Catch Me Falling (7 page)

I
t was
Monday afternoon and the ER was packed. Isaac was everywhere at once, entering orders, finishing charts and treating patients. And there was no time to stop and think about Alexa. About the weekend. About the fact that he wanted her more, not less, as time passed. That wasn’t part of his equation. He wasn’t supposed to want. She was supposed to do the wanting.

He had 15 minutes to scarf down his lunch, and instead of eating he was thinking about Alexa. He wasn’t quite sure that was a fair trade off. His gaze shifted out the window, at the sun beaming inside. It made him think of heat, which made him think of her, of the way she had fit against him on the wakeboard, her slim body pressed against his…

He wrenched himself away from that train of thought. He could feel his cock harden, and that was not a good thing at work. Scrubs didn’t hide much.

“You okay?” A nurse slid into the chair opposite him.

He vaguely recognized her. She was one of the newer nurses, one he hadn’t met more than twice. “Yes.”

She smiled, her lips curving into a sensuous smile. She was a pretty young woman with light chocolate skin, and soft, curly hair. His mind went back to Alexa, wondering what she was doing. Was she at the hospital, working? What was she doing? Had she come into work anyway, instead of staying home? How sore was she?

“So you're a doctor?” Melanie asked, drawing him out of his thoughts. Her large blue eyes were thick with mascara, and she batted them in his direction, taking a bite of her yogurt and licking the spoon in a way that was most definitely deliberate. She was interested in him, then. Great.

He nodded, inwardly rolling his eyes. He wore scrubs and a nametag that said doctor. What else was he? Melanie was offering herself to him, practically on a silver platter. He could see it in her eyes, the way she smiled, the fact she had picked the chair closest to him. And all he could think about was Alexa.

That was not how life was supposed to go.

He smiled politely at Melanie and, instead of hitting on her, building a rapport, planning to take her home, he said nothing.

Eventually, she got the hint and left. He rubbed his forehead, threw the rest of his lunch away. He hadn't finished it, but he wasn't hungry anymore. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking of Alexa. That wasn’t part of his rules. It wasn’t how he did things.

One of the more experienced nurses, Chris, popped her head in the door. “There's a patient for you in trauma,” she said. “Domestic violence, and it’s bad.”

Isaac nodded, yanking on his white coat, grabbing his stethoscope, and heading back into the main patient area. He took a deep breath, centered himself. There was no point in rushing into a code without being centered. Codes were chaos, and he had to be the eye of the storm.

He headed to the trauma room, scrubbing and gowning up as required.

Chris, one of the more experienced nurses, was right by his side. “Ready?” she asked.

“As ready as you can get,” he said grimly.

She led the way inside. “One GSW to the abdomen to the woman, husband was pronounced DOA. Self-inflicted.”

Isaac swallowed, his throat dry. He shouldn’t be working this case. Shouldn’t be running the code. But he could see the other doctor on the shift, Craig, running another code in the same room. He was the only one. Melanie was straddling the woman, performing CPR, even as other nurses tried to thread IVs into blown veins.

“Pupils are fixed and dilated,” one nurse called. “She’s been down a while.”

“Any info from the paramedics?” Isaac called, pulling out an intubation kit.

“Neighbors heard a gunshot about twenty minutes ago, she was rushed here critical, they got a thread pulse on scene.” The record-keeper in the corner called out the time, and another amp of meds were pushed.

“I’m intubating,” Isaac said, grabbing a laryngoscope and trying to get a clear view of the woman’s vocal cords. But there was so much blood.

It took four tries before he got the tube in her throat, before they could try breathing for her. The monitor was still flatlining. No heart activity. Probably no brain activity. She was long gone.

“Time of death.” His voice was wooden, and he glanced up at the clock. “3:34pm.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked back. It was Craig, a doctor he had gone through residency with. Someone that Isaac considered a friend, in the work sense of the word. “You did all you could,” Craig said. His voice was soft, reassuring. Something he had mastered both as a doctor and as a father of two.

“Where’s the husband?” Isaac asked. “Cops will need both for ballistics.”

Craig nodded to the other table. So that was who he had been working on.

The husband was already covered up, ready for the morgue. Isaac pulled back the sheet, morbid curiosity overcoming him.

For a split second he saw his own face looking back at him, his own body laying on that slab, deathly pale. Dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound, having murdered the woman he loved.

Then the image faded, and there was a middle-aged white man with dark brown hair. Not him. Even though Isaac knew it could be. Was that a glimpse of his own future? His dark past, his genes, catching up with him?

“You okay?” Craig’s soft voice pulled him back to the present. “Pulled too many overnights lately?”

Isaac forced a chuckle. “Something like that.” He took a deep breath. “I need some fresh air. I’ll be back in a few to do the paperwork.”

Craig nodded, turning back to the nurse still in the room.

Isaac took a deep breath. Sometimes he missed his family so much that it hurt. Survivor’s guilt, they called it. No one had told him that it never went away. That it would haunt him when he couldn’t save his patients. Instead they had told him he was lucky. That he should be grateful to have survived his father’s rampage.

He thought that was bullshit.

He pulled out his phone and opened it. Looked at Alexa’s number, created a text message.
I want to see you
, he typed.

He did. He wanted to. He craved her, craved burying his face in her neck and inhaling her scent, craved holding her close, seeing her face as he thrust into her. But he deleted the words. He couldn’t send them. She didn’t need to know, and it didn’t matter anyway. That wasn’t what they did. It was just sex. It wasn’t worth anything. It couldn’t be worth anything. Rage surged through him and he ripped a pen out of his pocket and threw it across the room, hearing it clatter against the metal and fall to the floor.

If she knew feelings were getting in the mix, she would want more. And he couldn’t give her more, no matter how much he wanted to. It was best if they kept it at just sex. There was no commitment, no danger. No worry that he would just snap one day, and become the monster he saw in himself.

He took a deep breath, took another moment to compose himself. Then he went out and finished the rest of the shift. The patients depended on him. He couldn't let them down.

A
lexa sank
into a seat at the bar next to Jill, a rum and coke in her hand. After Saturday, after a long work day – she needed it. And maybe another one. She turned to her friend. “Long day?”

“Boring with you not there.” Jill rolled her eyes and then sipped her mocktail.

Alexa nodded, just glad to sit down. Court had required quite a bit of standing, and although her soreness was starting to ease, she still hurt. “How’d your date go?”

Jill stirred the straw of her drink. “Good.”

Alexa waited, but nothing else seemed forthcoming. “Good? Just good?”

Jill smiled her most charming, over-the-top smile. “Yup.”

“I waited all day for good?” Alexa was mock-offended.

“How was your weekend?” Jill raised an eyebrow, tilted her head to the side. “Get a lot of work
done?”

Alexa took a drink of her rum and coke as casually as she could, trying to hide the flush that rose on her cheeks. “We got a lot of work done.”

Jill chuckled, then her face turned speculative. “How are you two doing?”

Panic threatened to rise in Alexa’s chest. Did Jill know about them, what they were doing? “What do you mean?”

Jill studied her over her drink. “Since you two are working together, and all. Is the consulting going well, is he hot but useless, or hot and smart. I need some details, girl.”

Oh. That. “He knows what he’s talking about, that’s for sure.”

“So hot and smart then.” She sighed wistfully.

“So when do I get to meet your new boyfriend?”

There was a flash of something across Jill’s face - panic, maybe. Then it was gone, replaced by a teasing smile. “How do I know you won't chase him away?”

Alexa snorted. “You know me, beating them off with a stick.”

Jill chuckled. “It's nothing serious,” she said with a shrug. “But he’s nice.”

Alexa raised her eyebrows. “He’s nice,” she repeated, incredulous. “Your new man is
nice
.”

Jill's cheeks flushed. “He is,” she insisted.

“Oh, I'm sure,” Alexa agreed. “But I don't think I've ever heard you call somebody
nice
before. Sure it’s not more serious than you think?”

Jill narrowed her eyes.

“If you get to ask me about Isaac, I get to ask about him. Fair’s fair,” Alexa informed her.

“You and Isaac are just friends,” Jill said innocently. “It's not the same thing at all.”

“It’s different.”

Jill tapped her finger against her drink, thoughtful. “It's only fair to let you ask questions about mine,” she said with a grin.

“Oh, so he's yours now?” Alexa raised her eyebrows.

Jill put on her brightest smile. “You should bring Isaac by so we can go on a double friend date.”

Alexa’s stomach sank at the thought. A date? A double date? With Jill? More importantly, with Isaac? He didn’t do dates. He did one night stands. Although they had passed that quite a few, uh, encounters ago. “We’re not dating,” she said firmly.

“Did you get some pants action while you were there?” Jill’s eyes sparkled, changing the topic.

“Jill!”

“That’s a yes.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Alexa sat down her drink a little bit more firmly than she should have, and she watched as some of it sloshed out of the side and onto her hand. It wasn’t Jill’s fault she didn’t know the whole story. It was Alexa’s. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready, okay?”

Jill nodded but didn’t say anything.

Alexa sighed, grabbed a napkin and wiped the drink off of her hand. “I’m going to get another drink,” she said, looking at Jill. “Want a refill?”

Jill studied her for a moment. “Sure.”

Alexa stood and headed over to the bar, ignoring the way her heart raced in her chest. Giddiness was warring with fear, both emotions threatening to send her over the edge. She wanted to ask him on a date. She wanted to ask him out, and she wanted him to say yes.

But all that would do is cause trouble.

Settling into a stool at the bar, she caught the attention of the bartender. “Another rum and coke, please, and another mocktail.”

The bartender nodded, turning her attention to the drinks. It would probably be a wait, but Alexa was okay with that.

Someone settled in the seat next to her and she ignored them. If they wanted to hit on her, good luck, she wasn’t interested.

“Found you.”

Alexa froze, adrenaline surging through her veins at the sound of his voice. She turned, her eyes wide, and saw him.

Damien. Sitting there next to her at the bar, dressed in his usual t-shirt and jeans. His brown eyes were narrowed at her, his face dark. “You’ve been hiding from me.”

Alexa kept herself from running away. If they were going to have this conversation, it needed to be where she could be overheard. Where she had witnesses. No matter what potential damage could be done to her reputation.

“I told you to leave me alone,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m done with you.”

His smile was what she had come to associate with pure evil. It was his planning smile. “No, you’re not.” He leaned in, his breath tickling her ear.

Nausea swarmed her stomach, and for a moment she thought she would throw up on him.

“Not yet.” He kissed her cheek, twirled a strand of her hair. Then sauntered out of the bar.

Alexa left the drinks at the bar, heading for the bathroom. She barely made it into the stall before she threw up, her body heaving. Fuck him. Fuck Damien to the darkest pit of hell. What right did he have to – to touch her, to get his sleazy hands on her?

Her pulse was thudding so loudly she could hear it, and for a moment she felt so lightheaded she feared she would pass out. She retched again, closed her eyes. The bathroom wasn’t as gross as it could have been, but it was still a bar. Standing, she flushed the toilet and then went to the sink, rinsing her mouth out. What she wouldn’t give for more alcohol, or at least water.

Taking a deep breath, she stared at herself in the mirror. She looked like nothing had changed, but it felt like her world had shifted. Like she had almost taken a step back towards
then
, when bruises on her body were a daily thing. She was stronger than that. She was past that.

She left the bathroom, headed back to the bar. Maybe the drinks were still there. Someone bumped her and she flinched, fighting the surge of fear that the touch sent through her. “Alexa?”

T
he emotions Isaac’s
voice invoked were hard to pinpoint at first. Fear, relief, embarrassment, shame. Hope. She stopped in her tracks, turned and looked at him. He was dressed casually, jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. He didn’t look imposing, he didn’t look scary. He looked warm and inviting.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft now, concerned. He reached out and touched her face, cupped her cheek, and she was surprised to feel moisture on her face. She was crying.

He took her hand, drew her into his embrace and held her, tucking them out of the way. Her arms were wrapped around his middle, her face buried in his chest. She breathed in, breathed out, his evergreen scent relaxing. She wasn’t okay, and she knew it. She was scared. It felt like she was falling, like every time she tried to get a grip on a handhold it was yanked away from her.

“Please,” she murmured, the need in her burning through her veins. “I need you.”

He went tense against her, then tipped her head up. There was surprise in his eyes, but heat, too. He wasn’t objecting to what she wanted. “Okay.” He leaned down and kissed her, his soft, warm lips moving against hers. It wasn’t desperate, wasn’t messy. It was sweet, sad. Longing. She ached for him. She needed him.

He took her hand, kissed her one more time. “Let’s find someplace private.”

Her phone buzzed and she looked at it, her heart sinking.

Where are you?

Jill. She’d completely forgotten about Jill. “My friend –”

“The paralegal?”

Alexa nodded. “Jill.”

“I can take you home.” He glanced at the bar. “I haven’t drunk anything yet.”

Alexa was torn. She wanted him. But she and Jill had made plans.

“Hello.” Jill’s voice caught Alexa off guard.

Alexa pulled herself out of Isaac’s hold and turned to look at Jill, a sheepish expression on her face. “Uh. Hi.”

Jill’s eyebrows were raised, a very clear what-do-we-have-here expression. “Isaac, right?” She extended a hand to Isaac.

“Yes.” They shook hands.

Well things really couldn’t get too much more bizarre.

“You two okay?” Jill asked.

“I’d like to borrow her, if I could.” Isaac’s smile was charming, and he wrapped his arm around Alexa’s shoulders.

Alexa forced herself to take a deep breath. He wasn’t Damien. He was different. She could smell his evergreen scent, feel the muscles in his arm around her. “I’m not property, you know.” Alexa elbowed him.

Jill snorted, but the look she shot Alexa was concerned curiosity. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work?”

Alexa nodded, slipping out from underneath Isaac in order to give her a hug. “Usual time, usual place.”

Jill mock-saluted them, two fingers tapping her forehead, and then she was out the door.

“She’s interesting,” Isaac said mildly, wrapping his arm around Alexa.

“She’s my best friend,” Alexa retorted.

“I can see why.” He held her close, but there wasn’t the same urgency, the same heat that had been there minutes before.

“Sorry.” Alexa averted her eyes, sheepish. They had been that close to finding a place, and then she had smashed the mood.

“Don’t be.” He kissed her gently. “Come to my lake house this weekend again. Whatever day works for you.” His eyes were intense, heated. “We can pick up where we left off.”

She looked at him, at his blue eyes staring back at her. “Saturday works.”

“Be at my place at seven. Bring an overnight bag.” He linked arms with her, and together they left the bar. “I’ll take you home.”

I
t started innocently enough
. School was out and, as the youngest, Isaac was the last one home. He knocked on the door, waited. No answer. The car was there. Where were Mom and Dad? There was no answer. He shifted uneasily, tried to figure out what to do. He could get a neighbor, but if his Dad had been weird again, he didn’t want the nice Miss Victoria to have to see that. He couldn’t let her see it.

It had started a few months ago, his Dad saying weird things. Accusing Mom of cheating. Accusing their neighbors of spying. It wasn’t often, maybe once a week, but it made him uneasy. Most of the time, Dad was who he always was. The Dad who came to his baseball practice. The Dad who threw a ball back and forth with him. The Dad Isaac loved.

Isaac tried the door and was surprised when it was unlocked. He was shaking now, his hands barely able to push the door open. What was happening? Where were his sister and brother? His mother? Someone should have been home. Where were they? Fear made goosebumps prickle up and down his skin, the hair on the back of his neck standing up.

Slowly, carefully, 7-year-old him took a step inside and froze. The far wall was covered in blood, and there was someone – no, multiple someones – lying on the floor.

“You’re home.” It was his father’s voice, his Dad’s voice, but there was something wrong with it. Something that sent alarms blaring in his mind.

“Dad?” Isaac turned to look at him, hopeful and frightened at the same time.

His father was carrying a knife, and it was dripping with blood.

Isaac threw himself out of the nightmare so violently that he ended up on the floor tangled in his sheets. He couldn’t remember the rest of it, couldn’t think about it.

It had been twenty five years and he still remembered that day like it was yesterday.

Shaken, he stood and left his bedroom. He went to the kitchen, started the coffee maker. There was no way he was going back to sleep. At least he had slept some. Four hours would get him through the rest of the day, and he didn’t have to work, not even to see Alexa. He could take a nap.

The coffee maker beeped at him and he poured himself a mug, his hands trembling so badly he was surprised he didn’t drop either the mug or the coffee carafe. Four a.m., on a day off. Maybe he would go to the lake house. Maybe he would go to the cemetery. He could go see his mother, his siblings. He shook his head. No. No, he couldn’t. He missed them so much it hurt, but he couldn’t - he couldn’t relive that, not now. Not when he was seeing Alexa tomorrow.

“Stupid,” he muttered, gripping the mug of coffee so hard he was afraid it would shatter. But it didn't, and Isaac was reassured of the quality of glasses he owned. It was ridiculous to be considering such a thing at four the morning, but there was nothing else to think about. Or was there?

He looked at his phone, played with it. Pulled up the text he’d gotten from Alexa. He could text her, but like the rest of humanity she was probably sleeping. What had he been thinking, asking her to pack an overnight bag? Did he seriously expect her to spend the night? Did he want her to?

That was easy. He did want her to. He craved her. He needed her. But there was a reason he had never slept with anyone before. He couldn’t put anyone through his nightmares. Through him. He hadn’t hurt anyone, not in a long time. But maybe it would be different with her. Everything else had been. Her kisses were hotter, the sex even better, and she made him feel wanted in a way no one else ever had.

He sprawled over the couch, grabbing the remote and flicking through the channels before he found something that appealed to him. It was six by the time the show finished, a time when normal people woke up. Probably when workaholics got up too. His hand skimmed his phone, then he picked it up.

Good morning
, he texted Alexa.

“Stupid,” Isaac said acerbically, closing his phone. She was probably asleep. What if he woke her up?

Then his phone vibrated. He hated that his heart skipped a beat when he saw her name on the screen.
Hello
, she had texted back.

Not a good morning?
He sipped yet another cup of coffee. When she didn’t text back immediately, he pulled up the news on his phone. Coffee plus news was his normal wake-up routine.

His phone buzzed.
Who’s good at 6am?

He chuckled.
What are you doing?

Heading to court.

Early?

Meetings. Every lawyer’s bane
.

We have those too
.

I bet. Gotta go. Court won’t wait.

Part of him didn’t want to say goodbye. He had a slight smile on his face, and for the first time since he had woken up he felt relaxed. It certainly wasn’t the coffee. But she did have to work, even if he didn’t.
See you later
.

Later.

Then he closed his phone, stared at the TV as if it would tell him what was bothering him. He shouldn't like her, shouldn't want her. But he did. He wanted her so much that he didn't know how to deal with it. For the first time in his life he worried about chasing someone away. About scaring her off. He had never worried about shit like that. It had never mattered before.

But he was afraid if he lost her he would lose a part of himself. She seemed to understand him, understand some of the baggage he carried with him. No one else had.

Isaac pushed himself off the couch and went into the shower, Alexa still on his mind.

A
lexa glared
at the far wall of her office as if it was the cause of the thudding in her head. Why was it that no matter what she drank she woke up with a headache? Jill could drink, like, five bottles of wine and wake up as happy as a clam. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but Alexa didn’t care. To make up for the botched bar night on Monday they had gone out on Tuesday. Alexa regretted her decision.

Even a shower and aspirin hadn’t made the headache go away. It had been her fault for not drinking water. She had meant to. She had even gotten a glass. But having the water just sitting there by her bed when she woke up hadn’t made a difference.

And then she had dreamed of Isaac. Well. Half-dream, half-memory.

Isaac naked, ripped and with the most lickable abs she had ever seen. It was true, she had tasted them. Him sitting her on her desk, his mouth on her neck, on her breasts, trailing down to between her legs –

Oh hell no. She wasn’t thinking about that at work. But apparently her brain hadn’t gotten the memo.

There was a knock on the door and she groaned, clutching at her head. “Who is it?” she grumbled. If it was Jill, Jill could wait. Jill could wait forever.

The door opened slowly. It wasn't Jill, because she wasn't tentative. She just slammed the door open like a boss, which sucked, because today it would have felt like a gunshot to Alexa’s head and she might have murdered her. And that wouldn’t have been good for Alexa’s reputation.

Alexa stood quickly, pretending that she was fine and there was nothing wrong with her. Nope. No hangover. No bloodshot eyes. She was fine and dandy.

Isaac entered, his eyebrows raised when he caught sight of her. “I think I have a witness for the appendicitis case.” He was dressed in scrubs, so probably fresh off a shift or about to work one. It wasn’t fair how well those scrubs fit him. Her mind skittered back to the dream, to taking off his shirt and licking his abs and –

Work. She was supposed to be working. Maybe she was still a little drunk. That would explain it. Appendicitis case… oh, that was from a week ago. Right. “Just give me the name, and I'll contact them,” Alexa said, looking around her desk for her standard pen and paper. There it was. She grabbed it and carefully set it down on his side of the desk as if it was fine china.

“I already wrote it down,” Isaac said, extending a sticky note in her direction. He looked her up and down. “Are you okay?”

“I am most definitely okay,” she said, probably with too much enthusiasm. Her head was pounding, she felt like she was thinking through a wad of cotton, and the absolute last thing she wanted to do was be chatting with the man she had dreamed about having sex with last night and staring at his delicious-looking abs. Especially when she knew she could lick his abs (and have sex with him) if she tried.

Today was shaping up to be excellent.

“I went out with a friend last night, and maybe drank a little bit too much.” Was it undignified to admit? Probably. She certainly didn’t feel dignified.

He raised his eyebrows, his expression torn between amusement and concern. Then he turned and left her office without saying anything.

Rude. She glared at his retreating form. She glared at the wall. At least he hadn’t slammed the door. Was he being polite? Probably. She had noticed he was very polite. Mostly.

Maybe next time she wouldn’t drink on a day she had to work. It couldn’t be too hard to convince Jill to keep the drinking just on weekends. If she was really lucky Isaac had gone to report her to a supervisor. Then she’d really be in trouble.