Page 24 of Taking Root

Chapter Twelve

“Time of death, two-thirty p.m.” The words left Adrian’s throat, but he wasn’t there. He was a million miles away, not staring at the pale, dead body of a twenty-seven-year-old woman who should’ve had more time. Carmen bustled around him, pulling tubes and needles, all in mechanical motions. Adrian stared, dumb and useless in the wake of the pronouncement.

They’d done everything they could to save her.

At least, that’s what he’d be telling the family, even if the doubts and guilt threatened to consume him alive.

“I’m going to step out,” Adrian announced, his voice feeling separate from his body. “I’ll handle calling the family.” Carmen glanced to him, her lips thin and her big eyes glazed with emotion. He clapped a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She offered a forced smile in return, but any time death stole someone young so fast, the tragedy rocked them.

Nivea Johnson should’ve had a whole life before her, a loud and large future to fit her sparkling laugh. Except the E-coli outbreak, which had been so resolvable for so many cases, swept through her like a wildfire. Every attempt they made to counter the disease, the bacteria spread to other regions, causing more and more trouble. It could’ve been her compromised immune system from fibromyalgia, or the history of diseases hitting her harder than others, but today, the fight blinked out of her eyes.

Adrian walked up and down the halls, pressure throbbing behind his temples and his throat tightening. He’d dealt with death before, but most times it involved elderly who had been fading with each passing day or patients wracked in terrible pain for too long where death offered relief from their misery. Watching the families grieve always grabbed him by the throat—too often, he imagined what it would be like dealing with his own family in the same situation—but those didn’t haunt him.

Not the way this would.

The senseless deaths, the absolute waste of life kept him awake, the ones who’d crop up in his mind at any moment. He’d spent his life wanting to help others whether it was his family, his patients, or even Betty during their time together. One refrain continued to crop up—the absolute, spiraling helplessness. Over the years, the need to control sank deeper claws into him until his attempts became as intrinsic as breathing.

His footsteps reverberated through the hall, the click, click, click echoing in his mind. The sterile scent of the hospital didn’t bother him most days, but right now it nauseated him.

And these were the sort of burdens he didn’t like sharing with the family because the outpouring of emotion he’d get would be too much. He wasn’t going to talk about it with his friends either. When you met up every month or so, bringing up tragic deaths guaranteed to kill the vibe. Tonight, Danny planned on coming to his house, and to be honest, he had no idea how to deal with her either.

Part of him was tempted to call her and cancel while another part of him needed to see her like he needed to breathe. Except the closer he got to her, the more her vagueness and roundabouts in the conversation grated on him. She’d always said from the beginning this couldn’t be anything serious, but his heart hadn’t caught the memo. And after the way he’d opened up to her, the shut door he faced at any mention of the past or family ended up paring away at his determination each passing day.

He should call and cancel. Really, he should.

Adrian slumped against the wall, staring at the fluorescents overhead. All he could see was Nivea’s blank expression. Her mouth open, like she’d been in the middle of a conversation. Not fair. It wasn’t fair.

“Fuck,” Adrian cursed, slamming his fist into the wall. His chest burned, and he stalled out like an engine, wheels spinning and spinning. The impact reverberated up his arm, but the ache in his bones did little to stave the pressure inside. He shook out his hand and pushed up from the wall. Not like he had the luxury of stewing in his head for too long. He had the rest of his shift to finish out.

He had Nivea’s family to call.

***

On a normal day, a shower after his shift was the exact refresher Adrian needed. The hot water pounded against his shoulders, his back, and he shoved his face into the stream, praying it’d blast away the rage burning inside him. The coals had been stoked after losing the patient earlier, and they continued to burn in this helpless sort of anger he couldn’t fix. No amount of logic could be spackled onto the situation, and he’d thrown himself into the minutiae of the job, rolling through the day on autopilot.

The nurses had taken to avoiding him with how one-word and terse he’d become. Once he got home, he tugged out his delivery menus and ordered a pizza. He’d cram a couple of slices, kick back a beer, and go the fuck to bed.

Adrian scrubbed the shampoo out of his hair and turned the faucet off, clouds of steam drifting around the bathroom. He ran the towel through his strands before wrapping it around his waist.

“Hello?” a voice called out from his foyer. “I let myself in.”

Adrian froze in the middle of the hallway. Shit. He’d forgotten to call and cancel on Danny. Before he came to his senses and responded, she stepped into view at the end of the hallway.

“Adrian?” she asked, peering around the entrance. She stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of him, and he didn’t miss the once-over as her gaze traveled up, down, and back again. Heat traveled straight to his cock, and the flimsy towel around his waist wouldn’t do shit to hide his erection.

“Lost track of time,” he apologized. “I’m going to save myself from endless embarrassment by quick-stepping it to my room to throw some clothes on.”

He made the mistake of glancing to Danny, who chewed on her lower lip. Adrian wanted to bend her over and fuck her into oblivion. Not while his head buzzed like this. He needed to rein in those impulses or he would do something he’d regret. Without another word, he walked down the hallway to his bedroom and slipped inside.

His heart hammered in his chest at the sudden surprise, and he leaned in to press his forehead against the surface of the door. Why had he forgotten? Oh yeah, because after his patient died, they rushed a suicide attempt in, followed by a couple of teens injured in a drunk driving accident before the end of his shift. Talk about a wrecking ball of a day. He wanted to be comatose right now, not entertaining.

Obi-Wan slunk up to him and began headbutting his leg. He held onto that one thread of affection right now, the glow of those malachite eyes. Adrian leaned down to brush his hand across his cat’s fur.

Christ Almighty, he’d tried so hard. He wanted to make Danny feel special and offer her reprieve from the loneliness clear as day in her eyes. So, he’d stifled his own urges to put a label on things and done his damn best to treat her the way she deserved. He walked over to slap some cologne on his neck and dragged on a pair of loose jeans before grabbing one of his plain tees from his dresser.

She was going to get the sloppy version of himself inside and out. Today couldn’t get worse. He yanked his shirt over his head and stepped out from his room, Obi-Wan slipping past him. Danny waited in the corridor, leaning against his wall and staring at the light fixture in the ceiling.

Her hungry eyes landed on him, a gorgeous shade of green he could lose himself in. Most days, the mere sight of her soothed the ache in his chest, but today, a tiger paced inside, waiting to sink its claws into the nearest target. She tugged on the end of her braid, her brows furrowing as she looked at him, like she sensed the tempest about to descend. Danny slipped a hand into the pocket of her torn jeans, the black shirt she wore clinging to her like a second skin. He wanted to take it off her with his teeth.

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