Except, Jane’s not dead. She’s busy scrambling along her bed, tearing her IV out, and getting caught up in the wires in place to help her. Terrified and sobbing, she viciously slaps Janine’s hands away, crying out in pain as fat tears roll onto her too-pale cheeks. “Don’t touch me! Don’t?—”
“Ollie!” Janine grabs on, saving Jane from spilling off the other side of her bed. “Little help, please!”
“Shit. Yep!” I toss the file down and sprint around to the other side, catching Jane as their hands part and she springs backwards.
Her cries turn feral. Her fear, electric. “Let me go!” She heaves for fresh oxygen as her lungs constrict and her chest collapses with every failed inhale. She hunches in on herself and claws at my hands, desperately trying to free herself. “Please! Stop.”
“You need to calm down.” I put her back on the bed and press her shoulder to keep her down. Janine speeds out of the room, her escape drawing Jane’s distraction enough that she stills and allows me a second to snag my penlight. “You’re safe, okay? You’re in the hospital and you’re completely, one hundred percent safe. I swear.” I lean around her and flash the light in her eyes, one after the other. “I bet you have a helluva headache, huh?”
“I don’t…” She shakes all over, her fear vibrating all the way down to the wheels on the bed. “W-what happened to me? Where am I?”
“You picked a fight with a car and lost. If I let you go, do you promise not to jump up again?” I soften my grip anyway, narrowing my eyes while she considers her options.
Shove me away and run? Fall off the bed and smack her head again?
She releases an explosive, shuddering breath and fists the sheets beneath her.
“Good choice.” I tuck the penlight in my breast pocket, and because the long, brain-achingbeeeeeeeepof the monitor claws against the side of my brain, I pick up the finger clip and open it again, waiting… waiting for Jane’s brown-red-greeny-gold eyes to flicker across and study it.
She doesn’t offer her hand, but she doesn’t flip out on me either, so I carefully peel her bloodied, chipped-nailed finger away from the sheet and slide it back into place.
“That’s better.”Jesus. My pulse hammers and my breath catches in my throat. Licking my lips, I take stock of the room and the mess created in a matter of seconds. “You tore your IV out.” I spy fresh blood seeping through her gown, right where I stitched her up a few hours ago. “Busted your sutures open, too. How are you feeling?”
“I-I don’t understand what I’m…” She swings her focus to the window at my back, her eyes narrowing at the bright white wall of snow drifting to the ground. Then, when Janine rushes back in, Jane wrenches her head that way, the monitorbeep-beep-beepingand her heels digging viciously into the mattress. She attempts to scramble backwards, half-climbing the railing and almost spilling over the side.
“Stop! Ma’am!” I catch her again and pin her by the shoulders, then I meet Janine’s eyes and look to the tray in her hands—lorazepam, to calm Jane down, and droperidol, to knock her the hell out, both in injectable form. “No.”
She skids to a stop. Assessing. Then, twisting and putting the tray on the far counter.
Good.
Let’s bring the energy wayyyy fuckin’ down.
Calmly, I bring my focus back to Jane. “You’re safe. We’re here to help you. I know you’re scared and confused, but youneedto stay put. You have a brain injury and a bleed that could getmuchworse if you keep jumping around and falling off beds.”
“I have a…” Hiccupping, she probes the back of her head with a blood-stained hand, hissing when she finds the tender spot. “What?”
“If you promise to stay still, I promise to tell you everything I know.” For the second time in as many minutes, I draw my hands back. “My name is Doctor Darling.” Slowly, so fucking carefully, I point to the embroidered name on my coat. “I bet you have a massive headache right about now. So if it’s okay with you, we might get you something for that.”
I nod for Janine.
That’s all the communication she needs to turn on her heels and leave.
“Most people just call me Ollie. Since Doctor Darling comes across as kinda pretentious.” I inch backwards and grab the cord for the blinds, pulling them most of the way closed and blocking out the stark white glare coming off the snowy hills outside. “I was on shift last night when you came in via ambulance. Do you remember what happened to you?”
With less light, the squint of her eyes softens.Fractionally. But her pulse continues sprinting. Long, tan legs sit exposed outside her gown, and her blankets glow bright, fresh-blood red.
“Do you remember being hit by a car?”
She rubs the back of her head again, fat, devastated tears rolling onto her cheeks. “No, I… I don’t remember that.”
“Do you remember seeing me last night?” I glance toward the door as Janine comes back in carrying a cup of water in one hand and a cup of pills in the other.
Jane swings her head around, her pulse screaming louder and louder.
“She’s a nurse,” I explain. “She won’t hurt you either, I promise.”
“For your pain.” Janine approaches slowly, her hands extended. “This is just ibuprofen. We’ll get your IV hooked back up shortly, and I’ll be able to get you something better.”
