shook his head. “That was before. I felt fine. Well, dizzy but fine. But you know. So is it my heart, Doc?”
She removed her stethoscope from around her neck and used the earpieces before pressing the chest piece to his back. “Take a few deep breaths for me.”
The kid complied, and she could hear normal breathing sounds. She then placed the chest piece over his heart. She could hear the rhythmic beating as well as a distinctive click. She removed the earpieces and placed the stethoscope around her neck once again. “Have you experienced these palpitations and chest pains before?”
“No, he’s in perfect health. This has never happened before. Like we said.”
April was taken aback at the agent and tried to keep her lip from curling. “I was asking Antonio. My patient.” She turned back to the kid. “Has this ever happened before?”
The kid looked at his agent, then shifted back to her. “Maybe a couple times, but then it was okay. And I didn’t pass out or nothing.”
“You never told me about that.”
Antonio shrugged off his agent’s comment. “It didn’t seem like a big deal. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, but then it would calm down. Besides, I was in the middle of a workout and your heart is supposed to be pumping that hard.” He focused on her. “Right?”
She gave a nod and made some notes on his chart. “I’d like to do some tests to be sure I understand what’s going on with you.”
The agent scoffed. “Tests? He needs to be back on the field before the coach starts wondering if he needs to find another receiver.”
She didn’t second-guess herself, getting into the agent’s personal space and poking him in the chest. “Hey. Antonio needs to be sure that this isn’t something more serious, something that could end his life, much less his career.”
The man clenched his jaw, and she could see a steady heartbeat in his carotid artery. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Can I see you in private for a moment?”
The agent moved past her and she followed him, but she wasn’t going to back down. She didn’t care how handsome he was or how important he thought his client was, Antonio needed these tests to confirm what she suspected. The man studied her name tag. “Dr. Sprader, I’m sure you can understand the pressure that Antonio is under. He’s a rookie who needs to prove himself. Any kind of issue before he signs with the team, and he’s not likely to see a contract.”
“And I’m sure you can understand that my number one concern is the health of your client. That should be yours, as well.” She put her hand on the curtain to push it aside. The man put his hand on hers to still it. She turned toward him. “Don’t touch me.”
He removed his hand from hers. “What if we promise to go to his regular doctor...tomorrow?”
She doubted that they would make it a priority if Antonio had a tryout scheduled at the same time. “What if I order these tests, and you stop interfering with my job?”
“He’s my job, too. My client.”
“And he’s my patient. Now, why don’t you go to the cafeteria and get a coffee while I take care of Antonio?” She glanced down at his buzzing phone. The sound was annoying. “Or better yet, take your phone to the parking lot and look after your business so I can look after mine.”
The agent bristled, but put his phone to his ear and stalked away. April seized a deep cleansing breath to center herself and focus again on Antonio. Now she pushed the curtain aside. “Okay, then. I’m ordering an echocardiogram to get a better picture of what’s happening with your heart.”
Antonio’s face paled. “Doc, be straight. Is it bad? Am I going to die? Is my football career over already?”
“Let’s see the results of the tests first, then I’ll have a cardiologist take a look at you, too.” She put a hand on his knee. “If it’s what I suspect it is, with treatment and observation, you’ll still have a long life.”
He gave a nod, then cocked his head to the side. “And football?”
“You can still have that, too.” She made more notes on his chart. “But let’s wait and find out what the tests say.”
She sent him a reassuring smile and stepped beyond the curtain. As she did so, a man grabbed her and put a knife to her throat. “Where’s the drug closet?”
Great. It was going to be one of those days.
* * *
ZACH HARRISON FINISHED his last phone call and glanced back at the entrance to the emergency room. Coach Petrullo had called to check on Antonio’s condition. “The overzealous doctor is running tests, but Antonio will be on the field good as new tomorrow,” he’d assured the man. He only hoped he hadn’t overstated the truth. The kid had to be okay. He was young and active. His football career was about to begin. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to take it away. Right?
Zach slipped his phone into his suit coat pocket and walked through the open automatic doors. He needed Antonio in action, but he needed the kid healthy even more. He regretted how callous he’d probably come across to Dr. Sprader earlier. He’d noticed how she’d barely kept her contempt under wraps, and he wanted to go back in time and change that. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He could be nice. A sweetheart, even. Though he’d been accused of using that to his advantage, rather than being sincere.
Shaking off all thoughts of his ex-wife, he practiced what he was going to say to the cute doctor and headed toward where Antonio waited. He saw the doc talking to another patient, a man who seemed to be standing too close to her. Zach paused and assessed the situation. Not only was the guy standing too close, the knife in his hand meant he was a threat. Zach couldn’t spot the security guard he’d seen earlier in the hallways. He knew what he had to do. He’d had self-defense training for situations like this.
He sauntered up to the curtained area. The patient noted him and waved the knife. “Stop. Or I’ll slice her throat. I swear I will.”
Zach held up his hands. “I’m not going to stop you. I’m only here for my client.” He pointed to Antonio, who watched with wide eyes. He looked as if he were ready to jump off the bed and pummel the guy. Zach waved him off. “Why don’t you tell us what you want?”
The grizzled man wore clothes that smelled as if they hadn’t been washed in weeks. “I want to stop the pain.”
Dr. Sprader struggled in the guy’s arms. “I told you last time that you don’t need the drugs, Harley.”
So the good doctor knew the man. Probably had a history of coming into the ER. Zach saw how Harley’s grip on the knife was loosening the more they talked. His knuckles were no longer white from strain. Instead, he flexed his fingers on the handle. If Zach could keep them talking, maybe he could disarm the guy.
“Harley.” The man turned to look at Zach. “What kind of drugs will help you? Maybe if you tell me, then I can go get them.”
The doctor’s eyes flared with emotion, probably anger and even shock. Harley licked his lips. “Oxy works best. Takes the edge off.”
Antonio shifted in the bed, drawing
