishing an insect.
He shook his hand, grateful she hadn’t really wanted to hurt him or it could have gotten ugly. Baffled, he looked at her as if seeing her for the first time, and maybe he was. Giving her a little space, he took a step back. “Where’d you learn all that stuff?” That
