All of Me (5 page)

But he’d rather deal
with a drunk than her broken husband.

Nathan entered the room
and found Stella perched on the edge of the mattress, stroking the
patient/perp’s hand.  The woman was still sobbing and thrashing around.

“It’s okay.  I’m here,”
Stella said in a soft tone Nathan would have thought her incapable of.  “And
Officer Drazek is here too.  We’re gonna get you all patched up and figure this
all out.”  Her dark eyes locked with Nathan’s.  “Aren’t we Officer Drazek?”

She knew his name. 

Your nameplate,
dummy.

Nathan nodded, crossing
his arms over his chest. 

Stella stood and
adjusted her scrub top.  She gave the patient/perp another quick pat and a
wink.  “I better go make sure I still have a job.  Be right back.”  She eyed
Nathan for a few long seconds before disappearing behind the salmon-colored
curtain. 

Stella hoped the cop
couldn’t see her shoes underneath the curtain.  She held her breath and leaned
in.

“Stell, that cop is
P.O’d
,”
Christopher whispered over her shoulder.

“I couldn’t care any
less.”

Christopher patted the
top his coarse black buzz cut and peered over his shoulder.  “Those boys are
fine
. 
Did you see the biceps on the blonde? 
Damn
.”

Stella scoffed. 
“Sweetheart, you need a boyfriend.  Bad.  Now go back to the desk so I can
eavesdrop.  I’ll fill you in later.”

When he made no move to
leave, Stella gave him a butt bump.  “Go calm Robocop down.  I’ll fill you in
later.”

Christopher left with a
huff, allowing Stella to turn her full attention back to Officer Drazek.

The ER was an
inherently loud place and Stella could barely hear what he was saying to Dianne
Whitter.  But then things quieted down enough for her to make some of it out.

“Beating yourself up
isn’t going to accomplish anything.  We all have issues we have to deal with
and the most important thing is that you are willing to help yourself, okay?”

The officer’s voice was
barely audible, but Dianne’s pained crying came through loud and clear. 

When she didn’t hear anything
more, Stella pulled back the curtain and peeked in.  She was stunned to see
Officer Drazek standing near the head of Dianne’s bed, awkwardly patting her on
the right shoulder as she cried into his jacket sleeve.  Diane grabbed his arm
and pulled him down, closer to her, and Stella held her breath. 

But Drazek went with
the flow; allowing her to slobber, sniffle, and sob into his perfectly pressed
polyester jacket sleeve.  He was clearly uncomfortable – all stiff limbs and
silence - but he was being a trooper about it.

“Please. Don’t cry,” he
said quietly…almost plaintively.  Drazek tried to recover his limb, but Dianne
wouldn’t let go.  He exhaled a sigh and repositioned his stance to gain some
traction against her emotional assault.

“I
hate
…myself. 
My children…
hate
me.  My husband…h
ates
me.  I’ve ruined
everyone’s lives…and I almost…
killed
…innocent people tonight.”  Dianne’s
open-mouthed sobbed into Drazek’s arm. 

He continued to pat her
– awkwardly and without any particular cadence – but nicely all the same.  He
even threw a “shhh” in there. 

“Those pills and that
vodka run my life!  I am so…tired…of it all!”  She took a shuddering breath. 
“I wish I was…
dead
.  I want to
die
!”

Shit.

Stella placed a quick
call to the house psychiatrist and arranged for a sitter.  She returned to Exam
Room 3 to find Drazek washing his hands as Dianne snored loudly from the bed. 
When he turned and met her eyes, Stella gestured for him to follow her out of
the room. 

  Once on the other
side of the curtain, Stella said, “Let’s talk outside.  I need some air.”  She
didn’t wait for his response, taking off for an exit door in the back of the
ER.  Stella slammed the metal door handle thing with both hands and stepped
outside. 

The night was cool, but
summery.  Stella made a beeline for the pack of cigarettes and purple Bic
lighter hidden beneath an Expedia gnome someone had brought in as a joke.  But
the cigarette stash was no joke.  The ER staff kept that thing stocked up no
matter what.  Small cell carcinoma, be damned.

Stella cupped the
cigarette with one hand and flicked the Bic with the other.  She took a long,
hard drag on the cigarette and tilted her head back to release carcinogens into
the clear June night sky. 

She yelped when the
cigarette was yanked from her lips during her second drag.

Stella watched,
slack-jawed, as Officer Drazek snubbed the cigarette out on the bottom of his
huge black shoe and tossed the butt into a bucket by the door.  He turned to
face her and crossed his massive arms over his chest.  “It is against the law
to smoke on hospital grounds.”

“Are you kidding me
right now?”  Stella grabbed another cigarette from the stash, lit it, and took
a long drag.  She met Drazek’s narrowed eyes as she exhaled.  “My little sister
got roughed up, I almost got arrested, I have a suicidal patient, and I’m
working a twelve hour shift.”  Stella took another drag and flicked a long
ash.  “It’s either smoke this cigarette or lose my ever-loving mind.”

He grabbed the second
cigarette, put it out, and threw it into the bucket.  Next he confiscated the
package and shoved it into a pocket in his jacket. 

“It is against the law
to smoke on hospital grounds.  Period.”  The arms crossed back over his chest. 
“And it’s a bad habit.  You’re a nurse.  You should know better.”

He was right, but that
was beside the point.  Fortunately for Drazek, Stella was too tired and too
freaked out to fight about how she was a disappointment to the nursing
profession.  She slumped into a lawn chair the staff kept out there to use as they
gleefully disregarded the laws of the land.

She propped her elbows
on her knees and her chin in her hands.  “Okay, fine, you win, Sergeant
Stickler.”  The way his brow quirked set off a few butterflies in her stomach. 
“So, what are you going to do with my patient?”

“She’ll be arrested for
driving while intoxicated and/or impaired once the blood work comes back.”  He
shifted his weight to his heels then rocked forward.  One shoulder lifted. 
“Then it’s up to the judge what happens to her.  This isn’t her first offense –
no where close – so I’m guessing he or she is going to throw the book at her.”

Stella sighed, twisting
her mother’s ring around and around her right hand middle finger.  “I hate to
see her go to jail, but maybe that’s what she needs.  Rehab hasn’t worked the
dozens of times she’s gone.  Maybe spending a little while away from it all
will do the trick.  I hope so, anyway.  She’s a nice lady deep down.  It’s just
this addiction has such a hold on her, you know?”

Officer Drazek was as
reactive as the Expedia gnome.  Actually, the gnome was more expressive.

She exhaled a short
laugh, eyes rolling.  “But I guess you probably want to throw her in jail. 
Law-breaking and all that, right?”

“She is the absolute
last type of person I would want to incarcerate.” 

Stella reared back. 
“Why is that?”

“Because my mother was
an alcoholic and drug abuser.  Jail wouldn’t have done her a bit of good and it
won’t do that woman in there any good either.”

If Stella was shocked,
Drazek looked downright appalled. 

Stella blurted out,
“Are you married?” 

Now he looked appalled
and
horrified. 

Well, take a number.

Drazek wordlessly
re-entered the hospital, leaving Stella sitting there embarrassed, intrigued,
and unsettlingly tingly.  

That guy was an enigma
wrapped in a riddle.  And he hadn’t been wearing a wedding band, which didn’t
matter because Stella wasn’t looking for anything – and definitely not
something with a police officer.  She hadn’t enjoyed her first visit to Cop
Town and wasn’t ever going back.

Stella gazed longingly
at the gnome and cursed Drazek.

Oh, but…

Stella slowly unfurled
her right hand and saw a beacon of hope:  sweaty and rusty, but lovely all the
same.

The little purple
Bic lighter.

She re-confiscated her
cigarette butt from the bucket and lit up. The back door flew open and Drazek
stuck his head out; eyes narrowing when he saw the crinkled butt between her
lips. 

Stella threw her hands
up. “Dear God!  Fine!  You win!”

Stella dropped the
butt, smashed it out, and headed for the door. 

“Please don’t litter,”
he said. 

In all seriousness.
Standing as still as the black figure tossing trash into a can on a “No
Littering” sign.

Stella looked from him
to the butt back to him.  His expression didn’t change as he waited expectantly
and patiently for her to do her civic duty.

Stella laughed out
loud.  She couldn’t help it.  He was just so ridiculous. 

“Only so you can sleep
tonight...”  Stella disposed of it (in the probably illegal bucket by the back
door) and brushed past him into the hospital. 

She didn’t care he
smelled like soap and Old Spice and mint.  She didn’t care that he was hot and
intriguing and had big, strong hands.  Or that he was not exactly what she’d
imagined him to be.  Or that her body had never reacted this way to any man
before.

All of no consequence
to her.  She had a lot bigger fish to fry than a hot, anal-retentive cop with
sad eyes.

Stella waved off
Christopher’s concerned look as she walked past the nurses’ station.  Suddenly,
paramedics busted through the back doors with a mangled body on a stretcher and
the ER lit up.  Stella turned her attention to the trauma and gave it her all,
but she couldn’t help but admire Drazek’s efficient, purposeful strides as he
left the ER.

And his perfect butt.

By the time she
wrapped up her shift, drove home, and finally crawled into bed, Stella had
analyzed the entire interaction to death.  Officer Drazek had been adorable,
compassionate, and anal retentive.  He’d smelled like heaven, had the body of
an Adonis, and was sporting a whole lot of pain behind those eyes. 

A recipe for
absolute disaster, if ever there was one.

Stella thrashed
around, kicking the covers off and then pulling them back on.  She punched
pillow, flipped, and folded the pillow before resting her head.

He hadn’t confirmed
or denied being married.  He could have a girlfriend.  He could be gay,
although she seriously doubted it.  Although that would explain the painful
look on his face when she’d asked about his marital status.

Stella buried her
face in the pillow, groaned, and hoped like hell that was the last she’d see of
that guy.  Because if he wasn’t involved, married, or gay, he was gonna be
trouble.  No doubt about it.

Chapter
Five

“What’s up with you,
D?  You’ve been acting weird all week.  You getting sick or something?”  Danny
tossed a wild free throw, cursing when it bounced off the rusted rim at a
neighborhood court near the station. His hands rested on his hips, head
shaking. “I suck.  Seriously suck.”

“Nah, you’re just
getting old.”  Nathan tossed his own wild free throw toward the net.  When it
went in, he grinned over his shoulder.

Middle finger salute
given and received, Danny retrieved both balls and tossed Nathan his.  “So,
what’s the story?  You coming down with something?”

Nathan calculated his response
as he dribbled the ball.  All he managed to come up with was, “I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t. Fine. 
At all.  He was all twisted up and weirded out.  But that wasn’t Danny’s
problem, so why burden him with it?  Plus, Nathan knew he couldn’t explain what
he was feeling even if he tried. 

“You sure?  You’ve been
quieter than usual, which means you’ve been almost mute,” Danny said with an
affection clap on the shoulder.  “No war shit coming back up, right?  You doing
okay with that?”