All of Me (35 page)

 Nathan swallowed
down the fist in his throat.  “You’re not giving up on me, sweetheart.  You’re
letting me go.  So that you and the baby can have a fighting chance a good,
peaceful, safe life.” 

Stella stomped her
foot.  “But I don’t want to let you go!  And the only way the baby and I are
going to have a good, peaceful, safe life is if you’re with us!”

Who was the
darling, delusional one now?

“Go inside,
Stella.  Please.”

Before I lose
my resolve.  Or my mind.  Or both.

“I love you,
Nathan.”

He cleared his
throat.  “I love you too, Stella.  Now go inside.”

She finally did;
making her way up the stairs, through the door, and inside.  Stella shut the
door behind her and Nathan waited until he heard all three locks turn before he
left.

Chapter
Twenty-Nine

Nathan stared at
the short list of names and numbers he’d complied.  He felt like an asshole
even though there was no one else there to see this tangible display of
weakness.

He had no idea
what the difference between a psychiatrist, psychologist, or licensed counselor
was, so he’d written down one of each  They were all men, all local, and all
supposedly specialists in PTSD.

Which Nathan
hadn’t thought he had until he’d Googled the symptoms at 4 in the morning. 

Flashbacks,
upsetting dreams, avoidance, feeling emotionally numb, difficulty getting close
to people and maintaining relationships, anger, guilt, shame, and insomnia. 
Oh, yeah, and self-destructive behaviors.

Nathan was
surprised there wasn’t a picture of his face next to the Mayo Clinic’s
description.  He could be the fucking poster boy. 

And he could apply
those symptoms to his childhood
and
his time over in Afghanistan.  They
were two distinctly different times in his life that were causing different
kinds of issues, but Nathan was experiencing what he now conceded could be
PTSD-caused reactions regarding both of them. 

So, Stella had
been right all along, damn it. 

He’d left her
house last night, driven home, and gone straight to the basement.  But he
hadn’t been able to hurt himself.  The memory of Stella’s expression and the
way she’d kissed his hands…it would have been a slap in the face to her.  So,
he’d run on the treadmill for two hours instead.  Afterwards, he’d gone
upstairs and paced for about two hours before hopping online.  He’d typed
“PTSD” into the search bar and forced himself to read a lot of shit he hadn’t
wanted to. 

Nathan had read a
very small amount of material on cognitive behavioral therapy as a treatment
for PTSD and started looking up people who might be able to provide that.  Not
because he thought it would work or because he thought he was worth fixing, but
because he owed it to Stella and the baby to at least try. 

When Nathan
inevitably failed and remained the ticking time bomb he knew he was, at least
he could tell Stella he’d tried.  That he’d loved her and the baby enough to
face his demons, even thought he knew, ultimately, the demons would always win.

He’d slept for a
few hours before getting up and getting ready for his shift.  It was Wednesday
night and Stella always worked Wednesdays, so Nathan would swing by the
hospital around 11:15 and watch her walk to her car.  Now that he knew that
she
knew he was lurking around, maybe he’d even say “hi.”  And follow her home to
make sure she got in okay.

Nathan was every
inch the stalker Stella had accused him of being.  But he was oddly
unremorseful about his borderline illegal behavior.  Mostly because he knew
Stella didn’t mind.  In fact, knowing her, she probably thought he was acting
all romantic and chivalrous and shit.

Nathan and Danny
made it till about 8 o’clock without getting any crazy calls.  But at 8, they
got a domestic disturbance centered around, of all things, a cat.  These two
people had been screaming and swinging and belligerent because they’d broken
up, but both wanted “custody” of the cat.  Who had spent the entire time Nathan
and Danny were there looking as aggravated as Nathan had felt.  After getting
both of them to agree to some 50/50 schedule Danny had pulled out of his ass,
the guy had left.

Nathan and Danny
piled back into their cruiser.

Nathan turned over
the ignition.  “I still can’t believe you got those two maniacs to sign that. 
I was about haul both of their asses to jail just to give that poor cat some
peace and quiet.”

Danny laughed. 
“Anyone who swings on their ex over a cat is probably ridiculous enough to sign
a “custody agreement” on the back of a Subway receipt, right?”  After Nathan
grunted a reply, Danny cleared his throat.  “So are we gonna talk about what
happened last night?”

 
Damn. 

“No need. I was
having a rough one and got nasty with you.  Sorry about that,” Nathan said, his
gaze straight forward.  

“So you
don’t
think I’m fucking Stella?”

“No.”  After a
second, Nathan turned to him, eyes narrowed.  “Why, you thinking about it?”

Danny barked out a
laugh.  “No, D, I’m not thinking about it.”  He shot Nathan a sideways look.  “
Much
.”

“
Danny
…” 

“Kidding,
kidding,” Danny said, grinning.  “So, did you go to her house or did she come
to yours last night?”

“What do you
mean?”

“Well, you didn’t
strangle me with your bare hands or shove your Glock in my face when you saw me
today, so I’m pretty sure you guys got together last night after I left.  She’s
the only one who can get you to chill the fuck out when you get all crazy.”

Nathan grunted.

“So, let me guess,
she went over to your place?”  When Nathan nodded, Danny shook his head.  “That
little sneak.  She promised me she’d stay put.” 

“Yeah, well, that
particular woman is notorious for her impulsiveness and poor decision making.”

“So did you guys
work everything out?”  Danny’s hopeful tone had Nathan feeling guilty about how
shitty he’d been to him lately. 

“Not exactly.”   

“Meaning what? 
That you’ve decided to miss another three months of her pregnancy – sitting
alone at your house pining for a woman who wants nothing more than to love you
unconditionally forever?  Who you already know you’re going to end up with
eventually despite being a stubborn, stupid asshole?”

God, Danny had
an annoying flair for the dramatic.

Although he was
spot on.

“Something like
that.” 

Nathan turned left
onto a thoroughfare.  “I looked up PTSD last night.”

He could see
Danny’s wide-eyed expression out of the corner of his eye.  “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

Nathan shrugged. 
“Could explain some stuff with me.”

“Ya think?”  He
ignored Nathan’s dirty look.  “So what made you do that?”

That wasn’t a
difficult question to respond to, but the answer was intimate and personal and
involved Nathan admitting he’d been…well, a stubborn, stupid asshole.

Nathan shrugged. 
“Can’t hurt to try and figure some stuff out, right?  I don’t think it’s going
to make any difference, but there’s no harm in trying.”

“I
think…wow…that’s phenomenal, Nathan.  Seriously.”  Danny clapped a hand on Nathan’s
shoulder.  “I’m really proud of you, man.  I know saying that is going to get
you all uncomfortable and pissed off, but I have to, D.”

“Don’t get your
hopes up too high,” Nathan said.  “It’ll probably go nowhere fast, but at least
it’ll get Stella off my back.  For a while.”

“So you guys are
back together then?” 

“No.”

“Then why do you
care about keeping her off your back?  Since you’re not together?”

Danny was pushing
his luck and he knew it.  When Nathan shot him a warning glance, Danny lifted
his hands in surrender.  “Okay, I’ll let it go.”  But then a second later, he
asked, “When do you think you’ll see her again?”

“Not anytime
soon.” 

Well, other than
his stalking episodes, anyway.

“Uh-huh.” 

Nathan chose to
ignore Danny’s sarcastic ass reply.

“9, we’ve got a
shooting at St. Mary’s Hospital.”

His world stopped
and Nathan froze.  Danny grabbed the mouth piece and pressed the radio button. 
“Copy that.  Details?”

“Several
injuries.  Other cars en route presently.  The suspect was tackled by staff and
is being held.  He is no longer a threat.”

Nathan grabbed the
mouthpiece from Danny.  “Any fatalities?  Who was hit?”

“We don’t have
that information right now.  No fatalities reported yet.”

Nathan’s heart was
pounding so hard he thought it might split his ribcage wide open.  He didn’t
hear Danny talking or the sound of their siren wailing as he raced toward St.
Mary’s.  The only thing he was aware of the hideous, sinking feeling in his
stomach.

Nathan pulled out
his cell phone, but his hand was shaking so badly he dropped it.  Danny picked
it up and Nathan told him, “Call Stella’s cell.  Now.  Hurry up.  Please.” 

Danny found her
number and dialed.  After four agonizing rings and a kick to voicemail, Nathan
slammed the accelerator to the floor. 

“Call the
hospital’s main line!” he yelled at Danny.

“We’re almost
there.  Maybe we should wait-“

“Do it!”

“Okay, D.  I’m on
it.”  Danny looked up the number and dialed.  But no one answered.

 As soon as Danny
hung up, Nathan’s cell rang.  “Thank God!”  He grabbed it from Danny and
answered.  “Stella!”

“No, it’s Nina.” 
Nathan’s heart sank.  “I just heard the call over the radio.  What do you
know?”  

“There was a
shooting.  Suspect has been subdued.  There are some injuries, but no fatalities
that they’re aware of,” Nathan replied hoarsely.

“
Thank God
.” 
Nathan could hear Nina’s siren wailing in the background.  “I’m on my way. 
I’ll see you there.”

Nathan hung up. 
His phone rang again.  This time he checked…it was an unfamiliar number.

“What?”

“Officer Drazek?”
a male voice asked. 

“Yes, who’s this?”

“This is
Christopher.  Stella Ciaramitaro’s friend.  From work.”  Christopher sounded
flustered and upset and every muscle in Nathan’s body tensed up.  “Where is
Stella?  Let me talk to her!”

The brief pause
was enough to push Nathan over the edge.  “Put her on the fucking phone!”

“The guy came in
through the ER…she was shot,” Christopher said, now crying.

“
Oh, my God
…”

The phone slipped
from Nathan’s fingers.

Danny grabbed it. 
“This is Officer Daniel MacDonough.  Two whom am I speaking?”  After a brief
pause, Danny asked, “Is she alive?  Uh-huh…okay…yeah, we’ll be there in a few
minutes….okay, thanks.” 

Danny hung up. 

“Is she alive, goddamn
it?”

Danny’s brief
pause was the longest two seconds of Nathan’s life. 

“Yeah.  She’s in
bad shape, but she’s alive.  He said she was hit near her stomach, Nathan. 
They aren’t sure about what’s going on with the baby yet.  But they are working
on her right now…they’re doing all they can.”  Danny clapped a hand on Nathan’s
shoulder.  “Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking sorry.”

The baby. 

He’d been so
worried about Stella he hadn’t thought about the baby. 

Our baby. 

Nathan squealed
into the ER entrance and threw the cruiser in park.  He ran in through the double
doors.  He ran past other officers trying to relay information to him and past
crying, shaken employees and patients.  It was a chaotic, loud, messy scene,
with people and police running everywhere and sounds of shouting and things
crashing in the distance.  Nathan slammed his fist into the round, silver
button and slid between the opening doors leading back into the actual ER. 

And that’s when he
saw all the blood.  It was everywhere:  on the floor, on the walls, splattered
against the glass separating the nurses’ station from the patient rooms.

“Stella!”  Nathan
shouted, frantically searching for her in every space, corner and room. 
“Stella!”

As chaotic as the
waiting and triage area had been, it was eerily quiet and calm back here. 
There were many visibly shaken employees and a few gown-clad patients scattered
throughout the ER.  They all turned toward Nathan as he continued screaming
Stella’s name.    

He ran up to the
blonde nurse he recognized as the one who had tried to patch his hand up that
night.  “Where is she?”

She started crying
harder and another nurse put her arm around her shoulders.  “In surgery.”   The
blonde pointed toward the opposite end of the ER.  “They’re working on her
right now.”

As Nathan ran in
the direction she’d pointed, the sounds of loud talking and multiple crashes
grew louder.  He finally found the room with all of the commotion and yanked
the door open.

“Get out!  We’ve
got an emergency surgery in progress here!”  One of the masked guys yelled out
over the loud cacophony of the surgeon’s clipped, loud orders and the clanking
of equipment.  But then he looked up and saw a police officer standing there. 
“Oh, sorry, officer!”  He handed the surgeon an instrument and pointed out
toward the main ER.  “They’ve got the guy out there!  This is one of our
nurses!  Got shot in the chest!”

Nathan’s knees
went wobbly as he stared at the still form beneath the blue surgical sheeting. 
He dazedly took in the rest of the scene:  bloody gauze everywhere, instruments
being handed and returned, and a handful of people scurrying around doing
god-knew-what as the surgeon continued his work.  A TV screen beside the gurney
had the image of her insides – red, slick and shiny; the surgeon occasionally
glancing up to check his work as he feverishly attempted to keep Stella alive.