Life to My Flight Read online

  It was only a matter of time, unfortunately.

  It just broke my heart that she was having to go through this and her family was having to witness it.

  “You there, baby?” Cleo rasped.

  I closed my eyes and envisioned his arms around me. “Yeah, I’m here. It’s been a bad day.”

  He chuckled lightly. “It’s only been less than an hour.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Hey, Rue. You have a patient in four that’s on the call light for the fifth time.” Johnathan, one of the two male nurses that worked in the ER during my shift, said.

  Johnathan was pretty awesome.

  He reminded me of Stone Cold Steve Austin, the wrestler who’d been my idol growing up.

  He had a shaved head, big, beefy biceps, and a temper that could rival a psychopath when it called for it.

  He never put up with bullshit, and he always had our backs when we needed him.

  He was ex-military, and had zero tolerance when it came to patients badmouthing his ‘girls.’

  “Cleo,” I said standing up and putting the chart I was looking at back where it went. “I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you when you pick me up, okay?”

  Cleo made a understanding sound and said, “Got it. Love you.”

  I blinked rapidly as the sound of the dial tone rang in my ear. He didn’t say it that often. Only every now and then, and only when I least expected it.

  So when I did get graced with hearing those words, I cherished them.

  Walking away from the nurse’s station with a pep in my step, I came into the room of one Mr. Bowen Bloodsworth, and had to hold back the grimace that threatened to overtake my face.

  The guy looked downright gross.

  It was more than obvious that he hadn’t had a bath in a while, and to add insult to injury, he gave me the creeps.

  “How can I help you, Mr. Bloodsworth?” I asked him as I barely breached the inside of the door.

  I wasn’t comfortable going that close to him.

  Not only did he smell horrible, but he was obviously juicin’ on some drug of choice, and I didn’t want to be close to him when he heard what I had to tell him next.

  “I’m hurtin’ doc,” he groaned.

  I rolled my eyes. I’d told him I wasn’t a doctor nearly ten times now.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Bloodsworth. What’s your pain on a scale of 1-10?” I asked.

  Earlier he’d said it was a seventy two. I’d bet now was going to be even worse.

  “At least an eighty,” he groaned pitifully.

  My left eye started to tick. “Did the medicine you were given not touch the pain at all?” I asked tiredly.

  He shook his head. “No, doc. Not at all. I told you those drugs wouldn’t work on me. Only Dilaudid and Morphine work. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, hydrocodone’ll work, too.”

  I suppressed the urge to snort. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. However, we can no longer prescribe you any narcotics. You’ll have to see your regular doctor to obtain your prescription. However, with that being said, I saw that you just had the last prescription filled only six days ago, so he’s probably not going to give you another one for another twenty four days.”

  He lifted his lip in a snarl. “Listen, bitch. I need that now. The doc’s office isn’t open until Monday. And besides, I ain’t got no money to pay for that again.”

  I squeezed my hands into fists to keep myself from throwing my hands up in the air and yelling, ‘dumbass’ out loud. What did he think? That when he came here it was free?

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bloodsworth,” I said again. “Your doctor is in the middle of signing your discharge paperwork, and you’ll be free to go soon.”

  “I want to see my doctor now,” he snapped.

  I turned without another word and found Doctor Norwood with dread.

  Normally telling a patient that he wouldn’t be getting any narcotics would’ve been the doctor’s role. However, Dr. Norwood still lived to give me shit and found joy in making my day as bad as he could possibly make it.

  I found him in his usual spot next to the corner, and stepped up to the counter so I was facing him. “Dr. Norwood, Mr. Bloodsworth would like to speak with you.”

  “Here, tell him I have him ready. Thanks,” he said as he shoved a stack of paperwork in my direction.

  I ignored the paper work. “He’d like to see you,” I repeated.

  He looked up at me and glared. “Did you hear what I said?”

  I suppressed the urge to growl at him. Where was Cleo when I needed him?

  “I realize that, Dr. Norwood, but he’d like to speak with you,” I said tightly.

  He stood with barely contained impatience and made his way into Mr. Bloodsworth’s room.

  “Can I help you?” He asked him coolly.

  Bowen Bloodsworth looked even worse in the three minutes I’d been gone.

  “Yes, you can tell this other doctor that I’m allowed to have some drugs. My toe hurts somethin’ fierce,” he hissed.

  Dr. Norwood grimaced. “You won’t be getting any narcotics. Here’s your discharge paperwork. Follow up with your primary care provider come Monday,” he hissed back.

  Very helpful, Dr. Norwood.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

  Then proceeded to shit his pants.

  “Did you seriously just do that?” Dr. Norwood asked in flabbergasted surprise.

  Bloodsworth shrugged. “Yes.”

  “Call security,” Dr. Norwood said.

  I did. Gratefully.

  A very upset Bowen Bloodsworth was escorted out moments later, and I, for once, was happy with Dr. Norwood.

  Then he had to go and ruin it.

  “It’s illegal to impersonate a doctor,” Dr. Norwood said snidely.

  I ignored him and walked away. If I said something to him, I’d probably get written up, and nobody wanted that.

  “Dick,” I said under my breath.

  Then proceeded to have a very, very shitty day.

  It consisted of puke, shit, temper tantrums from both fellow nurses and patients, and finally, I tripped and fell. With a specimen cup of pee in my hand.

  Yay, me.

  Then, for the icing on the cake, I now had to testify on the stand tomorrow morning, and I had a no good, very bad, craptastic day.

  Hooray.

  ***

  Rue

  “Are you drunk?” Cleo asked with a smile in his voice.

  I ignored him and filled my coffee cup back up with the boxed wine I’d begged Silas to stop and get on the way home from work.

  I was a little mad at Cleo, because I felt that maybe he had a hand in getting me to testify tomorrow.

  Usually, it wouldn’t bother me in the least to testify on a rape case.

  Normally, though, I didn’t have my life threatened on a daily basis with bodily harm if I did testify.

  I knew his intentions were good.

  I knew he’d protect me. But still. I was a tad bit miffed.

  Taking a sip of my wine, I stared at the television and tried (and note I said try) to ignore the beautiful man.

  It was only my second…or third… cup.

  I really needed to stop, because it probably wouldn’t help to get on the stand drunk, but if I didn’t, I’d start worrying about the what if’s.

  What if whoever was threating me was serious?

  What if something happened to Cleo while he was trying to protect me?

  What if something happened to one of The Dixie Wardens?

  “Rue?” Cleo asked sharply.

  I snapped my head around until I was staring into his eyes. “What?”

  My voice came out sounding a tad bit more shrewish than I’d intended, and his eyebrows rose up in surprise. “What’s your problem?”

  I stared around his house.

  His furniture.

  His TV.

  His afghan.

  His fucking food.

&
nbsp; What here was mine?

  That’s right, nothing.

  Because I didn’t live here.

  This wasn’t my place.

  This was only temporary.

  I turned back to Cleo who was still waiting for my answer and did the one thing that I knew he’d hate. I continued ignoring him.

  He waited patiently for a few more moments before he got his face down into my own. “What. Is. Your. Problem?”

  I wanted to smack him, yet I refrained.

  Was there a reason he kept me in the dark about everything?

  Hell, I was still mad at him for leaving me and not speaking to me for a year.

  “I’m not talking to you right now,” I was finally able to say.

  He snorted. “Well let me know when you decide to stop being a bitch. I’ll be in bed.”

  A twinge of guilt speared through me. He was probably worried just as much as me… but that was what he got for being the one to recommend me taking the stand in the first place.

  Finishing the last dregs of wine, I stood and laughed when I saw all the crumbs from the remnants of the four cookies I eaten earlier fall to the floor.

  Cleo needed a dog.

  If he had a dog, I wouldn’t be worried about the crumbs.

  Groaning with annoyance, I went to the closet where Cleo kept his vacuum and started cleaning.

  Which inevitably led to me cleaning the entire house, stopping to hydrate myself once or twice with another cup of coffee…I mean wine.

  I don’t know when it happened, but at some point I sat down and fell asleep, because housecleaning was hard work, people!

  ***

  Rue

  I woke when I felt an unfamiliar hand touch the sole of my foot.

  It was there, and then it was gone.

  That happened four more times before I woke up, staring straight into the eyes of Sebastian, The VP of The Dixie Wardens.

  “What?” I snapped.

  Except for I fell back to sleep almost instantly, missing why this strange man was caressing my feet inappropriately.

  “You’re going to have to actually pick her up and stand her on her feet. She won’t wake up if you give her girl taps on the foot,” Cleo said mildly.

  I wanted to tell Cleo that he was a douche, but for some reason I was extremely comfortable

  “Why am I doing this and not you, when you clearly could be doing it right now?” Sebastian asked.

  Secretly, I wanted to know the answer to that question as well, but I didn’t care enough about the answer to wake up completely.

  Why was it that at night, I could toss and turn for an hour and not find one smidgeon of comfort, but when I needed to wake up, any and every position was like sleeping on the softest of clouds?

  “Because she’s mad at me and giving me the silent treatment. I’m supposed to stay away from her, or so she told me last night,” Cleo said dryly.

  Had I said that?

  “Yes,” Cleo answered immediately.

  Clearly, I’d said that out loud.

  I popped an eye open and glared at him over the couch. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Last night when I tried to get you to back away from the vacuum, you told me to go fuck a duck, and to leave you alone,” he said with amusement.

  I closed my eyes again, not even caring in the least. “Whatever. I did not.”

  Suddenly my afghan was ripped off me, and I found myself being carried like a sack of grain into the bedroom, watching Sebastian’s amused face as I went.

  “I’m gonna barf down your ass if you don’t put me down,” I growled.

  He did put me down, right into an ice cold shower.

  “Eeeek!” I squeaked. “You…you…butt muncher!”

  My stuttered insult had him laughing, and he left with a smile on his face while I struggled out of my wet clothes.

  Then went to work on the elastic band in my hair that didn’t want to let go of its firm hold on my tangles.

  I sped through my shower, knowing damn well why I’d had so much to drink last night.

  I was nervous.

  In fact, I was so nervous that I was on the verge of puking…or maybe that was the remnants of the wine sloshing around in my empty belly.

  Washing my hair, I was just about to get out of the shower when I saw that Cleo had left his razor in the shower.

  Smiling deviously, I did a quick shave of my legs, bikini line, and armpits, then put the razor back exactly where I found it.

  Served him right.

  “What are you smiling about?” Cleo asked from the doorway causing me to jump in surprise.

  I thought about the time he told me how gross it was when I asked if I could shave my legs with his razor and barely contained a smile. “Nothing. I’m just about ready.”

  He looked at my dripping body skeptically, and turned without another word.

  Toweling off as I walked into the bedroom, I went to the closet where my clothes usually hung and grimaced.

  I’d taken a little too much over to Cleo’s place, and I didn’t really have anything left that was ‘courtroom apparel.’

  The first pair of black pants I tried on wouldn’t zip. The second zipped, but left much to be desired.

  I finally settled on a brown pair of capris that had a flared leg, and paired it with a royal blue flowered shirt.

  It looked a little showy for a courtroom, and I knew I’d be attracting a lot of attention, but I figured it didn’t really matter. I’d be the center of attention when I was giving my testimony anyway.

  Let the games begin.

  ***

  Rue

  No bombs went off on our way to the courthouse.

  No gunman were sitting on the roof across the street shooting me full of holes.

  It was so very uneventful that when I finally took my seat beside Cleo in the back of the room, I was a tad bit disappointed.

  No, not that I didn’t die, but because I hyped myself up to be brave, and nothing even happened.

  That wasn’t to say that I didn’t anticipate something happening.

  There were over a hundred people in the courtroom.

  This was a big case for this town.

  It wasn’t every day that a man was accused of rape when he most likely didn’t do it.

  If it was, in reality, rape, then this was one hell of an elaborate setup.

  “All rise,” the bailiff’s call reverberated through the room.

  We all rose, and the honorable Judge Judy, I shit you not, walked into the room.

  Judy was her last name, though.

  She was a woman with brass balls bigger than most men.

  Cleo and Loki had been talking this morning when we’d stopped at a red light, and Loki had said something about her that I couldn’t believe.

  Now, though, looking at her, I realized what he meant.

  She looks like Snow White, Loki had said.

  She did, indeed, look like Snow White.

  Black hair in a bob at chin level.

  Porcelain white skin.

  Rosy cheeks.

  Then she spoke, and any disillusion that she was like Snow White flew out the window.

  “Sit down. Dortea, get on with it,” Judge Judy snapped.

  “Somebody didn’t get any last night,” Cleo muttered under his breath.

  I elbowed him, causing a gush of air to escape him.

  He turned and glared at me. I could feel his gaze as it burned a hole in the side of my face.

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, inadvertently bumping Loki’s shoulder.

  Why I had to sit in between the two of them was beyond me, but if that’s what I had to do to make the two of them comfortable, then so be it.

  Dortea stood from her chair, and walked until she stood just in front of the judge’s bench. “I’d like to call Rue Loden to the stand. The SANE, or sexual assault nurse examiner, who was the first one to speak with Vanessa about the case.”

  I stood, nervousness making
my legs shake, and walked up to the front.

  However, not before Cleo grabbed the back of my thigh and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

  I patted his hand, letting him know I had it under control.

  Walking up to the stand, I ignored the whispered conversations as best as I could.

  I still heard the muttered comment of ‘he’s hot. Wonder why he’s with her.’

  I would’ve loved to respond, but Judge Judy AKA Snow White, probably wouldn’t like me going all Southern on whatever bitch had just said that, in her courtroom.

  Doing the usual, I stood behind the wooden barrier that was directly beside the Judge’s bench, and placed my hand on the bible.

  “Do you swear to tell the truth,” the bailiff began.

  I missed the rest of what was said, and barely managed an ‘I do’ because my eyes caught on Cleo.

  His gaze held mine, and all the nervousness I was feeling evaporated.

  He wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I was sure of it.

  ***

  Rue

  It all started out good.

  Then it wasn’t.

  Brendan’s lawyer was a beast.

  He was tall, broad, and unforgiving.

  He was cute for an older man, but any and all appeal was lost as soon as he started questioning me.

  “Can you walk me through the routine, just one more time, Ms. Loden?” Mr. Masterson asked.

  I don’t think he meant it to come out sounding so harsh, but it did.

  He made me feel like I was a low life criminal, and I wasn’t. I was a law-abiding citizen who only wanted to make a difference.

  That was why I was a SANE nurse.

  They needed me when they were most vulnerable.

  Sure, most of the time they were just bullshit cases, but every once in a while, like with Audrey, I helped.

  Which was why I pulled my big girl panties up, and explained it one more time.

  “As I said,” I sighed. “I was called in to work a case on the night of April 7. I walked into the room, started speaking with Vanessa, and started collecting what little evidence there was.”

  “And what do you mean by, ‘what little of it there was?’” Mr. Masterson asked, eyes pinning me in place.

  My leg was shaking a mile a minute, but I answered the intimidating man despite my growing ire.