After The Fire (One Pass Away Book 3) (11 page)

“You said yourself, I’m in terrific shape.”

“Are you ill?” Violet took a deep breath. She didn’t want to
think the words, let alone say them. “Cancer? Your heart? Is there a medical reason?”

“Whoa. Hold on, sweetheart.” Gaige rocked her from side to
side. “My doctor thinks I’ll live to be a hundred. I’m betting on one ten.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He lifted her chin, looking deep into her eyes.
“Though I can’t make any age guarantees.”

“Thank God.” Violet felt like weeping with relief. “I know
life likes to kick a person in the teeth now and then, but it wouldn’t be fair
if I lost you now.”

“Why would I go?” Gaige asked, smoothing her hair back from
her cheek. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

“I DON’T HAVE to ask if you enjoyed your vacation. You haven’t
stopped smiling since you got here this morning.”

Violet took the chart from Pauline Kraig. The nurse had
worked at the Brooklyn hospital for almost thirty years. She was efficient,
cared about her patients, and most of the doctors were scared to death of her.
Violet wasn’t because Pauline had been her recovery nurse after her eye
surgery. They had become friends, and it carried over when Violet returned. Not
as a patient, but as a doctor.

These days, Violet spent most of her time in her Manhattan
office. Three days a week she rotated between several hospitals. Today she was
back in Brooklyn. She never said so, but it was her favorite for several
reasons. Sentimentality at the top. It had been bittersweet to walk the halls
where she met and lost her first love. Today, she said goodbye to the bitter
and embraced nothing but the sweet.

“I had a good time.”

“Good?”

“Okay,” Violet admitted, grinning. She couldn’t seem to stop.
“It was… fantastic.”

“So your dream man didn’t turn out to be a bust?”

“Gaige is… what’s the word?”

“A walking multiple orgasm?”

“Pauline!” Violet checked to see if anyone was listening.
Hospitals were breeding grounds for in-house gossip. For once, they appeared to
be without an audience.

“Well?” Pauline demanded, giving Violet a friendly nudge. “I
looked him up. Holy hotness, Batman. Blond hair and green eyes? That man looks
fine in a tux—and even better out of it.”

“Are there nude pictures floating around that I’m not aware
of?”

“I wish,” Pauline snickered. “Gaige did an ad last year for
Calvin Klein. Those briefs. Left little to the imagination. By the way?
Congratulations.”

“I hear they Photoshop the package,” Beverly Turner said.
The student nurse was only twenty-one and prone to giggles. As she demonstrated
when she said package.

Violet sighed. It was her own fault. She knew better than to
stand around discussing private business. Pauline didn’t help matters by
bringing the pictures up on her phone.

“I ask you.” She said to the gathering group of orderlies
and nurses. “Faux or fantastic?”

“Oh for…” Violet rolled her eyes. It was time to drop her
friend persona and become Dr. Reed. “You are here to look after patients, not
drool over men in underwear.”

Her admonishment worked, but as they went back to work, she
heard, “If that bulge is real, I’ll eat Mrs. Bronson’s orthopedic insoles.”

Violet knew it was childish, but she wanted to call out.
That
is one hundred percent Gaige Benson—no Photoshopping necessary.
But, like
Gaige’s beautiful bulge, she kept her thoughts to herself.

“Sorry about that,” Pauline laughed, Violet joining her.

“The sincerity of your words touches me right here.” Violet
pointed to her butt.

“Dr. Reed?”

Violet turned her head. A nurse from the trauma ward waved
at her.

“What is it, Amy?”

“Dr. Fisher asked for a consult. A woman was just brought in
with a laceration near her right eye. The swelling is significant, and he would
like you to take a look.”

“ER?”

Amy nodded. “Exam room three.”

“Tell him I’ll be right there.”

Violet scribbled some instructions on the chart and handed
it back to Pauline.

“You didn’t answer my question. Faux or fabulous?”

“Use your imagination,” Violet called over her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I will.”

Violet was still smiling when she pulled back the curtain to
exam room three. What she saw wiped away any desire to laugh. A woman lay on
the table, her face caked with dried blood. The right side of her face was
bruised and swollen, most of the damage around the eye area. She was
distraught, but from what Violet could hear, it wasn’t because she was in pain
or worried about her injuries.

“I need to get home. It’s almost dinner time.”

“Relax. We need to take care of you.”

“I’m fine. Just a stupid accident.” The woman thrashed
around, causing Dr. Fisher, who was in the process of examining her eye, to
pull back before the light in his hand did more damage than good.

“We can’t help you unless you stay still.” He whispered for
the nurse to prepare a sedative. “Dinner will have to wait, Mrs. Benson.”

Violet froze.
Benson
? It was a common enough name.
But this was Brooklyn. Gaige’s parents still lived here. Taking a deep breath,
Violet picked up the chart. Wynona Benson, age fifty-six. No doubt about it.
This was Gaige’s mother.

“What are you doing?” Wynona screamed when Dr. Fisher
administered the sedative. She jerked her arm away from the needle, but it was
too late. The drug hit her bloodstream, and her limbs grew heavy. However, it
couldn’t quiet her mouth. Her words were slurred, but they kept on coming. “I’ll
sue. You can’t do that without my permission. Just wait. My husband won’t like
you keeping me here. He needs his dinner right at six.”

Dr. Perry Fisher caught sight of Violet, his relief visible.
“Thank God,” he said. “I’ve tried to look at her eye for the last half hour. I’m
about to up the dosage and knock her out.”

“Let me try.”

“Be my guest. But watch her right cross,” Dr. Fisher rubbed
his upper arm. “She’s stronger than she looks.”

Wynona Benson looked like a woman who had missed too many
meals and suffered the wrath of her husband way too often. Up close, it was
apparent that the damage wasn’t as bad as she first thought.

Amy appeared at her side. The nurse held out a pair of latex
gloves, efficiently slipping them onto Violet’s hands. Taking the penlight from
her pocket, she moved into the spot vacated by Dr. Fisher.

Some people might consider treating Gaige’s mother to be
ethically wrong. At best, borderline—a gray area she should have excused
herself from. But Violet didn’t see it that way. She had never met the woman.
Besides, this was a preliminary examination. If Wynona Benson needed surgery,
she would worry about ethics then.

“Mrs. Benson?” Violet laid her hand on the woman’s shoulder.
“My name is Dr. Reed. I would like to look at your eye. Is that all right with
you?”

At this point, the sedative had completely taken effect.
Wynona waved her hand, which Violet decided to take as a yes.

“We need to get her x-rayed, but there isn’t any major
damage to the eye socket. Get this cut sutured and start a series of compresses
to reduce the swelling. I will examine her again in a few hours.”

Violet wrote down her instructions.

“Home,” Wynona mumbled.

“Is there anyone you would like us to call, Mrs. Benson? A
family member?”

“Husband. No one else.”

Violet frowned. She would blame the drugs for Wynona’s
lapse. The woman was upset and loopy from the shot Dr. Fisher had administered.
That had to be the reason she hadn’t mentioned Gaige.

Violet had planned on calling Gaige as soon as she was done
examining his mother. She had thought Wynona might have a message she wanted to
be passed along. For whatever reason, Violet had been wrong.

“Don’t worry about it.” Violet patted her hand. “We are
going to get that cut stitched up.”

Closing her eyes, Wynona nodded. Violet left the room,
running through her mind what she would say to Gaige.

“It’s obvious she didn’t fall and hit her face.” Dr. Fisher
was just outside the room, sipping a cup of what the hospital passed off as
coffee.

“No,” Violet agreed. “Did you fill out the forms?”

The law required them to report suspected abuse. There was a
standard form a doctor filled out. They had all done it. Most of the time it
ended in frustration—knowing the victim would be back. Or worse. More than
once, instead of the ER, they ended up in the morgue.

Unless Wynona, and women like her, decided to press charges,
the papers were filed and forgotten. Even when the abuser had a record as long
as Don Benson’s.

“I can’t understand it. What makes a woman stay with a man
who uses her as a punching bag? Did you see the scar by her mouth? I would bet
my Yankees’ season tickets that it wasn’t caused because of an accident.”

“There are plenty of theories floating around.”

Violet had minored in psychology with an emphasis on women’s
self-esteem. At one time she had dreams of healing the eyes and the mind. She
found out it was too frustrating. The human psyche was a fluctuating
proposition with no clear path to understanding. She preferred an exact
science—not speculation.

Violet had no idea why Wynona put up with her husband’s
abuse. Other than to call it love—twisted and rotten—she doubted that Wynona
did either.

“We do what we can, eh?” Perry rolled his head from side to
side. Opening one eye, he asked, “Feel like catching some dinner?”

From the day they met, Perry Fisher let Violet know he was
interested in more than a professional relationship. In return, Violet let him
know that she wasn’t. For three years, it was the same routine. He asked. She
said no. End of discussion—until the next time.

Violet found Perry attractive. He was smart. A good doctor
with just enough empathy for his patients. But she didn’t want a workplace
romance. Brief or otherwise.

“My father is expecting me.”

“It’s a good excuse—I suppose.” Perry fell in step with her,
escorting her to the elevator. “You’ve used it for as long as I’ve known you.
Dinner with your parents. Or your father.”

“It isn’t an excuse.” It was, but it was also the truth.

“If you say so.”

Perry leaned against the wall, a slight smirk on his face.
That was another reason Violet continually turned him down. That smirk. There
was something about it. Something… unkind.

“I do say so.”

“Mmm.” Perry took another sip of coffee, watching her over
the rim of the cup. “I hear you’re dating Gaige Benson.”

“In this place, you’re bound to hear all kinds of things.
Gossip thrives.”

“Is it true?” Violet didn’t answer. However, that didn’t
deter Perry. “I’ll give you props. Gaige Benson is a big fish. One of the
biggest. I was—” Perry’s eyes widened. “Wait a second. Benson?”

Violet cursed the slow elevator—and Perry’s quick mind.

“He’s from Brooklyn, isn’t he? Is Wynona Benson a relative.”

“It’s none of your business, Perry.” With a sigh of relief,
Violet watched the elevator doors open. She entered, turning to pin Perry with
her gaze. “Just remember. Wynona Benson is your patient—not a source of gossip.
Whatever you think you know, keep it to yourself.”

Would he
? It was a crap shoot. Perry Fisher wasn’t
known for having loose lips, but something this juicy? Violet couldn’t count on
anyone’s discretion. She needed to call Gaige—right away. Finding a private
place to do it was another matter. She looked around, her gaze stopping on a
medical supply closet. Not great, but any port in a storm.

The time difference worked against her. Seattle was three
hours behind New York. It was just after three o’clock and Gaige would still be
at practice. If she were lucky, she might catch him between drills or on his
way to a meeting. Violet dialed her phone, hoping for the best.

Violet breathed a sigh of relief when Gaige picked up on the
second ring.

“Hello. I was a very good boy today and look at my reward. I
get to hear your voice. It’s a major step up from Harry’s bellowing.”

Gaige sounded happy. There was a sweet, teasing quality in
his voice that she didn’t want to ruin.
Crap
. She hated delivering bad
news. This was worse. He was three thousand miles away. Too far for her to wrap
him in her arms and help him forget what a nightmare his family was.

“Gaige.”

“What’s wrong?” No more teasing—his voice was deadly
serious. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. It’s your mother. She was brought into the
hospital this afternoon. I wouldn’t have known, but her injury was to her eye.
I was called in for a consultation.”

“How is she?” Violet didn’t like the lifelessness she heard
in his voice.

“She should make a full recovery. Other than the swelling,
her sight wasn’t impaired. There might be a slight scar. There’s a deep gash.
Luckily no bones were broken.”

“My father hit her?”

“She says not, but…”

“No one believes her. Smart. She’s been covering for that
bastard for over forty years. That isn’t going to change at this late date.”

There was a long silence. Violet didn’t break it. She
understood that Gaige was processing her news.

“Will they keep her overnight?”

“That depends. If your mother makes a fuss, they’ll
discharge her. It would be best if she stayed for observation, but they can’t
force her.”

“She’ll go home. She always does.”

Violet hesitated to mention the next thing, but she didn’t
know how to get around it.

“They called her apartment, but no one answered.”

“He won’t. He’s either passed out drunk or well on the way.
If you’re expecting him to show up acting the concerned husband—don’t. He
knocks her around. When he breaks a bone, or she loses too much blood, my
mother gets herself to the hospital. Sometimes, if it’s the right time of day,
a neighbor will help. But Don Benson never stirs his ass out of that apartment.
As far as he’s concerned, she made him hit her. She can clean up the mess.”

“Oh, Gaige. I don’t know what to say.” Violet wanted to cry.
“No. I
do
know what to say.”

“Make it fast. I hate long goodbyes.”

“I’m not—” Violet sighed. Idiot. Normally, Gaige was logical
and clear-thinking. Instead of waiting for her to speak, he decided she’s
breaking up with him? Where had that come from?

Fine
, Violet thought. If he wanted it that way, she
had no problem turning it back on him. “Are you breaking up with me?”