“Well,” I managed to say. “In that case, you don’t need my story.”
I regretted the words immediately. But they had no effect on her cheer.
“I don’t need your story.” She went over to the foot of my bed and started flipping through the chart. “I can read it all right here and get the rest from the police.”
I watched her smooth, dark face furrow, watched her full lips as they murmured through the text. That was a medical chart. There was nothing there. And she wasn’t going to get anything from the cops.
My body chilled around a thought: No, she wouldn’t find anything, but they might find something from her. Like the location of a certain bullet that must still be in this hospital.
“Come back tomorrow,” I said.
She glanced up.
“I’ll tell you what happened tomorrow,” I repeated.
“Alright. I’ll hold you to it, though.” She hooked the chart back to the bed and left.
I blew air. Lies were wasted energy. Now, this one was growing bigger.
I didn’t feel stress thinking about having to come up with a story for her. Just relief at the idea of being in her presence again.
Of all the stray thoughts that evening, that rattled me the most. I hoped it was still the meds.
The curtains rustled. Rosa peeked back in.
“Sweet dreams, army boy.” She flashed a smile and was gone.
It took me half a minute to bring my brain back down from what that smile did to me.
It took another minute for me to realize what I’d been feeling.
And then I remembered what I was thinking, harder and deeper than before.
What the hell are you doing, Calix?
CHAPTER THREE
Rosa
I’d never gotten butterflies coming into work before. Stomach aches and ulcers, yes. In fact, I had a bit of
that
when I caught Lem giving me a smarmy smile from across the nurse’s station.
But as my rounds edged me closer and closer to the last room on the west wing, my breath started to stall out altogether. I read the vitals for the last few patients on full auto-pilot, while my brain prepared for another sight of that rugged face.
He was still here. I knew that. I’d checked the patient logs the moment I’d got in.
In fact, I’d checked up on a lot more about him. The police had handed off a report deeming him not a threat. He was a soldier based in south Atlanta. I’d figured from what he showed up wearing, but the fact he was still active duty was new.
It meant that, maybe, for the first time, it wasn’t so nuts to fall for a man I liked. He wasn’t some lost cause - just a good guy who’d had an accident.
Today, I’d get to find out why. I didn’t imagine I’d get an awful lot. He didn’t talk so much as rustle his lips once in a while. Still, I didn’t mind watching him and waiting. Those deep pulses of his voice were something else. Every word rumbled down my spine like thunder.
I paused outside his room to primp my hair and smooth my frock. It was useless - I might as well have tried to make overalls look sexy. But the insane often did things that make no sense, and I always got a little bit nuts when I met a man I liked.
Lilly chose that effing second to pass by me in the halls. She stopped and squinted at me from the other side of the door.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Was one of your patients traumatized by a slightly disheveled woman?”
“I just had a really tough round,” I said. “Calming myself down.”
“I saw the rooms you got. Half of them are just flu cases.”
She started thumbing through the patient sheets by the door.
“Stop that,” I said, completely regretting booking every shift together with this girl.
“I’m guessing it’s not seventy two year old Lee Rimes that’s got you so hot and bothered. Which leaves Mr. Six foot three Calix Black.”
Even through her high, annoying voice, the name sent shivers down me.
The curtains rustled inside the room. I remembered that air did little to nothing to block sound.
“Ok,” I hissed. “I’ve got a cute patient. Happy?”
“Cute patient with a bullet wound…” Her eyes tightened as she read the report.
“He’s an active duty soldier,” I whispered.
“A clumsy one.”
Somehow that idea had never entered my brain. Calix, clumsy? I could only remember the stiff purposeful way he’d walked into ER. Even with a bullet in his leg, he moved in a solid way. The police had reported his injury as non-criminal in nature. But maybe there was more to it than that.
“Accidents happen to everyone,” I said.
“Hmm. Well, lucky for you then.” She cupped her mouth and yelled, “He’s certainly your type.”
I grabbed her by the shoulder and hurried her down the hall a couple feet, before setting foot in the room.
My heart pounded and my stomach felt like a brick. So much for being composed.
I clipped over to check on Mr. Rimes first. He was a sweet, black gentleman that kind of reminded me of my dad, though they looked nothing alike. His TV was tuned to some game show, and he had a big dopey grin on his face. Seeing that loosened me up a bit.
I shut my brain off, turned and crossed the curtain to Calix’s side.
He’d been peering high out the window, like he was trying to see over the buildings. He lay with his hands clasped, looking serene and powerful like a cliff wall. His blue patient gown looked way out of place. He would be better off naked. Or maybe that was just me.
I knew he had noted my entrance, but he took his time giving me his attention. My pulse threatened to crash through my chest again. He must have heard Lilly. Was he playing dumb to dull my interest?
Or maybe, he was hiding his.
Finally, his pale blue eyes landed on me. He looked completely at ease.
So much for hidden attraction.
“Hey, good morning,” I said, shoving all my turbulence into a syrupy sweet voice.
“Good morning.” His voice was crisp and dark, a natural bass. It was hard to think this man did anything by accident.
“How’s the pain?” I remembered that I was here for work and busied myself over his monitors.
“It’s there. I’ve had worse.”
The edges of his mouth tightened for a flash. I looked at his tray and saw the little tin still holding pills.
“You need to take your meds,” I said.
“I can manage.”
“It’s not just painkillers, dummy. There’s antibiotics, too.”
I thought he might protest, but he just breathed out loud. “Then give me those alone.”
“You’re hurting,” I said. “There’s nothing unmanly about dulling the pain from a freaking gunshot.”
His lips spread into a powerful smile. It was unexpected and utterly gorgeous.
“Unmanly?” he said. “You think that’s my concern?”
I forced myself to sound easy. “I know you military types, all full of testosterone and bravado.”
“Then you haven’t met many who actually fought. I’m no stranger to painkillers. But they make it hard to be alert.”
“Alert?” I said. “You’re in a hospital. What’s the danger?”
His cheer vanished like a stray note. Had I tripped something? He’d been in a warzone until recently. Maybe his head wasn’t as clean as I dreamed it was.
“I don’t see a need for them,” he said firmly. “Eventually I’ll feel the injury. If I start feeling now, every day can only be better than the last.”
I covered my heart with my hands. “Oh, that’s good. You should write a book. Oprah would
love
you.”
He seemed to relax again, but he didn’t say anything. I wondered if he was going to make me drag things out inch by inch.
“So, about last night…”
“You still want the story?”
I leaned on the window and found a spot where the buildings didn’t cast the sun on my face. “A promise is a promise.”
“I shot myself,” he said. “I dropped my gun and shot myself as I picked it up.”
“That’s it? That’s the story?”
“It’s what I told the police.”
A dark little smile shaded his face. I shivered at what that could mean, but asked anyway. “So what’s the truth?”
“That is the truth. I did shoot myself with my gun. It just wasn’t my army issued gun.”
“No?”
He searched his thoughts a moment - for the truth, or perhaps the details he could trust me with.
Maybe, it just wasn’t that exciting. I reminded myself I shouldn’t want him to be that exciting. Exciting meant dangerous, and I had been with enough unstable men already.
Dating a soldier might be the one chance to eat my cake and not end up with a stomachache.
“My family lives here,” Calix said. “It was a Sunday and I was visiting. My father told me his gun was misfiring when he took it to the range. I cleaned it. I dropped it. I picked it up by the trigger, not knowing it had a bullet. Now I’m here.”
“So same story. It just happened at your folks’ place.” I shrugged. “What’s the difference?”
“It sounds worse.”
“It doesn’t sound that bad to me.”
I remembered the proud look on his face as he walked in. Maybe this was some pride BS I couldn’t understand.
Or maybe it wasn’t the truth.
“But wait, why did you come here alone? I thought your father was with you.”
“He’d left for morning service.”
“Your mother too?”
A shadow sank over his face so dark, so hard. I almost wanted to see if something had flown past the window.
“She left this world a long time ago,” he said, with a voice like granite.
“Oh,” I said, feeling my own heart slow. “I’m so sorry. Cal- Mr. Black.”
No one said anything. Mr. Rimes’ laughter rang over our silence.
“It was violent,” I said. There had been no mistaking that look.
“She died from violence, yes,” Calix said softly. “Violence that had nothing to do with her.”
I looked down at the busy streets below. “Yeah, I know how that goes.”
“Do you?” he whispered. It almost sounded like a threat.
“I do actually. The same thing happened to my father.”
“I see.”
That was an odd response. No sorry, not even silence. He saw?
Calix simply studied me with that calm face I was already so used to.
Suddenly, I had no idea what I ever expected from him. Maybe on the surface his strength didn’t make him swagger, but there was still something dark buried deep inside. Something beyond his mother’s death.
Maybe it was more serious than what other guys fought for, but that didn’t mean it was a thing I should be around.
I turned to the window to hide a low sigh. He was a soldier. He was injured, but deep down he was a hard man. He would be wrong for in the same way that all the other ones were wrong.
I was used to being disappointed. But not this early. If only we hadn’t met this way, I could have at least allowed myself to fall hard and have our fun before it all fell apart.
“Let me get you those pills,” I said.
“There’s no rush.”
But there was. I needed to move to get away from my mood. I was starting to think about Dad’s death. Twelve years, and still I couldn’t even mention the incident without the pain bubbling up.
I grabbed his little pill tray and strode out to the floor pharmacy. The steady hum of the busy floor set me at ease. I was chill by the time I got to the front of the line and told Stacy the new meds.
“Rosa,” an annoying voice rose up from behind me. “Whose pills are you changing?”
Lem stood over my shoulder. Great, just what I needed.
He had on his white coat, all buttoned up, with his name tag in extra-large font. His hair looked slick. I was sure he’d wear this outfit everywhere if he could get away with it.
“Mr. Black doesn’t want painkillers, so I’m giving him the antibiotics separately. I don’t need your signature to get rid of those.”
“It would still be a courtesy if you could consult me about my own patient. The man suffered a gunshot. How is he supposed to cope with that?”
I remembered his words. “By feeling it now, so that it gets better each day.”
“Some injuries are too big for that.”
“Perhaps.” Like the injuries that shattered your soul.
I hadn’t faced the pain after my father’s death. I tried to be one of the gang girls at school instead, hanging out with wanna-be crooks and pretending to be hard. It took very little time for it not to be pretend anymore. Mamá had moved us out of Miami mostly to get me away from that world.
It didn’t seem like Calix had followed his own advice when it came to his mother either.
Lem added separate pain meds to the antibiotics. I took them all and dashed back to the room, but a steady set of footsteps trailed me.
“What are you doing?” I looked back at Lem.