Healing Hearts. Syndi Powell

Healing Hearts - Syndi  Powell


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doubted that they would make it a priority if Antonio had a tryout scheduled at the same time. “What if I order these tests, and you stop interfering with my job?”

      “He’s my job, too. My client.”

      “And he’s my patient. Now, why don’t you go to the cafeteria and get a coffee while I take care of Antonio?” She glanced down at his buzzing phone. The sound was annoying. “Or better yet, take your phone to the parking lot and look after your business so I can look after mine.”

      The agent bristled, but put his phone to his ear and stalked away. April seized a deep cleansing breath to center herself and focus again on Antonio. Now she pushed the curtain aside. “Okay, then. I’m ordering an echocardiogram to get a better picture of what’s happening with your heart.”

      Antonio’s face paled. “Doc, be straight. Is it bad? Am I going to die? Is my football career over already?”

      “Let’s see the results of the tests first, then I’ll have a cardiologist take a look at you, too.” She put a hand on his knee. “If it’s what I suspect it is, with treatment and observation, you’ll still have a long life.”

      He gave a nod, then cocked his head to the side. “And football?”

      “You can still have that, too.” She made more notes on his chart. “But let’s wait and find out what the tests say.”

      She sent him a reassuring smile and stepped beyond the curtain. As she did so, a man grabbed her and put a knife to her throat. “Where’s the drug closet?”

      Great. It was going to be one of those days.

      * * *

      ZACH HARRISON FINISHED his last phone call and glanced back at the entrance to the emergency room. Coach Petrullo had called to check on Antonio’s condition. “The overzealous doctor is running tests, but Antonio will be on the field good as new tomorrow,” he’d assured the man. He only hoped he hadn’t overstated the truth. The kid had to be okay. He was young and active. His football career was about to begin. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to take it away. Right?

      Zach slipped his phone into his suit coat pocket and walked through the open automatic doors. He needed Antonio in action, but he needed the kid healthy even more. He regretted how callous he’d probably come across to Dr. Sprader earlier. He’d noticed how she’d barely kept her contempt under wraps, and he wanted to go back in time and change that. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He could be nice. A sweetheart, even. Though he’d been accused of using that to his advantage, rather than being sincere.

      Shaking off all thoughts of his ex-wife, he practiced what he was going to say to the cute doctor and headed toward where Antonio waited. He saw the doc talking to another patient, a man who seemed to be standing too close to her. Zach paused and assessed the situation. Not only was the guy standing too close, the knife in his hand meant he was a threat. Zach couldn’t spot the security guard he’d seen earlier in the hallways. He knew what he had to do. He’d had self-defense training for situations like this.

      He sauntered up to the curtained area. The patient noted him and waved the knife. “Stop. Or I’ll slice her throat. I swear I will.”

      Zach held up his hands. “I’m not going to stop you. I’m only here for my client.” He pointed to Antonio, who watched with wide eyes. He looked as if he were ready to jump off the bed and pummel the guy. Zach waved him off. “Why don’t you tell us what you want?”

      The grizzled man wore clothes that smelled as if they hadn’t been washed in weeks. “I want to stop the pain.”

      Dr. Sprader struggled in the guy’s arms. “I told you last time that you don’t need the drugs, Harley.”

      So the good doctor knew the man. Probably had a history of coming into the ER. Zach saw how Harley’s grip on the knife was loosening the more they talked. His knuckles were no longer white from strain. Instead, he flexed his fingers on the handle. If Zach could keep them talking, maybe he could disarm the guy.

      “Harley.” The man turned to look at Zach. “What kind of drugs will help you? Maybe if you tell me, then I can go get them.”

      The doctor’s eyes flared with emotion, probably anger and even shock. Harley licked his lips. “Oxy works best. Takes the edge off.”

      Antonio shifted in the bed, drawing Harley’s attention to him. And as that happened, Zach rushed forward and did a roundhouse kick to knock the knife out of the guy’s hand and send it skittering across the floor. Dr. Sprader used the man’s shock to grab his arm and twist it behind his back. She pushed him facedown onto the hospital bed. “Go get security,” she told Zach.

      He nodded and ran to the front desk. When he returned, he saw that Dr. Sprader had help from a few nurses to keep the man subdued. The security guard came and took the guy away. Zach hurried to Antonio’s side. “Are you okay?”

      “Where did you learn a kick like that?”

      Zach gave a shrug. “High school. I was a puny kid with a target on my back. Had to learn how to protect myself, so Pops took me to self-defense classes.” He looked over at Dr. Sprader. “How about you? Are you okay?”

      She gave a short nod as she reached up to touch the side of her neck. A small trickle of blood had stained the neckline of her pastel blue scrubs. She seemed to be barely containing what he figured was disgust. “Thanks for the assist.”

      Obviously, his heroics hadn’t changed her first impression of him. “Any time.” He turned to Antonio. “Let’s start those tests and we’ll find out what’s going on with you, so that we can get out of here.”

      * * *

      PAGE KOSINSKI, APRIL’S best friend, found her sitting on the floor of the women’s restroom. April had hoped that she would have a few more moments of refuge before resuming her duties. Just another five minutes alone would have been great. Instead, she looked at Page, who had squatted down beside her and was checking the cut on her neck from Harley. “I told you that you needed to report him the last time he came here looking for drugs.”

      April slapped her friend’s hand away. “It’s no big deal. I’m fine. Harley got arrested and can now get the help he needs.”

      “But what if that guy hadn’t been around to save your butt? What if Harley had really hurt you this time?” Page took a seat on the floor next to her. “You give people too many chances. When are you going to start putting yourself first?”

      “Don’t you think I’ve been sitting here asking myself the same thing?” She paused and asked Page, “Did you get a glance at my hero?”

      Page waggled her eyebrows and waved her hand in front of her face. “Hot.”

      “He’s also arrogant and too sure of himself.” April winced as she got to her feet and stretched. “What am I doing here, anyway?”

      “Working your shift like you always do.”

      April nodded. “Exactly. I told myself that when I defeated cancer, I would change. That I would go out there and do everything I’ve always wanted to.” She held her hands out to her sides. “And what have I done? I’m back to working extra shifts and sleeping in the on-call room instead of going home. And why? Because it’s more convenient to just stay here. I can’t keep doing this.”

      “I’ve been telling you that for months.” Page rose to her feet and washed her hands in the sink. She tugged a few paper towels from the dispenser and dried her fingers. She crushed the towels into a ball and tossed them in the trash can. “So what are you going to do?”

      April peered into the mirror and stared at her reflection. She ran a hand through her curly hair. Before breast cancer had taken away her hair, it had been thin, straight and whitish blond. Now that it had grown back, it was honey-colored, coarse and curly. Sometimes she looked at herself and wondered where the woman she’d once been had gone, not just physically, but emotionally, as well.


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