Stripped (17 page)

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Stop being so cryptic. Tell me why I don’t have to
worry about him.”

“Have you ever heard of Warden Nash?” Chris lowered
his voice to a whisper as he spoke the name.

“No.”

“He’s the head of the biggest drug ring in the city.
Last year he was brought into the ER because he was shot, and I treated him. I
took two bullets out of him.”

Abby furrowed her brows, confused.

“Nash told me before he left the hospital to call
him if I ever needed anything. I have his number in my wallet. Never, ever
thought I’d use it – but I did.”

“What did you do?” Abby demanded, her blood running
cold.

“Tim’s not dead,” Chris said quickly. “Just messed
up. And he deserved it, Abby. After what he did to you. I don’t want you
worrying about the girls all the time. He was told to never come near them
again, or to your house.”

“Chris…”

“You can’t imagine how badly I wanted to do it
myself, but I can’t mess up my hands because of work. Don’t feel sorry for him,
Abby. You were an innocent child. He deserved what he got.”

“But --”

“Don’t.” Anger crept into Chris’ voice. “Do not say
one word in his defense. You excuse people for treating you like shit, and it’s
not okay.”

Abby didn’t trust her voice, but she was able to
push back the lump in her throat enough for one word.

“Thanks.”

Chapter 9

Audrey’s eyes had been locked on Chris all night,
and Abby was hoping her sister didn’t have a crush on him. He had taken Abby
and her sisters out for pizza before his Tuesday night shift and was driving
them home.

“Chris, have you ever seen guts?” Sara asked from
the back seat.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “Sometimes I even have to
touch guts.”

Sara groaned with disgust, smiling at the same time.

“What’s the grossest thing you’ve ever seen?” she
asked.

“Sara,” Abby chided.

“No, it’s okay,” Chris said. “I’d say the grossest
thing was when this little boy drank green paint and when we pumped his stomach
he puked bright green.”

“Eww,” Sara said, looking impressed. They had pulled
into the driveway, and Chris walked inside with them. Kathy was lying on the
couch, and Abby cringed.

“There’s my doctor!” Kathy said, smiling brightly at
him.

“Hi, Kathy.”

“Hey, I could use some more of that medicine you
prescribed me,” she said nonchalantly.

“You’ll have to see your doctor for that,” Chris
said. Kathy narrowed her eyes and looked back at the TV.

Chris had to leave soon to make it to work by seven,
and Abby was holding her breath, wondering if she was actually going to survive
this.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said.

“It was fun. Come see me later if you’re up late.”

“Don’t you have to go whore yourself out tonight?”
Kathy said, not looking away from the television.

“No, I don’t work at the club Tuesdays,” Abby said.

“You do know she’s a whore, right?” Kathy asked
Chris. His eyes widened and he looked into the kitchen, where Audrey and Sara
sat together at the table, within earshot.

“Mom,” Abby said.

“Well, he should know. Does he know you fucked your
own stepfather?”

Abby buried her face in her hands, mortified.

“She tried to steal my husband,” Kathy said to
Chris, as if talking about something completely normal. “It’s why my other
daughters don’t have their father here anymore.”

Chris leveled his eyes at Kathy, looking more
shocked than angry, and led Abby outside without saying anything.

“What the fuck is wrong with her?” he asked. “Does
she treat you that way all the time?”

“Pretty much. I’m used to it. I’m sorry she said
those things in front of you.”

“Abby, the problem is that she says them at all.
What kind of mother treats her daughter that way?”

She shook her head, looking away. Chris kissed her
forehead gently, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

“Come see me at work later, okay?” he said.

Chris’ face fell as he glanced at his pager. He gave
Abby an apologetic look and tossed the last handful of sunflower seeds he was
eating into his mouth. They had been talking on the couch of the lounge where
the hospital staff took breaks.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I need to get home to bed
anyway, it’s after midnight.”

As they made their way down the hall to the main
area of the ER, Abby was alarmed by the panicked sound of a screaming man,
mixed in with the shouting voices of others.

Chris moved past her and Abby shrank back with
uncertainty. She didn’t know any other way out of the ER, so she put her head
down and made her way along the wall, trying to be inconspicuous.

“That’s my wife! That’s my wife!” a man was yelling,
his voice angry and forlorn. Abby’s eyes were drawn to his stout figure
crouched over a bed.

“Sir, you have to move away so the doctor can work,”
a young nurse in blue scrubs said, gently nudging him. He clung to the edge of
the bed in terror.

A security guard made his way over, taking the man’s
shoulders and helping him step back. Abby gasped when she saw the woman on the
stretcher, whose head was covered in blood. Her hair and face were soaked with
it, and she lay immobile.

“Gina!” the man screamed, sounding as if he was in
pain.

Chris climbed atop the bed, straddling the woman and
doing compressions on her chest. Abby pressed herself back into the wall,
absorbed by the scene around her. She felt like she shouldn’t be there, but it
seemed impossible to just walk out.

She scooted along the wall toward the door as the
despondent man paced frantically, pulling at his hair and crying. He stopped at
the wall and Abby found herself right next to him. Her heart pounded as she
stood, frozen.

As the woman was whisked down the hallway on the
rolling bed, the man stared after her, his mouth open. His face was wet with
tears, and Abby’s heart twisted with sadness for him. He looked older than her,
though not by much.

As the silence grew, Abby looked around, wondering
who was going to come help this man. He was all alone, and he looked terrified.

As he burst into a fresh round of tears and covered
his face with his hands, she couldn’t help reaching an arm around his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “Is there anything
I can do? Someone I can call for you?”

He shook his head and sniffed loudly.

“Her parents live in Arizona,” he said. “We were
just driving home from a party and this truck hit us out of nowhere. I didn’t
have a drink all night. God…Gina.”

Abby squeezed her arm around his shoulders and he
turned toward her for a hug. She hugged him back, grateful she could do
something to help ease his pain. Her face got pressed into his flannel shirt,
which had a strong smell of smoke.

“Would you like to sit down?” she asked, rubbing her
palm against his back.

“I should go in there and see how she is,” he
mumbled. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Abby walked beside him as he followed the path the
bed had been wheeled down. They both looked around, confused by the many doors
and curtains.

“There’s a desk around the corner. We can ask
there,” she said, leading the way.

“Where’s my wife?” he asked a nurse who was typing
on a computer.

“What’s her name?” she asked, distracted with her
work.

“Gina Foust,” he said, choking back tears.

“She’s in the operating room. You can wait right
down the hall there, and the doctor will let you know what’s going on as soon
as he can.”

“Can’t I go in with her?”

“No, I’m sorry, you can’t.”

He stepped back, looking dumbfounded and lost. Abby
put an arm around his shoulders, leading him to the waiting room. He sighed as
he sank into a padded chair, and Abby wondered if she should stay or go.

“We’ve only been married two years,” the man said,
shaking his head.

“What’s your name?” Abby asked, trying to distract
him.

“Brian.”

She sat down next to him and he put his head in his
hands, crying quietly.

“She’s my whole world,” he said through his tears.
“We’re going to have a baby.”

Abby pressed a hand to his back, wishing she knew
what to say. It felt like time stopped as they sat, waiting. She was relieved
when Chris walked into the room. His green scrubs were splattered with blood,
and Abby thought of how not just her work, but nearly everyone’s, paled in
comparison to what he did. He gave her a quick look of surprise, but said
nothing.

As Chris approached, Brian reached for Abby’s hand,
crushing it with his grip. The tension coming from him was palpable. She
pressed her other hand on top of his, offering silent reassurance.

“Mr. Foust,” Chris said, pulling up a chair to sit
in front of him.

“Is my wife okay?” he asked, panicked. Chris met his
eyes.

“Your wife sustained very serious head injuries. I’m
very sorry to tell you that she didn’t make it,” Chris said, laying a hand on
Brian’s knee.

The wail that escaped Brian clutched at Abby’s
heart. Tears fell down her cheeks as she stared at Chris, shocked.

“No, no, no! Not Gina,” Brian cried.

“Mr. Foust, would you like to see her?” Chris asked
gently. Abby looked at him, horrified. Surely it would only compound Brian’s
grief to see his wife like that.

“Yes,” Brian said, wiping his cheeks clear and
sounding calmer. “I want to see her.”

A woman Abby hadn’t seen before stepped toward them
from the back of the room.

“This is Darlene,” Chris said. “She’s a social worker
here, and she’s going to take you to see your wife.”

“Are you a family member?” Darlene, a soft-spoken,
dark-skinned woman, asked Abby.

“Actually, she’s with me,” Chris said.

“I just didn’t want him to be alone,” Abby
explained, embarrassed. Brian gave her a weak smile.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I’ll take you to see your wife now,” Darlene said,
leading Brian from the room.

As they left, Chris pulled off his bloody scrub shirt,
leaving him in just a white t-shirt. Abby threw herself into his arms. She
closed her eyes, inhaling the clean scent of him mixed with his woodsy cologne.

“You have such a good heart,” he whispered in her
ear.

“So do you,” she said, her lips lingering against
his neck. Her arms closed around him tightly as she thought about Brian and
Gina. Life was fragile, and thinking of that made it hard to let go of Chris.

Sam had lost weight, and Abby was concerned as she
looked at her from behind. The bones on her back were getting more prominent.
Her hair had lost its shine, and she looked tired all the time anymore.

“How’s it going?” Abby asked as she approached.

“Fine.”

“Do you want to get spray tans and lunch together
sometime soon?”

“Yeah.” Sam shrugged.

“I’m worried about you. Is there something I can do
to help? I’m a good listener.”

“I’m okay.” Her eyes darted around the room, and
Abby wondered what she was looking for. “You’d better get out to the floor, I’ll
be there soon.”

Abby sighed as she turned to leave. It was hard to
watch someone in a downward spiral, but she had seen it before. She hoped Sam
would be able to find a way back up.

The club was alive with activity, and Abby scanned
the crowd as she adjusted her bright red bra. A man at a table of middle-aged
men waved her over, and she made her way to him. He handed her a folded bill,
and Abby tucked it away.

“I can touch you, but you can’t touch me,” she
recited.

“I know the drill,” he said, his eyes fixed on her
breasts. He’d be an easy customer, Abby thought gratefully. She could check
out, do the dance, and move on.

She was halfway through the dance, hovering over her
customer’s lap, when her attention was drawn to a nearby table. Her eyes
widened in horror as she recognized three nurses and two doctors from the
Benedict Emergency Room. They were all staring at her, and only one had the
grace to look away when she saw them.

Her heart pounded with nervous embarrassment. She
was more embarrassed for Chris than for herself. He would be the object of
everyone’s gossip and judgment.

She didn’t want to look back at them, but she
unconsciously turned their way again, and saw two of the women snickering at
her. Shame flooded her, and Abby desperately wanted to refund her customer’s
money and get away.