“Fuck, fuck…fuck!”
Desi Thompson Simoneaux watched her husband Byron run his hand through his greasy blond hair and mutter some more. He’d been in a mood from the time he’d come home after losing at the casino—again. When he needed to vent, she was always his favorite target. Normally she braced for it and managed to hold it together until he was done.
This time, after his fist connected with her temple, her scream had made one of their neighbors call the police.
She pressed her fingers to her split lip, but the blood trickled through. The number of cops outside had increased when he’d refused to open the door, and the backup that showed up only enraged him more. Their front yard was lit up with blue flashing lights. “Please, Byron, you need to let them in. You know I didn’t call them, and I won’t say anything.” She just wanted this to stop.
“I told you to shut up.” He slapped his forehead as he screamed, and Desi thought he’d finally snapped. The thought made her shudder.
Maybe this nightmare would finally be over. Byron glared at her as if just noticing her, and she brought her hands up to protect her face as he moved toward her. The sudden shock of pain made her cry out, and her legs buckled. Byron had kicked right below her left knee, and she had no doubt her leg was broken.
She was going to be sick from the excruciating pain, and all she could do was concentrate on her breathing. There was no holding back her cry when he followed with three kicks to her midsection and ribs, and she stopped breathing when the pain became excruciating. The attack stopped while he walked to the door.
“No, please,” she begged, when she realized he’d gone for the baseball bat propped against the doorframe, but doubted he could hear her over his swearing. The door splintered and crashed open, and two police officers tackled Byron before he could swing at her head. It was a shock he hadn’t finished what he’d started. He’d always promised he’d gladly do the time if he knew she was in the ground by his hand.
“Ma’am, can you hear me?” One EMT knelt beside her and started cutting her jeans to expose her leg while the other began hooking her up to machines. That one placed an oxygen mask over her face. “That will help with the pain while we do what we need to do, and I’m going to check your other injuries. Just stay calm and hold still, okay?”
“Don’t say a goddamn word, Desi. You hear me?” Byron was still yelling as he struggled with the police. “Not one fucking word.”
“Why don’t you give it a rest, asshole,” the police officer cuffing Byron said. “Go with that right to remain silent thing we told you about.”
“Ma’am, can you hear me?” the EMT repeated.
“It hurts,” was all she was able to say. His voice sounded far away, and all she could hear was the pounding thud-thud in her head.
“I know, but we’re here to help.” He shined a light in her eyes. “Let’s get a blanket on her and up the O2. She’s going into shock.”
Desi closed her eyes and prayed to die for the first time in her life. If she had to stay trapped in this hell, going on wasn’t worth it. Perhaps the worst thing that could’ve happened was the police getting there too early and not letting Byron send her into oblivion. She closed her eyes and let the tears fall. How had life gotten so bad?
* * *
“We need a room, Sally!” the EMT yelled, slamming through the metal doors of University Medical Center in New Orleans as he and his partner ran in with a stretcher.
“Follow me.” Sally, the charge nurse, moved quickly ahead of them.
All Dr. Harry Basantes could see from where she stood, scanning the large board that listed all the patients in the ER, was the blond hair of whoever was moaning on the gurney. Whatever had happened, the sickly green colored sheet the EMTs used was slowly turning red. She stayed out of their way, waiting for the crew to get the patient settled.
“Get a doc in here. We didn’t want to medicate her, figuring she was going be worked up for surgery, but she’s fading fast.” The other EMT held an IV bag as high as he could get it. “I’ve done this for a long time and seen some sick stuff, but this one is going to haunt me for a while,” he said after they’d worked together to slide her over to the hospital bed.
“What the hell happened?” Sally asked as she slammed her hand on the button on the wall above the bed to call for more staff. “Car accident?”
“Not that I wish an accident on anyone, but it might be easier for her to recover from if that’s what this was. We waited an hour outside this shithole of a place while the police got her asshole husband away from her,” the EMT said as the triage nurses moved from the next bay to take over. “He was about to hit her in the head with a bat, but I think the leg damage is from his steel-toed boots. I’d guess her face is thanks to his fist.”
The EMT stepped aside to let a nurse in. “The skin is pierced just below the knee, and she’s been getting quieter and paler. Probably shock.”
“Poor darlin’, but we’re in luck. God just finished up in the OR. I paged her when y’all called in,” Sally said. “She looks like my daughter Mindy,” she said, looking at the woman on the bed.
“Dr. Basantes is available?”
“Today is her surgery rotation here, and if anyone in my family got hurt like this, there isn’t anyone I’d trust other than Harry.”
Harry was waiting for the crew to finish settling the patient. Hearing Sally’s assessment made her warm. It was good when people knew you were the best. She motioned her residents to stay put and stopped directly behind Sally. “Taking my name in vain again, Nurse Hardass?” Harry whispered in Sally’s ear, making her shoulders hitch.
“Doc, I was comparing you to God—how can you take that wrong?” Sally turned and gave Harry her best smile. “Besides, you know damn well I’m the only one in the building who’s not afraid of you, so cut the bull and get in here.”
“Let’s see what we’ve got, folks,” she said to her students.
Her attention went directly to the patient’s injuries, and the noise and chaos of the ER faded away as she concentrated on what needed to be done. “Get the mobile X-ray unit in here, order a blood workup, and get her to surgery as soon as you’re done,” she said as she scribbled in the chart Sally had placed on the small table next to the bed. “No dawdling, people,” she barked when her team didn’t move fast enough.
“Ma’am,” Harry said, finally glancing up at her new patient. When she looked at the tearstained face and watery green eyes, memories of high school came flooding back, and she clutched the side of the bed to regain her mental balance. “Desi?” She said the name like a prayer.
“Harry?” Desi wiped her face, her hand shaking, and an expression of surprise seemed to replace the pain, if only for a second. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m the surgeon on call,” Harry said, trying her best to bleed the emotion out of her voice. There’d been plenty of time through the years for touching reunions, so they weren’t going to waste time on that now. “You have an open fracture just below the knee, and it will require surgery. I’ll know more once I see your X-rays.” Once the fracture’s reduced, you can walk out the door like you did a very long time ago, only this time it won’t matter. She shook off the thought and tried to keep her expression impassive.
“Harry, please—” Desi said, but Harry raised her hand.
“I’ve ordered something for the pain, and once I get a look at your films we’ll talk about the next steps.” Harry placed the chart under her arm and waited to see if Desi had any questions.
“You’re a surgeon?” Desi’s eyebrows came together in apparent confusion, and the sweat on her brow prompted Harry to inject the painkiller into the IV line.
“Actually, I’m the janitor, but we’re a little shorthanded at the moment, so the state expects everyone to pitch in.” Harry laughed bitterly, but Desi didn’t join in. “Look, if you want someone else, it won’t hurt my feelings. Say the word.” The radiology tech arrived and started setting up. “I’ll be back once he’s done.”
Harry walked out, not giving Desi the chance to respond. She ran her hand through her hair, and then grunted at the return of her old childhood habit. Sally stared at her, then at her hand, but didn’t say anything as Harry leaned on the counter to finish writing out orders for Desi’s care.
The sight of her old friend had been a punch to the gut, and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get someone else to take her case. They had a history she’d tried to bury, but it was something that refused to die or be forgotten. Why the fuck couldn’t she just forget her and move on?
“You okay?” Sally asked softly.
“Fine—let’s go with that.”
She hadn’t said the name Desi out loud in years, but damn if she didn’t find at least a minute of every day to think about her. It was doubtful Desi had given her and what they’d had together a second thought since those caps went flying into the air at graduation. How on earth had Desi ended up in this kind of mess?
“It’s not often that we see the legendary Dr. Basantes in the ER with the huddled masses. What gives, Harriet?” Dr. Kenneth Reynolds asked, startling Harry out of her memories. He drummed his fingers on the countertop and laughed when she glared at him.
Kenneth was one of the few people she’d kept in her life since childhood, and the chief of pediatrics was her best friend. The nurses had nicknamed them the dynamic duo when they’d started their residencies, and for a long time the rumor had been that there was a romance to go with the friendship they obviously shared.
“Don’t call me that, or I’ll tell Sally what Tony calls you when you’re at home. Got me, sugar pants?” Harry rubbed her temples and sighed.
“Okay, no need for bitchy.” He put his hands on her shoulders and laughed. “Sounds like you’ve had a bad day. Does someone have their leg coming out of their ass or something? It’d take something that drastic to lure you down here with the little people. Usually your eager minions bring the patients to you.” He didn’t take his hand off her shoulder, and she could tell he was worried about her despite his teasing. “I thought your days of trolling the ER for interesting cases were over years ago.”
“Did you learn that diagnostic technique in medical school? For your information I’m not that out of touch, and I was paged. No trolling involved.” She handed the chart off to the waiting nurse. “This time, though, I should’ve left at lunch and started cultivating a gambling habit. You aren’t going to believe who’s lying behind curtain number three.”
“Do I win a new washing machine if I guess right? Old Betsy is about to call it quits. I’ve had that washer since we were in college,” Kenneth said wistfully as if he’d momentarily forgotten what they were talking about.
“If I bought you a new washer would you shut up?”
“Don’t think I won’t take you up on that. Those front loaders are damn expensive.” He took a rubber duck out of his lab coat pocket and squeezed it a few times. “Whoever it is must be freaking you out since I can never sneak up on you. Wait, it’s not your stalker from a few years ago, is it?”
“Please, don’t jinx me by mentioning that crazy ass. No, it’s Desi Thompson. Of all the places in this city I could’ve run into her again, it’s here.”
“Is she visiting a friend, or is it something else?”
Harry thought of what she’d read in the file. “Broken leg and, from the look of her, probably some other things.” She glanced back at the triage bay and fought the urge to call one of her partners to handle this.
“She’s in luck then. You’re good with broken bones, unless you forgot to pay the club dues and they’ve taken away your scalpel and special decoder ring.”
“Cut the shit for a minute, will you? I’m bigger than you, so I can make that leg-out-of-your-ass thing a reality.”
“You want me to go home and pick up Tony?” Kenneth asked, referring to his partner of fifteen years. “He’s better equipped to deal with stuff like this. My forte is runny noses and nasty scrapes suffered on the playground. Major drama is more a Tony thing.”
“I’m fine,” Harry said, trying to convince herself. “She’ll most likely want someone else to do this. We both know she overwhelmingly proved she doesn’t need or want me for anything.”
“Just go in there and do your job, pal, and when you’re done, I’ll take you home and treat you to a home-cooked meal. You know Tony’s red fish stew is to die for, and he’s been chopping stuff since early this morning. Pretend she’s one of the hundreds of nameless faces who walk in here every day, and put those memories of yours back in the box.”
“That’s your advice?”
As she asked, a patient with an ear hanging by a small piece of cartilage was wheeled past them into the bay next to Desi’s.
“That proves my point. Just another typical day in the ER in the great city of New Orleans,” Kenneth said and slapped her on the back. “Just do your job, Harry, and the rest will stay buried if you let it.”
“That, buddy, is easier said than done.” She was an idiot for still having feelings about this shit in the first place. She’d learned from Desi that giving too much of yourself only ended in pain. It was a lesson she’d never forget.