Beyond Broken (3 page)

“No, I just wasn’t impressed.” I reached out again. “I’m going to take your pulse, Mr. Bentley. Please remain still.”

He snorted but let me place my two fingers to his wrist. His heartbeat was erratic but strong. Everything I had anticipated and nothing out of the ordinary for someone in his current condition.

With a nod, I removed my fingers from his wrist and made notes on the iPad the front desk had checked out to me when I arrived. After logging in, I entered his stats and then glanced up.

He was watching me. Even though his gaze was anything but clear, there was an intensity behind it that was unsettling in its awareness. A tingle prickled my flesh, but I stopped it from spreading. I held his gaze, unwavering.

“Yes?” I asked after a moment.

“Nothing.” An insecure expression passed over his features before he glanced down.

“Next I’ll take your blood press—”

“Hello, Greyson. I see you’ve made the move from your bed to the couch. I commend your bravery.”

A man strode in; his gaze was fixed on his iPad. He was easily over six feet tall and broad, far broader than any other doctor I had ever met before. His sandy blonde hair wasn’t overly short, so it had a slight curl that gave him the California surfer look. When he glanced up, the piercing blue of his eyes was startling as was the brightness of his grin as he reached out to pat Greyson’s shoulder.

Greyson winced.

“Hey, Dr. Solomon. You really don’t need to speak so loudly,” he mumbled and glanced away, his expression one of grudging respect.

“The sensitivity to noise will pass soon. Ah, you must be our newest addition to the Willow and Oak.” He turned to me and offered a hand.

Shifting my iPad to the other hand, I reached out. His hand was warm and easily enveloped mine.

“Yes. I’m glad to meet you, Dr. Solomon. I’m Sophia Holton.”

“So that’s your first name,” Greyson drawled, pulling my attention from the warm gaze of Dr. Solomon.

“Yes,” I replied, slightly confused.

“Damn Nurse Regina would only say your name was Miss Holton. Makes me feel like I’m your student or something, not that I’d care. You can teach me any day.” He winked.

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “If you were curious, all you had to do was ask, Mr. Bentley.”

“And yeah, if you could cut the
Mr. Bentleys
that’d be great. I’m not sixty,” he grumbled and regarded me with misery. His emotions changed so quickly, but that was common for his particular situation in detox.

“I’m not sure if—” I glanced to Dr. Solomon, trying to determine if I was allowed to let a patient use my first name. Was that against protocol?

Dr. Solomon nodded as if reading my thoughts but his attention turned to Greyson and he watched him curiously as if seeing something that wasn’t fully apparent to me.

“Miss Holton or Sophia is fine, but please mind yourself around the nurses,
any
of the nurses, Greyson, Mr. Bentley.” A warning tone laced the doctor’s words.

Curious at the warning, I watched for a reaction. He didn’t strike me as the type that dealt with authority well.

“Yesterday was not my fault,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I’m simply referring to our code of conduct that you signed when you were admitted. That is all. Now…” Dr. Solomon rubbed his hands together and walked around the couch, bending down in front of Greyson and examining him.

“Today I’d like you to walk a bit. Have you been able to keep your food down?” he asked while tapping his iPad.

“Yeah, mostly.” Greyson adjusted himself and closed his eyes once more.

“Your symptoms will subside after time. You are paying severely for what you did to your body. Hopefully that will deter you in the future.” Dr. Solomon rose.

“You sound just like her.” Greyson opened his eyes and glanced at me before closing them again.

“Then you have a wise nurse. You would do well to listen to her.” Dr. Solomon nodded and began to walk out. “Nurse Holton, may I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course.” I draped my stethoscope around my neck and walked outside and into the hall.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Holton. I’ve reviewed your file and must say I’m impressed. We don’t get many nurses, let alone interns who have raw condition experience. I think your perspective is exactly what is needed — at the Center, but more importantly, with our patient here.”

“Thank you.” A warm blush heated my cheeks, but I tried to maintain my composure.

Dr. Solomon rubbed his chin with his fingers, his brow furrowed. “I feel the need to warn you about Mr. Bentley. Surely you’ve heard of him, but as a person he can be quite compelling. That the management feels you are up to task in caring for him speaks highly of you, but he’s not one you can ever let your guard down around.”

“Thank you. Nurse Regina said something similar. I won’t let you down. And my guard will remain raised.” I nodded, making a mental note to do an online search on Greyson Bentley when I got home. I was missing something important, it seemed.

“Very good. After you’ve finished taking his blood pressure, see if you can get him to walk around. I’ll check in later.” Dr. Solomon regarded me for a moment, his expression curious yet… attracted. But the expression passed though his gaze so quickly; the moment he turned I convinced myself it was imagined. I watched him walk away, then I took a deep breath before entering the suite once again.

“Mr. Bentley—”

“Greyson! Shit.” He moaned and held his head with his hands, likely because of his earlier shout and the headache it caused.

“Greyson…” I articulated carefully.

“Better,” he mumbled.

“You need to get up and walk.” I strode to the front of the couch and reached out my hand. He glanced at it, derision and disbelief coloring his expression.

I wiggled my fingers.

“Yeah, that’s not incentive. This isn’t kindergarten.” He glared at me.

I wiggled my fingers again, just to spite him.

“Fine.” He reached out and grasped my hand tightly. His grip was strong and I saw the sinew in his forearm flex. Slowly he stood. As he rolled his shoulders the white t-shirt he wore stretched under his muscular frame. Swallowing compulsively, I struggled to maintain my composure as my body responded with warmth. He had seemed so much… smaller when he was curled up on his bed or the couch. Now he towered over me, his frame easily two of mine and solid. I took a step back and tugged my hand free.

“You have nice hands,” Greyson said quietly, his eyes focusing on mine. At least one of my first impressions was correct. He was indeed dangerous. Though slightly shaky and clearly weak, he was powerful and his gaze captivated me.

“Th-thank you,” I stammered and then mentally scolded myself.

“Ah, so the ice princess isn’t completely frozen solid. Good to know.” He shot me a cocky grin.

That was all it took to clear my focus.

“I may not be frozen solid, but at least I can walk around on my own. Can you take a few steps forward without my help?” I waited for him to move.

“And we’re back to frozen,” he mumbled and began to walk, a patronizing grin on his face.

“Good. Now, drop and give me twenty.” I jerked my chin and crossed my arms. The shock on his face was priceless.

“Wh—”

“Kidding.” I grinned.

“And she can smile too,” Greyson tossed back while taking a few steps toward the large picture window. He paused just in front of it and gazed over the scenery.

“How much longer?” he asked after a moment.

“‘Til?” I queried while I tapped information into my iPad.

“Until it doesn’t hurt so damn much. Until I can walk without my knees shaking.” He glanced back at me with a dark expression.

“That depends.”

“On what, exactly?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“You.”

“Okay, if you’re going to feed me bullshit about it being ‘all in my head’ I might commit a serious crime in your presence.” He turned, facing me fully.

“No, it’s not all in your head.”

“You’re damn straight, it isn’t.”

“But that’s where you’ll either win the battle or lose it. Your mind, that’s your battlefield.” I took a step closer. “You can mentally give up, stop fighting and just accept the pain as your temporary lot in life, feeling sorry for yourself and justifying your actions. Or…” I took a step to the side of him and faced the window. “Or you can see the pain as evidence that you’re winning the battle, that you are no longer a slave to your addiction. It’s a sign that you’ve overcome it.” I turned my gaze to Greyson, watching my words war against what he felt. His easiest course was to feel sorry for himself, exactly what he’d been doing earlier.

“So you’re telling me to man up?” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you even understand what I’m going through here? I mean, really? Damn.”

“I can’t tell you to do anything. I’m saying you should
want
to ‘man-up’ as you put it. I can’t do any of this for you. This is all you.” I shrugged, not at all surprised at his reaction. He was the alpha male, and certainly not used to a stranger invading his personal life. I don’t know what it was about him that made me so honest. It was like his gaze removed any filter I had, piercing my heart, removing all my common sense.

“It would sure be a hell of a lot easier if—”

“You could finish that sentence with any number of things, but none of them will help you. You made some wrong decisions. You’re paying for them. Here’s where you get to make a few right ones.” I clicked off my iPad and tucked it under my arm. “I’ll be back shortly to check on you. Stay on your feet as much as possible.”

With that, I walked out of the room. If there was one thing Greyson Bentley needed, it was the truth. With me, he wasn’t going to get anything else.

****

After the first few days of following much of the same routine, I arrived to find Dr. Solomon was waiting for me.

“Miss Holton, I’d like to speak with you about our patient, Mr. Bentley.” His expression was serious and he motioned to an empty table and chairs nearby.

I nodded and followed him, tucking a few stray caramel-colored hairs behind my ear that refused to stay in my ponytail.

“I was just made aware that you were not briefed on Mr. Bentley’s case. For that I apologize. It was an oversight on my part, and I simply assumed Regina filled you in. Since I just checked on him and he’s sleeping, I’d like to take a moment to review his file with you.” At my nod he continued.

“I take it you’re aware of his personal history…” Dr. Solomon regarded me with those crystal blue eyes as if I should know something.

Ugh!
I had completely forgotten to do any research.

“Actually, I’m not familiar with any personal history, aside from what I was able to read in his file earlier. Although I must say, now that I think about it, the name sounds vaguely familiar.” I felt my brow furrow in confusion. Why hadn’t I realized that earlier?

“Perhaps that is why you are best suited for this case then.” He pulled out his reading glasses and placed the bold black frames on his face while logging into his iPad. “Mr. Bentley is in his first week of detox from cocaine, among other things. You’ve seen the side effects of the withdrawals, and today it’s about the same. I expect that he’ll continue to have them for the next ten to fourteen days, depending on how his body reacts.” He shrugged and leaned back, regarding me with slightly narrowed eyes. “Cocaine, as you know, has a shorter period of detox than something like heroin. While Mr. Bentley will no longer need to be under the Center’s twenty-four hour care, he’ll still be required to attend group counseling and other therapy of that nature after his withdrawal symptoms are gone and he’s been discharged.”

“Is there anything out of the ordinary I should be aware of?” I asked after a moment.

“Miss Holton,” Dr. Solomon took off his glasses and leaned back. “There is one thing that concerns me. You see, while I’m sure you are aware of the erratic behavior and emotional volatility of someone in Mr. Bentley’s situation, I highly doubt you’ve ever experienced it from someone like him. You see, he’s the type of man who is accustomed to… getting what he wants. His determination to have you as his private care nurse concerns me because, though clearly weakened and suffering, Mr. Bentley is still quite compelling. I feel it wise to warn you against developing any attachment.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I highly doubt—”

“Please.” He held up his hands to halt any interruption. “All I’m asking is that you remain on guard because there is far more to that man than what you’ve seen so far.” He leveled a solemn look as he regarded me, waiting for my response.

“I understand, sir.” I swallowed, a mix of fear and curiosity stirring inside of me.

“Thank you, that’s all I ask. Now…” Dr. Solomon put his glasses back on and began to describe Mr. Bentley’s schedule for the day and where and when I’d need to assist him.

“Thank you, Dr. Solomon.” I stood once he clicked off his iPad.

“Of course.” He gave me a boyish grin, showing off his white smile and strode away.

I turned and glanced toward Greyson’s door.

Who are you?

I knocked lightly so I wouldn’t wake him if he were still asleep. After all, I had other rounds to make but his care was my priority assignment.

“Come in.” His voice was weak, so quiet I almost missed it.

I walked in quietly and regarded the room. All the windows were shut tightly and I knew by the smell that he had entered into the second stage of vomiting and more flu-like symptoms. With a fortifying breath, I strode forward and began to look for him. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but soon I noticed light coming from the bathroom.

“Hello? Mr. Bentley?” I called softly, knowing any loud noises would either cause anxiety or a headache.

“Here. I’m here in hell. Do me a favor and find me a gun,” he mumbled against the tub as he leaned against it. The bathroom was spacious, reminding me more of a home than rehab center. But that’s what made Willow and Oak different; they approached the recovery with a setting that mimicked a home environment. Though right now, in Greyson’s state, I doubt he noticed.