He didn’t watch the clock, but when the Head of Surgery told him he’d done enough, he surrendered the field.
Robert sighed when he stopped, looked around, and saw Lillian Barnes, clutching her hands before her, sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting room, silently rocking, her face ravaged by grief.
He went to her and sat down next to her. He didn’t know what to say. The times he’d had to comfort or inform next of kin all played before him, but this time, damn it all, this time was different.
Bobby had been different. Bobby, God help him, had been
his
, and Robert had failed him.
She didn’t wait for him to say anything. “He wasn’t even involved,” Lillian said. “He was on the corner, coming home, and a couple of his old friends stopped him, just to chat. And then…and then he was just gone.”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Barnes.”
“The cops said I could sit here for a spell. I told them…I told them I wanted to thank you. For what you did for my Bobby. He talked about college. I was afraid to hope. But he kept talking about it.”
“I saw him this afternoon. I think he was going to apply for that scholarship. I think he was going to make you proud of him.”
She met his gaze, and then she reached out, touched his hand. He covered hers with his. “Thank you. Thank you. For bein’ a man who showed my boy he could be one, too.”
“Let me get you a ride home, Mrs. Barnes.”
“I…yes, please. I have to go home to Jimmy. I need to hold my Jimmy and tell him his brother is gone.”
For a long moment Robert just stood and stared at the doors, where he’d seen Lillian Barnes being helped—kindly, he noted—into an unmarked police car.
He couldn’t imagine the horror of losing a child. But he knew the horror of failure. He wondered if there was something he could have done differently. He felt raw, and on the edge of his limit.
It had slowly registered over the last half hour, that he could very well have been killed himself. That thug with the gun who had opened fire had been looking his way when he’d started shooting. Now that he thought about it, he’d heard the whiz of a bullet on a too-close trajectory.
Fuck, I have to get out of here
.
He needed a few hours of blessed peace. He needed to decompress.
“Excuse me.”
Robert turned at the sound of the voice. The man, black hair and silver-gray eyes, met his gaze. He looked vaguely familiar, and Robert realized he’d seen him and another man rush through the doors before he’d noticed Lillian Barnes. They’d seemed frantic, until they’d spotted the volunteer who’d been working with him so tirelessly. He’d wondered at the time who the men were, for they weren’t from this neighborhood. They looked like they came from money.
“Yes?”
“Doctor Jessop, I’m Jordan Fitzpatrick, Chastity’s husband. Words aren’t adequate, but I wanted to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for saving my wife’s life last night.”
Crap, it
is
morning.
Robert needed sleep. He brought his attention to the man standing before him, and his words. He started to protest the assumption—but then he realized that he had, indeed, done just that.
“No thanks are necessary, sir. Any gentleman would have done the same. Your wife has been a true angel of mercy this evening—a most valuable assistant.”
Fitzpatrick let that pass. He said, “You look exhausted.” Then he looked around the room. Cleaning crews had arrived, and the process had begun to return the ER to normal. “But then, who wouldn’t be after surviving a visit from Chaos.”
“It was all of that. I’ve been ordered out by my boss, so I will be getting rest, soon.”
David approached just then, and Robert introduced them. When Jordan looked behind him, the other man, who stood with his arm around Chastity Fitzpatrick, came forward.
Robert raised one eyebrow, because of the look that passed between the two men as Jordan introduced him as Marcus Jones-Fitzpatrick, his partner.
Jordan must have caught the expression on Robert’s face, for he said, “Did we just shock you, Dr. Jessop?”
Robert met David’s gaze. His brother nodded, telling him it was okay to be open. “Not at all, Mr. Fitzpatrick. David and I have two dads—they’re married to our mother. Where we come from, your family wouldn’t be considered odd at all.”
Fitzpatrick looked as if he was going to just end the conversation there, and Robert wouldn’t have blamed him in the least. His wife—their wife—appeared ready to collapse. But instead, Jordan surprised him. “Actually, I recognized the look on your face a bit ago as you headed toward that grieving woman. It’s a look that I used to see in the mirror often. You wore the look of a man who was having an understandable crisis—the kind that happens when the innate need to control meets the uncontrollable.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a card, quickly turned it over and wrote a number on it, then gave it to Robert.
“I can help you with that. That’s my cell number. Call me. Please.”
Robert thanked him, and once more stood and watched as people left the hospital.
“What’s on his card?”
Robert turned it over, and then showed it to David. He’d expected to see the man was an uptown psychiatrist. What he found couldn’t have been further from that.
Reckless Abandon
Jordan Fitzpatrick, Proprietor
The inscription struck a chord with Robert. He wondered why the name was familiar, and then he remembered where he’d heard it.
Reckless Abandon
was a very private, very exclusive BDSM club in a very upscale neighborhood in the city. Even as he recalled that, he had the sense that Mr. Fitzpatrick, whoever he was, represented yet another turning point in his life.
Present day
Jillian Gillespie pulled her faithful purple Neon up to the curb and let her eyes take in the well-kept apartment building that would officially, in just a few minutes, become her new home.
She’d only been to this small Texas town a few times in her life before today. Her most recent visit had come just two weeks ago. Every occasion she’d come to Lusty had been to see her Aunt Shirley.
Most often over the past several years, her aunt had visited her in El Paso, or they had gotten together in either Houston or Dallas. She and Shirley would meet for their semiannual shopping excursions, and to catch up on each others’ busy lives.
Jillian sighed. She was really going to miss her Aunt Shirley.
Now Shirley had retired and moved to Florida, likely already settled in close to Uncle Hal and Aunt Betty. And Jillian was here, in Lusty, Texas, getting ready to move in to her aunt’s vacated apartment
and
her vacated job.
Shirley had been planning to go into retirement and live next to her last surviving brother and his wife for the last few years. No one had been as surprised as Jillian when the older woman had declared, just a month before, that the time had come for her to do exactly that.
In truth, her aunt’s timing couldn’t have been better for Jillian. Recently rendered jobless by the closure of the small private clinic where she’d worked for the last five years, Jillian had been wondering if she was
ever
going to get another job in her chosen field.
She’d also been thinking lately that it was time for her to leave El Paso—and not just because she was having trouble finding a job that was a good fit. Around Christmastime, her ex-husband had begun calling her
and
calling on her. Apparently the novelty of wife number two had already worn off. Jillian had no intention of offering her ex any kind of comfort whatsoever.
“Been there, done that.” Jillian’s voice echoed in the car. She shook her head, turned off the engine, and exited the vehicle.
Her aunt, the one person who’d been there for her most of her life, had given her this golden opportunity to start over, and start over she would.
She’d left no forwarding address.
Movement near the front of the building drew her attention, and Jillian got out of her vehicle and headed toward the sidewalk. The man approaching her held an attaché case in his right hand, a cell phone in his left, and looked as if he could take on the world. If she hadn’t sworn off men for the rest of her natural life, she’d think he was a pretty hot-looking specimen of beefcake.
Oh, hell, Jill, he’s hot regardless of your vow and you know it
.
She didn’t think it would be considered rude if she ignored her inner imp.
He put his cell phone away and gave her a smile that made Jillian nearly regret her no-men-ever-again rule.
“You must be Ms. Gillespie. I’m Jake Kendall.”
“Ah. The lawyer. Hello.” Jillian offered him her hand. The earth didn’t move when he accepted her handshake, which was just as well. She did recall her aunt had told her that Jake Kendall was taken—if that was even what you called it here in Lusty.
So he’s off-limits regardless of my promise to myself. Good.
Jillian had only had the one relationship, as she’d married right out of high school and hadn’t dated since her divorce. There certainly hadn’t been much benefit for her in being part of a couple as far as she was concerned in the entire experience. At this point in her life, she sure as hell didn’t want another one.
Especially not in this town.
“You said the word lawyer as if it was like any other word. Thank you for that. For some reason, some folks like to make fun of us legal eagles.”
Jillian laughed, and realized that the man had put her at ease, just that simply.
“I have nothing against lawyers, Mr. Kendall. Someone has to make sense out of all that legalese so the rest of us can get on with life.”
“Jake, please. The apartment is on the ground floor, as you know. It’s a two bedroom.” He used his free arm to indicate that she could precede him to the front door of the building, which she did.
He quickly unlocked the front door, held it while she entered, and then walked with her to apartment 110. Jake continued to give her information as if she didn’t know anything about the place.
“It’s fully furnished, but if anything doesn’t suit, just let me know. We can arrange for you to visit the warehouse. There’s enough furniture and accessories there, you’re bound to find something you like. Or, of course, you can feel free to purchase anything you want for yourself. We’ll remove any unwanted items, no charge, of course.”
“Y’all are very accommodating. I appreciate it.” Her aunt had told her about the warehouse, and the way folks here had a habit of making newcomers feel welcome.
Shirley had also told her about the “alternative lifestyle” of many of the Lusty residents—pun definitely intended. Shirley had assured her that the women of this small Texas town were content to have two, or even three husbands—those that chose to do so.
All Jillian could imagine was two husbands equaled twice the work and twice the bullshit.
Thanks, but no thanks.
Still, she wasn’t one to cast aspersions. Everyone ought to be free to live how they wanted to live and love whomever they chose. This was, after all, supposed to be a free country.
Jillian stopped in front of the door to the apartment that had so recently been her aunt’s and waited while Jake Kendall unlocked the door. As soon as she entered, he handed her the key—or rather the keys, since there were four on the ring.
“The one with the black tab is for the outside door, and the brass-colored ones are for the clinic.”
The apartment smelled fresh and clean—cleaner than even her fastidious aunt had kept it. She also noticed that the living room carpet had been changed, and the walls freshly painted a soft eggshell.
“Someone’s done a lot in a short time. It really wasn’t necessary. The way Shirley left the place was fine with me.”
Jake Kendall waved that off, and then waited for her to sit at the kitchen table. “The Town Trust takes care of the properties it owns. Refreshing an apartment for a new tenant is standard operating procedure.” Then he smiled. “Everyone in town loved Shirley. The Doctors Jessop often said that she kept that clinic afloat single-handedly.”
Jillian smiled. “Shirley spoke well of them, and this town, too. I know that she really loved living here. She just wanted to be close to her brother. He’s getting on in years. My dad—her other brother—died several years ago, when I was just eight.”
“I understand your mother is gone, too, and that you’re divorced.”
Jillian didn’t mind Jake Kendall knowing all of that. These days, landlords had to be careful about who they took on as tenants. So she only said, “Yes, that’s right. I have one son. Brandon is twenty, and he’s in the Marines.”
Jake grinned. “Really? Good for him. I served in the National Guard, myself.”
Because her son was in the service, she said, “Thank you for your service.” She wished Jake Kendall would quit smiling at her. He really made her want to totally relax, and she didn’t think that would be a good idea just yet.
He seemed to somehow understand her slight discomfort, as he opened his case and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “This is a lease agreement, for one year. If you’d like to take a look—you’ll be happy to know there isn’t much legalese. We like to keep things simple, here.”