Stern Desire Love Redeemed (7 page)

"I'll have to start a new intravenous line for your antibiotics," I told Jared.

"Go ahead," he said, stretching out his left hand.

"This is going to be tight," I said as I tied the
tourniquet to his upper arm. My favorite vein, the cephalic, popped up right above his gorgeous, gold, Patek Philippe watch.

"Do you mind removing your watch?" I asked.

"I do mind. You'll just have to find another
vein," he replied curtly.

"No problem," I said. Then after sticking him in the mid-forearm, I started his antibiotics. Why was he so terse? What was he hiding? Maybe a tattoo?

"Would you like something for sleep? You need to rest."

"No, thanks."

"Fine, you're the patient."

"You sound upset."

"Jared, you need to rest so you can get better. You are always on the phone or the computer. Don't you want to get back to your life?"

"I haven't had a life in six years."

"A great number of people might beg to differ." I turned toward the door. "We'll talk after you have rested." I left the room.

Half an hour later I went back to disconnect his antibiotics. Then, unbeknownst to him I gave him the nurse's dose of Benadryl,
a little more than what was ordered to make sure he slept.

"Kyra, maybe I should take something for sleep," Jared said.

"You've already gotten it," I replied.

He smiled and shook his head. "What did you give me?"

"Benadryl."

"We need to talk, Kyra. Promise me you'll wake me up before you leave."

"I promise. Goodnight."

"Thank you, Kyra."

"No problem. Just doing my job."

"Do I get a good-night kiss?"

"That's not in my job description. Good night, Mr. Stern.

"I hate when you do that."

"I know."

How many boundaries did I cross in that encounter?

Before I left at six o'clock, I peeked in on Jared and he was peacefully sleeping. He looked so angelic, I was tempted to caress his lips with mine and I had to remind myself that he was my patient. It was morally wrong and I had to maintain professional boundaries. He had been sleeping for
about four hours now, the most I have ever seen him sleep. I could not help but wonder why Ella hadn't visited him. But the most pressing question was why he was so discourteous when I asked him to remove his watch in order for me to
start an intravenous line. So guarded was he, with apparently a great deal to hide.

I took my phone out and sent him a text.

My text: Standing next to you right now watching you sleep
so peacefully. Could not bring myself to wake you. Left early. See you later. - K

I got home, took a shower, ate, saw Nate off to school. I could not have asked for a more respectful, well-behaved, studious child.
Everyone he met loved him and it made me so proud to hear the accolades he received from his teachers and friends. He was my only child and I couldn't help but spoil him a little. He loved his games, so when he asked for the latest PS3 game, I went online and ordered it. He would have it when he got home; Aunt
Maggie was making a run to the store to pick the game up. After completing some research on a paper that I had to write for school, I nestled myself between my comfy Egyptian cotton sheets when my phone chimed.

Jared's text: You broke your promise.

My text: Please forgive me.

Jared's text: I'll have to think about it.

My text: How was your sleep?

Jared's text: Very restful. Most I've had in years.

My text: Good. You needed it. I'm going to bed now. See you later.

Jared's text: What would you like for dinner tonight?

My text: Surprise me.

Jared's text: Seafood?

My text: My favorite. Why were you so blunt when I asked about the dressing on your hand the night you were admitted, and also last night when I asked you to remove your watch?

Jared's text: Sorry if I was. It's nothing really. Sweet dreams. Can't wait to see you.

It's nothing really
. That's a load of crap, and I'm not buying. Nobody reacts in such a snappy, cagey manner to nothing. My
suspicious antennas were up transmitting skeptical signals; something was not right.

If curiosity could kill, I would have died a thousand times since Jared told me he wanted to talk to me. I could not help but wonder what
he was going to divulge that would convince me to enter into a relationship with him. Was he capable of a complicated relationship? I could easily see how one could agree to an uncomplicated relationship with him. He was enigmatic, irresistible, charming, mesmerizing, and breathtakingly attractive. Would I
break my rule and settle for less than a meaningful relationship?

When it came to men, I had serious trust issues. Two weeks after Rob died, I got a phone call. It was from an area code that I did not
recognize.

"Is this Kyra?" the woman on the other end asked.

"Yes, this is she."

"My name is Ashley."

That name sounded familiar. I remembered Rob talking to an
Ashley on several occasions, but I had thought it was a guy. He was always very abrupt on those calls, promising to call back, and there was not anything about the brief conversations that caused me to think otherwise. At that moment of
realization, a dark cloud came over me; Ashley was not a guy but a girl.

"How can I help you, Ashley?"

"I'm sorry; I heard that Rob passed, but I did not have
the nerve to call."

"And who are you?" I asked calmly.

"I was his girlfriend and, um ... I'm pregnant with his child."

I felt so betrayed and heartbroken. If I could have brought
Rob back I would, and then I would have killed him myself.

"How far along are you?" I asked, trying to gather more information. Anguish boiled inside of me.

"I'm due in a month."

"How long were you together?

"Almost a year and a half."

"Did you know about me?"

"Not in the beginning. I found out about you after I
was pregnant."

"So, why are you telling me this?"

"Because he lied to both of us, and I thought you had a right to know."

I was not certain about her reasoning behind telling me. Rob
was already gone, and now in addition to my grief I had to deal with betrayal and anger. Ashley and I spoke on several occasions, and still do sometimes. She had a boy, and there was no doubt in my mind that it was Rob's child. She moved
back to the Bahamas after the baby was born to be close to her family. Nate and I vacationed in the Bahamas a few times and had seen Ashley and Nick, her son. I had gotten over any ill feelings I had toward Ashley. We were both betrayed
and had learned the hard way that men could not be trusted. They were a bunch of users, manipulators, cheaters, and liars that we couldn't do without.

.

I was forty-five minutes early for work, another record. The
elevator door opened and we piled in. As the door was about to close, a tall, designer-clad lady, who looked like she had just stepped right out of a fashion magazine, approached the elevator. The guy at the front of the elevator stuck his leg out between the closing elevator doors. It was amazing he would
sacrifice a leg for this beautiful woman. She stepped in and got everybody's attention. The guys could not take their eyes off her; the women envied her. She looked very familiar. I knew this woman; but I could not identify from
where. She and I were the only ones left on the elevator after everyone else got off on the fifth floor. The only lit button was for the eighth floor.

"I'm sorry to bother you," I said to her.
"But you look very familiar."

She flipped her brunette hair over her shoulder.

"I'm a model," she said abruptly.

The elevator doors opened on the eighth floor, and she
stepped out as if she were on the runway and approached the security desk where a guard was sitting. Before Jared Stern was a patient, there was no need for a security guard, but now we had one for the Eight North VIP.

"Hi, Jimmy," I called to the guard, but Jimmy was
fixated on the tall brunette approaching him. As I opened the glass door leading onto the unit, I heard the model say to the guard, "I'm going to Room 825."

"What's your name?" Jimmy asked.

"Ella Knight. He's expecting me."

Holy shit! So, that's her.

"What's the password?"

"I don't have one; can you give him a call?" she
said rudely.

The sliding glass door closed behind me. I almost ran to the office. I opened the office door, dropped my bag on the desk, and yanked my Littmann stethoscope from the drawer. I had an idea, and I was not going to
miss a word.

Room 824 was an empty room under construction. It was next to Jared's room, and that's where I was heading. I made sure I was not seen as I entered Room 824, placed the stethoscope in my ears, and the diaphragm of the
stethoscope against the wall right where Jared's bed would be on the opposite side.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" J.C. said to Jared.

"Don't go too far," Jared said. "You might
need to escort her out."

The room door to 825 opened. "Hi, love, how are you doing?" Ella asked. "I've missed you."

"What time did I tell you to get here?" Jared
asked.

I could hear the indifference in his voice.

"I'm sorry, baby, but I had to pay Lolo a quick visit and get my hair done."

"Ella, I told you it's over. Why did you insist on
coming?" he said, very annoyed.

"Because I don't believe you; you can't be serious."

"Take your hands off me, Ella."

"You always liked it when I did that," she said
sensually. "Come on, baby; let me do this for you ... let me have some."

"Ella, stop ... fuck."

I wanted to stop listening, but I could not. I could hear
her moaning and the weird sucking sounds. "I love how you taste."

Then I figured it out. She was giving him a blow job. I quickly removed the stethoscope from the wall. Jealousy showed its ugly face. I
was resentful and angry; and wanted him to do something to stop her. This was more than what I expected to hear. How this encounter with Ella ended would be the decision-maker for us. Was this some sick game that he played? Was I just another conquest for him? Deep down I wanted to find a reason that would make
me decide against this relationship.

Muffled voices came through the wall.

"Ella, get off me," Jared shouted.

I heard that without the stethoscope, and started listening
again.

"Don't I make you happy?" Ella asked.

"Hand me the wipes," he said.

"Please give me more," she begged.

"Take your fucking hands off me."

"What did I do, baby? Are you in one of your funky moods?"

"Why did you come?" he asked rudely. "Make it
easy on yourself, Ella. Just go. It's over."

"No, you don't mean it," she said, sounding confused.

"Should I call J.C. to drag you out of here, or are you going to leave quietly?"

"What am I going to do?" she cried. "It's been four years, Jared. Please, baby ... please don't. I can't ... I won't go on without you."

"You will."

"I'll die, Jared ... I prefer to die than live without
you," she cried.

"This is not going to work, Ella," he shouted at her.

"I mean it, Jared," she threatened.

"Do what you fucking want to do. It's over."

"You don't mean it," she cried. "I'll do anything ... anything. You know I'll do anything for you. Just say it and I'll do it."

"Leave," he said, in a very dark tone.

"Is there someone else?"

"Ella, I want more than what we had; and I'm sorry but it's not going to be with you."

"More!" she said scornfully. "After all that
you made me give, made me do. I wanted to get married, have your kids. I've always wanted more ... wanted to give you more, but all you did was treat me like a fucking toy."

After a brief pause Ella added, "Isn't it obvious how
much I love you?"

"Ella ... Ella," he said calmly.

"I love you, Jared ... I can't survive without you. Please don't do this."

"I'm sorry, Ella, but I can't do this anymore. I don't love you the way you want to be loved."

"I don't care; just don't leave me. I'm on my knees begging ... please," Ella sobbed.

"You can keep everything - the condo, the cars, the jewelry. Just remember you can never breathe a word of anything that went on in our relationship," he said. The strange, dark overtone in his voice made me wonder what went on in their relationship.

"I ... I won't say anything," she stammered.

"Just a reminder."

Some reminder.

"Answer this, Jared," Ella said bitterly. "Do
you think anyone will ever know you like I do, the real Jared Stern? Can you take her to The Pad? Are you going to tell her about your preferences? Do you think she will do the things I did for you ... the things you let me do? Are
you going to show her the real you because if you do ... "

"Ella, stop!" he interrupted her ranting. "Now get the fuck out."

"You'll regret this, Jared."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I won't live without you."

"J.C., get her out of here."

Almost instantly the door opened.

"Let's go," J.C. said.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Ella shouted at J.C.

The door opened. I looked out the small glass window in the door of Room 824. Ella was standing outside Room 825. She ran her fingers
through her hair, used her hands to wipe tears from her face. She removed oversized glasses from a very expensive Hermes crocodile handbag, put them on, and hurried down the hallway. I went back to my listening position and heard Jared telling J.C. to call security and deny Ella any further access.

"Henry, Jared here." He was on his phone. "I need you to pick up Ella. I think she's a danger to herself."

Who is Henry? Please give me an inkling.

"I broke up with her, and I don't think she's in a good place right now. She threatened to kill herself. I'll call with her location. She's just leaving the hospital."

He was talking to J.C. now, telling him to track Ella and
let Henry know where she was.

What a controlling freak. He could track her! I looked at my watch. I had to go get report. I was looking for answers, but all I got were even more disturbing questions. I wondered who the real Jared would turn out to
be. Jared was a multifaceted guy, but what was he hiding? And would I ever know the real Jared Stern?

At the nurses station, everyone was talking and asking questions about the brunette who visited Room 825. I took report, rounded on all the patients on the floor, purposely making Room 825 my last room to visit. J.C. was in the sitting area on a computer and was talking to someone on the phone. I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I opened the door and
peeked in. Jared had his headset on and his eyes were closed. He looked very pensive. I updated the board in his room with the names of those who would be taking care of him that night. When I was finished, I turned around, only to
find him watching me, still looking pensive.

"Sorry to disturb you," I said.

"I didn't hear you, but I sensed that you were here."

"How are you?"

"I'm okay," he said, but it was not convincing.

His phone rang, and I turned to leave.

"Hold on, Kyra."

He answered the phone. "Henry."

"Como esta ella?"

How is she?

I wish I could have heard the other side of the conversation. Jared listened on the phone, but his eyes were fixed on me. I was
beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"
Que mal? Guardeme informado."

That bad? Keep me posted.

He placed his phone on the bed.

"You look very rested." I considered adding
preoccupied, but decided not to.

"Thank you. Remember, you drugged me."

"I did no such thing. You asked for the medication." I smiled.

"After you drugged me."

"Are you going to report me?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Give me your hand," he requested.

"Why?" I said hesitantly, slowly walking toward him. I was weary of his actions, and unprepared for his touch. I hated the way he made me feel incapacitated and powerless.

"Get over here and give me your hand, please." His
outstretched hand beckoned me over.

I stretched my hand out to him timidly anticipating his touch, my heart pounding in my chest. He took my hand and placed it against his
cheek; he closed his eyes. Slowly, the worrisome look on his face dissipated. He turned his head and kissed the palm of my hand. My knees felt weak and I closed my eyes and fought the urge to melt in his arms. That warm feeling overcame me. I opened my eyes.

"Kiss me, Kyra," Jared said softly.

"No," I said, fighting the urge. I remembered Ella's comments and that quickly brought me back to reality. I gently caressed his cheek with my hand. "I'll see you later," I said, and left.

The nurse from the recovery room brought a patient up to the floor; we had some problems waking him up earlier. For the next two hours, we were busy getting orders from the doctor and monitoring the patient closely. I
checked to see if the cultures I did on Jared had returned, even though I knew it would take at least twenty-four hours. His vitals were fine. His fever was gone, but he was still on intravenous antibiotics. I could only hope there
would be no more complications.

.

Jared's and J.C.'s eyes were fixed on the television screen so intently, I doubted they were aware I was in the room. On the television screen were two individuals dressed in ancient samurai suits fighting each
other with sticks.

"Just a minute, Kyra," Jared said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"This is where I thought I had you," J.C. said,
pointing toward the television screen.

So underneath all that costuming were Jared and J.C.; the only part of their bodies that was left exposed was their feet. I thought I was watching something out of a classic Japanese movie. They were wearing unusual
looking wide leg pants, jackets, grilled helmets on their heads, and chest plates. Jared was in all white and J.C. was dressed in black and white. They were fighting each other with wooden swords, and were actually striking each other pretty hard. Each strike made a loud snapping sound.