A Fallen Heart (8 page)

“Pretty sure Caleb and Rob would both annihilate that challenge.”

“Probably,” Ford agreed. Caleb was a massive man and able to put away more food than anyone, while Rob had a habit of eating foods that probably wouldn’t have a chance at passing muster with the FDA.

“Call me, then, and we’ll set something up,” Nash said.

Once more, the unwelcome urge to ask Nash to stay with him almost grabbed hold. It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep those thoughts to himself. Instead Ford programmed Nash’s number into his phone before he opened the door and stepped out onto the street. He leaned back in to see Nash looking at him, all warm eyes and easy smile.

“I will. I’m on nights for the next two, and then I should have two days off before the next rotation starts.”

“Plenty of time to get into all sorts of trouble.”

“Hey, Nash?” Ford asked, hating the hitch in his voice as he said his name.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For everything.” It seemed almost too dramatic, but he was more grateful than he could have expressed. When he’d left work, he’d been on course to head home and wallow in misery, but breakfast out and talking about nothing had distracted him and kept him from becoming too maudlin. It was nice.

“You are very welcome,” Nash replied.

Ford gave him a little wave as he drove away, then headed upstairs to find his bed.

“FORD!” MADDY’S
happy cry echoed in the quiet room as Ford pushed open the second card-secured door and stepped into Saint Joe’s emergency psych unit.

“Heya, gorgeous,” Ford replied, letting the surprise show on his face and rounding the desk to wrap his arms around her in a tight hug. They’d met their first day in nursing school, thrown together for group introductions. Her tiny stature seemed too small to contain all that bubbly personality. The fact that she was working in the psych unit was surprising. He’d seen her more as the pediatric or maternity type, but he supposed in a place where a good number of the people wanted to end their lives, a little brightness was what the world needed.

“Why didn’t I know you were working here?” Ford asked, stepping back to look at her. They’d been close through school, but being hired at different hospitals in different cities meant they’d drifted, geography more to blame than anything else.

“It’s my first week,” she said. “I just transferred in from the ICU at Eagle Ridge.”

“Their loss,” Ford said conspiratorially. “How are you liking it here so far?”

“The clientele is a little different, but overall it’s not too much of a change. All the staff has been incredibly nice.”

“The Saint Joe’s family is pretty tight. I’m so happy you’re here. It’s been way too long since we hung out.”

“It has,” she agreed. “I’m assuming you weren’t popping by to say hello. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I was wondering if the kid is still here… Joel? He was brought in last night. He came into the ER and transferred here before the end of my shift. I wasn’t sure if they’d transferred him out yet.”

“I just got here, so I’m not sure. I’ll ask. Helen’s been here all night. Hey, Helen,” she called to a woman who was deeply entrenched in whatever she was doing on the computer in the office adjacent to the main room.

Helen strolled into the nurses’ station, her pale purple scrub pants swishing as she walked. “What’s up?”

“Did we get a kid in last night?” Maddy asked.

“Name?” Helen scanned the binders set up in a row on the shelf behind them, hospital labels stuck to the spines.

“I only have a first name. Joel. When they brought him through the ER, he wouldn’t say much. He was brought here to detox.”

“Ah yes. He’s in room two,” Helen said, pulling his chart and opening it up. “Looks like he’s through the worst of it. Judging from the timeline, he’d started into withdrawals sometime before he arrived. The acute symptoms had already started by the time he was brought here.”

Ford bit his lip. The memory of Joel succumbing to the physical ramifications of his addiction was seared into his mind.

“You want to see him?”

“Yeah, if I could. I wanted to check on him. He seemed pretty scared last night.”

“No problem. If more nurses cared as much about their patients as you do, the hospital would be a much healthier place.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ford said. It came from a place of honesty, not modesty. Most patients didn’t hit him the way this kid had. Lately the constant stream of familiar faces through the ER had him feeling frustrated. The first time he’d saved a junkie’s life, only to have him pushed back through the same doors the following night, had been a slap in the face. Now it was maddening. There were only so many times he could be told to fuck off or screamed at for trying to help before it began to wear him down.

Maybe it was because Joel looked so much like Aaron had when he was a kid, or maybe it was his age, but whatever it was, Ford felt like this was a different situation. Making sure he was all right was important to Ford.

He thanked Helen and Maddy again and stepped past them to the hallway of doors that branched off the main room. Room two was on the left, just past the locked supply room. The door was solid and shut, but there was a window at eye level, which allowed Ford to see through to the sleeping form inside.

Joel was curled up on the cot, blankets tucked tightly around him. Even from the doorway, Ford could tell his color was more pink now than gray. He was clean and resting peacefully. The stark look of terror was missing from his face, and Ford felt a swell of relief that he seemed to be doing better.

He backed away and returned to the nurses’ station.

“He’s sleeping,” Ford said.

Helen looked up from her computer screen. “He’s been sleeping most of the day. He woke up for a few minutes to have some toast but was out like a light soon after. I thought for certain he would have been awake by now. The police stopped by earlier and have been calling every few hours since. They want to talk to him, but he still hasn’t said anything. Diana came to visit him, but she couldn’t get him talking either.”

Ford wasn’t surprised. He hoped Joel felt comfortable enough to talk sooner rather than later, and not only to help the cops with their investigation. Joel desperately needed psychological help to work through what he’d experienced. Without speech it would be more difficult to help him.

“If it’s okay, I’ll try back later,” Ford said.

“Definitely. I’ll be here all night.”

“AH, JOSEPH.
Just the man I was looking for,” Hugh Greene, administrator and general pain in Ford’s ass, said as Ford walked toward the ER.

“Hello, Mr. Greene,” Ford said, the faux politeness dripping from his words.

When Ford’s alarm went off at 4:00 p.m., he’d forced himself out of bed and thrown himself into the coldest shower he could handle in the hopes that he would be somewhat conscious by the time he made it to Saint Joe’s. He hadn’t been as successful as he would have liked, and an ambush by Greene was exactly what he needed to start his day off right.

“I wanted to have a word with you about our quarterly budget.”

“I don’t run the ER, Mr. Greene. I only work there. If you want to talk numbers, you’re going to need to discuss them with Susan.”

“Well, yes, of course. I have. But in the last month, we’ve been auditing resource usage in your department—”

“Susan’s department,” Ford reminded him.

“Yes. Susan’s department. In any case, we’ve applied several algorithms to determine where the hemorrhages are taking place.”

Ford glanced at the clock. There were fewer than five minutes until his shift started.

“Mr. Greene, if you have something you need to say, I would appreciate you saying it quickly. I have charts to review.”

“Oh, yes. Right. Joseph, we’ve discovered that you’re using more resources than anyone else in your department.”

“And?” Ford asked petulantly. He knew he sounded rude, but frankly, office people like Greene had no idea what life was like on the front lines in a hospital. Ford was exceptionally good at his job, and never had he squandered what meager resources were provided to him. It was difficult enough as it was to save lives with Greene cutting as many corners as he did.

“And I’d like to meet with you to discuss how to better streamline your use of hospital supplies.”

Ford bit his tongue before he told Greene exactly what to do with his hospital supplies. He had a pair of forceps sitting in a cabinet he thought he could get pretty creative with.

“According to the audit, am I wasting resources? Mismanaging them? Am I taking supplies home for personal use?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then if you’ll excuse me, I have patients who need me.”

“Yes. Right. Fine. Go ahead, but tonight, please be mindful of the costs you’re incurring with each of them.”

“You mean you want me to see dollar signs and deficits instead of people hurt and dying? Is that what you’d like me to do tonight?” There was only so much Ford could take before he snapped, and Greene had to talk to him on a day when he’d had much less sleep than he needed.

Greene’s eyes narrowed, his chubby face becoming sweaty and mottled as his lips drew tight. “We will discuss this later, Joseph.”

“I look forward to it. Have a good evening, Mr. Greene.” Ford breezed past him to the nurses’ station, where Amanda and Lissa were huddled together over a file.

“What did he want?” Amanda asked as Ford approached.

“To discuss my use of hospital resources.” Ford relayed what Greene had said, feeling a little jolt of affection for the women as their expressions turned to mirrored disgust.

“Maybe you use more resources because you work more than anyone else in the department. Your hours are insane. Did they take that into account?” Lissa protested.

“No idea how it was all calculated. I don’t give a fuck about the budget, and I never will. If it’s going to cost an extra hundred, thousand, whatever to save someone’s life, so be it, and assholes like Greene, who put a price tag on people, make me angrier than anything.”

“Forget him for now. He doesn’t matter. They’re not going to fire you for doing your job.”

Ford sighed. She was right. In the grand scheme of things, Greene didn’t matter.

“How’s the tracker looking?” Ford changed the subject and pulled the screen up on his computer that showed the list of patients, complete with all the information needed to quickly orient himself.

“Busy,” Amanda said.

“When isn’t it?” Lissa chimed in.

“Excuse me?”

Ford looked up to see a woman standing at the desk, waiting expectantly.

“What can I do for you?”

“My mother is in bed six. Can she have something to drink? She says her throat feels dry.”

“I’ll grab her some water,” Amanda offered.

THE NEXT
time Ford looked at the clock, it was well past the time when he should have taken a break. They’d been flooded with people, and a multivehicle accident nearby meant the trauma bay had seen its share of carnage that evening. Ford had been so caught up in everything going on, he’d forgotten to stop. His stomach rumbled, since the last time he’d eaten had been when he’d shoved some Chinese food, leftover from God only knew when, into his mouth before heading out the door.

“I’m going to grab something to eat,” he said to Amanda the next time there was a lull in registrations.

“Bon appétit!” she replied.

Ford trudged to the staff room. It was empty, as usual. Dismal walls and institutional furniture meant that most people chose to leave the hospital for meals. The quiet of the room made his ears ring, and all at once, he realized how tired he was.

Ford opened the fridge and tried to decide between nuking a sweet-and-sour chicken Lean Cuisine he knew he’d left in the freezer sometime last January during an ill-fated healthy-living resolution, or a pack of Cheese Nips and a half bottle of apple juice left over from his shift the week before. Neither seemed particularly appetizing, but his stomach was rumbling consistently, and crackers and some likely expired juice was not going to cut it.

“Sweet-and-sour chicken it is,” he grumbled, opening the freezer and reaching in for what promised to be a soggy and mostly tasteless freezer-burned dinner.

“Ford,” Amanda called from the door.

She looked at him with an expression of disgust on her face as he pulled the box out.

“Do not eat that. It has enough frost on it that you could build your own snowman. Throw it away. Nash is here. And he brought pizza.”

Ford tossed the microwave meal into the garbage on the way out of the room.

He followed Amanda back to the nurses’ station where Nash was leaning against the desk, legs crossed at the ankles, talking to Lissa. Ford’s stomach lurched seeing him, dressed casually in jeans, sneakers, and a plain white T-shirt. What was it about Nash that made a simple white tee look so fucking appealing? He was so goddamn
pure
, like the boy next door, but so much more tempting. Suddenly Ford regretted not asking Nash upstairs when he’d driven him home. Fantasies of being alone with him took hold but were quickly chased away. Ford chastised himself for allowing the thoughts to enter his mind.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I thought I’d take advantage of my night off to curry favor with my favorite nurses. You know how much easier my job is when the nurses like me?”

“You have nothing better to do with your night off than to bring us pizza?”

“Well, Adam and Sam are hanging out tonight.”

“I don’t think it’s called ‘hanging out’ when they live together,” Ford pointed out.

“Whatever. Adam and Sam are spending quality couple time together. Caleb is having dinner with his family, and apparently Rob is wining and dining a new girl he met online.”

“You don’t have any other friends?” Ford asked and immediately regretted it. For someone who liked to spend all his time with people, he certainly could be socially inept. The things that came out of his mouth sometimes made him wonder why anyone wanted to spend time with him.