Slider (Core Four Book 2) Page 7

“He loves her,” I announced out of the blue.

  They all turned in my direction. My eyes got big and I raised my hands in the air. “What? I’m just saying.”

  Keegan stepped beside me, unable to remove her permanent smile. “Oh that boy has loved her since the day we walked into Camden’s apartment. But both have a stubborn streak a mile long. They will fight their feelings ‘til one of them breaks. That much we all know. Maybe the alcohol, just for tonight, is what they need.”

  “Or a good orgasm or two.” Wrigley twitched his eyebrows.

  Camden slapped the back of his head. “Do girls actually like you?”

  “They flock to me,” he said, fixing his hair.

  “Right,” Camden retorted.

  Stepping back into my little bubble, Turner asked me again, “So about that date.”

  I gulped and glanced around. All eyes were on me. Keegan and Camden appeared curious as to what they missed. “Can we talk about this privately, please?” I tried to say under my breath.

  “Nope.”

  I wanted to glare, but Wrigley jumped in again with his unwanted commentary. “Would you please put my big, pathetic brother out of his misery and just go on a date with him?”

  Ever have one of those times in your life where you felt like the world just pauses and waits for you to figure out what in the hell is going on? I was in one right now. A date sounded nice, it really did. I haven’t been on one in a couple of years. In fact, the last one I went on was my first year in college and I was pretty certain the guy wasn’t very interested in girls. Probably why I said yes in the first place. He was safe. Turner makes me nervous. He’s the furthest thing from conventional. Let’s not forget he has been with half the hospital staff.

  Besides the music playing around us, you could probably hear a pin drop waiting for me to answer. No pressure. Looking into his sparkling blue eyes, something in my gut said to take a leap. I may be scared, but I had a feeling Turner wouldn’t do something that would make me uncomfortable.

  “Okay.”

  His smile dropped a little. “Yeah?”

  Did he really think I’d refuse?

  “Yes.”

  That smile came back in full force. “I’ll pick you up next Saturday at five.”

  Whoa, he wasn’t giving me much time to realize what I’d just done. “Where are you taking me?”

  Everyone who was standing around us scattered. Apparently they felt the need to give us privacy now. His face changed from happy to devious and troublesome.

  “Don’t worry about it. But you’ll want to wear jeans and a tank top or something with short sleeves.”

  Crap. “Okay, I can do that.”

  He tapped his hand on the bar, and took a drink that had been sitting beside me. It looked like a whiskey and coke. “Thanks, buddy,” he said to the bartender over my shoulder. “See you next week.” He winked and walked away like he just won the lottery.

  I looked around me wondering if anybody saw the exchange that just took place. Scrubbing a hand down my face, I sighed. Why did I have a feeling I just agreed to something that would make me question my sanity? Something in my peripheral caught eye. Turning towards the pool house, Macie came walking out, adjusting her dress and smoothing her hair back. She looked like she was thoroughly satisfied. What that must feel like . . . It’d been a long time since I’d had that. But I’ll say this right now, Turner Brooks isn’t getting that from me. No flipping way. I don’t care how attractive he was, or how much he could smooth talk. If he thought this date was going to end in me moaning his name, he was going to be going home very disappointed.

  “A PATIENT WAS JUST BROUGHT into room 213. She’s eight centimeters, and seems to be moving along quickly.” One of the nurses was informing me of the patients on the floor. She was getting off shift as I was coming on.

  “Okay. She the only one we got right now?”

  “We just had a delivery in 215 but, I’ll to wheel her into recovery before I leave. And about the momma in 213, she’s an addict. We tried to stop the labor because she’s only thirty-three weeks along, but it didn’t work. We’re still waiting on toxicology to come back with everything she’s taken, but she’s not in good shape. Angry and belligerent. So be careful when you go in there. We’ve considered restraining her.”

  Great. I’ve only dealt with one other drug addict before when I’ve been working. She had drank through her whole pregnancy and had started using meth in her last month. Fortunately, the baby had no ill effects.

  “Okay, thanks.” I picked up her chart and read through everything they knew about her. Looked like they believed she was a meth user, and maybe some sort of depressant. Wonderful. I could only imagine what I was about to walk in on. The neonatal floor was going to need to be called. Lord knew what kind of shape the baby was going to be in. “Oh,” I said before she walked away. “Have they done an ultrasound to see if baby has anything we need to be worried about besides the obvious?”

  “Yeah, he’s just a little smaller than we’d hoped. I gave her a steroid injection to help with his lungs about three hours ago, but who knows if it will help.”

  “Alright.” I studied the chart, received the tox report, and walked down the hall.

  She was screaming before I even opened the door. Her blood work came back positive to methamphetamines and alcohol. This poor baby was going to be a mess.

  “Ms. March? Hi, I’m Annabelle, your nurse.” I went to her IV to check her fluids.

  “Where the hell is the bitch that said she’d give me something for this pain?”

  I looked up at her. “She just got off her shift. If you need something to take the edge off, I’ll get that for you.”

  She snapped. “The fucking edge? I don’t want to feel any of this. Now give me the fucking drugs.”

  I didn’t do well with people screaming at me. “I can’t have an epidural administered, Ms. March. You have too many drugs in your system that it could hurt the baby. I’m only able to give you something mild to help with the pain.”

  She swung her arms around almost ripping the IV out. A contraction wracked her frail, weak body, and she cried with the pain. “Give me something. I can’t do this.”

  I left the room briefly to get her something to help control her pain, but I knew she was too far along for it to really do anything. Pushing it through her IV, another contraction hit causing her to curl in on herself.

  “Get this fucking thing out of me!” she shrieked.

  “Do you mind if I call you Adalyn?”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Okay, Adalyn, I need you to listen to me. I’m going to lay you back so I can check to see if you’re ready to push. If you give me everything you’ve got and it’s time to push, all this pain you’re feeling will go away.”

  “Then fucking do it,” she growled at me.

  I wished I could throw the bed back faster than it would electronically move. She was ticking me off with her attitude. I’d been yelled at by other patients, but never out of rudeness. This was just insane.

  I got her flat, and checked her cervix for dilation. Sure enough, she was ready. I called another nurse to come in and assist me, and then the doctor when the baby was far enough down the birth canal. We paged the NICU to bring a team down. I wasn’t trained to the capacity that I’d need for a special needs baby. When the full team was ready and set up, Adalyn pushed a couple more times and out came a tiny baby boy. Physically he appeared fine, other than he was definitely smaller than his thirty-three week gestation. But how he really was, I didn’t know. The NICU got him stable in the room, and put him in an incubator and wheeled him out of the room. Chances were, Adalyn wouldn’t be seeing her baby for a day or two. Not even sure she would care. She pushed him out thirty minutes ago and still hadn’t bothered to ask about him.

  “Adalyn, do you have a name for your son, so I may put it in his records?”

  She gave me a glassy eyed stare. “I don’t fuckin’ care what you call him.
Just give me somethin’ for this damn pain I’m still in.”

  There wasn’t much that shocked me these days, but that made my mouth drop open. “Did you know you were having a boy? We can leave it all blank for now until you figure out what you’d like to call him.”

  She waved her hand at me, dismissing me. “Mistake. How about that? Name him Mistake. If I hadn’t gotten knocked up with the little shit, I wouldn’t be here bleeding, and sore.”

  I gritted my teeth. Looking at the doctor whom was currently stitching her up from the small tear from pushing, he shook his head telling me to let it go. I needed a breather.

  I asked the other nurse who was remaining quiet, as she cleaned up. “You mind if I step out?”

  The look on my face must’ve said it all. “Go ahead, I’ve got this.”

  I dropped the basin I’d been holding in my hand on the bedtable and shoved out the door. Making my way to the stairs, I sat down and put my head in my hands. What in the hell was wrong with some people? I know drugs mess you up really bad, but this was beyond anything I could even comprehend. That was an innocent baby. One that wasn’t asked to be conceived and brought into this world in pain. The kid was going to have a long road ahead of him. He was nameless and had a mother that was more interested in her next high than asking if he had all ten fingers and all ten toes. Sometimes I really hated people.

  I was nervous. Why in the hell was I nervous. I’d been out on hundreds of dates, and never once would you catch me with sweaty palms. Wiping them on my pants for the millionth time, I pulled up to Annabelle’s house and got out of the car. This girl, made me curious. I knew nothing about her except the little bit she’d let slip here and there. Women were normally very forthcoming and wanted to talk about themselves, but Annabelle didn’t. Her life remained private, and it was like a scavenger hunt getting the information out of her. Knocking, she answered right away, the gust of wind from the door blowing her perfume scent across my face. Cotton candy. She smelled like delicious cotton candy, and all I wanted to do was taste her to see if she was just as sweet.

  “Hi.” She gave me a shy smile.

  “Hi. You look beautiful,” I complimented, my eyes roaming from her head to her flip flop clad feet. She was about a foot shorter than me, and had a tiny waist. She didn’t have large boobs, but definitely a good handful. But that ass . . . and that ass in those jeans. My God, I was an ass man, and hers was perfection.

  “Thank you.” She stood in the doorway awkwardly, looking like she was waiting on something. “Sooooo, are we going?”

  Jesus, I was staring. The poor thing couldn’t even move to get around me. “Oh, yes. But you might want to change into tennis shoes. Sorry, I should have been specific with everything.” She reached inside and grabbed some pink and black Nike’s and held them in her hand. Okay, let’s do this. Opening the passenger door, she climbed into my black Corvette, and got herself situated. “Comfortable?”

  “Mhmm.”

  I went around to my side and started the car. The purr of the engine got me every time.

  “So, you know anything about cars?” I asked, trying to drop hints where I was taking her.

  She looked perplexed. “No, not really. Why?”

  “Just wondering.” I smiled.

  “You going to tell me where we are going?”

  “I will when we get there.”

  Her small hands were gently lying in her lap. I wanted to reach over and touch the milky white skin to see if it was as soft as it looked, but I refrained. Trees, and a few city buildings whizzed by as I drove to the south side of Athens. The radio was playing quietly in the background, and I’d only hoped she like country music.

  “Okay, I want to play a little game so we can get to know each other a little better. You down?”

  Her blue eyes peaked over at me. “Sure. As long as it’s not too personal.”

  “What do you think is personal?”

  “Turner.” She said my name like she was scolding me. My date was feisty. Good.

  I chuckled. “Okay, let’s stick to the basics. What’s your favorite color?”

  “Green. Yours?”

  “Black.”

  “Black isn’t a color,” she shot back.

  “It is today, go with it. What’s your favorite food?”

  She paused. “Crab legs. But not any crab legs, it’s got to be snow crab.”

  Interesting. Most girls said pizza or chocolate. “Mine is steak. Now it’s your turn.”

  “My turn?” she asked inquisitively.

  “Yes. I just asked the last two questions. Now it’s your turn.”

  “Okay. Hmmm . . . ” She tapped her pointer finger on her chin. God, she was cute. “What’s your favorite cereal?”

  “Now you’re talkin’. One of my favorite food groups.” She giggled. “Fruity Pebbles, but without milk.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s a kid’s cereal. I like it.”

  “It is not. I happen to be a very grown man, and I love the stuff. In fact, I carry a box with me everywhere for a snack.”

  She gave a full bellied laugh. “No, you don’t. That’s silly.”

  To prove her wrong I told her to open the glove box in front of her. She did. Right in front was a snack size box of cereal. “See.”

  “Way to prove me wrong.” Her laugh was musical. “Don’t you get tired of it?”

  “No way.”

  “Hmmm.” She hummed.

  “Give me another one.”

  “Do you like being the oldest brother?”

  “Good question,” I praised. “It has it’s pluses and minuses. As the oldest, I was the guinea pig for my parents. Whatever worked or didn’t work with me, they did with my brothers. But I was also never babied like the other three.”

  “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, but it’s true. Mom and Dad were hard on me and expected me to lead by example. Sometimes I wished that they would make their own mistakes and I could do what I wanted to without being watched all the time.”

  She nodded and the car got quiet except for the AC blowing. It wasn’t that the silence was uncomfortable, but I had a feeling she preferred conversation over silence.

  “You are an only child?” I glanced at her.

  “How much further?” She rushed out.

  Was my question to nosey? I turned my head in her direction. Trying to decide if I should push or change the subject, I thought it best to let it go and answer her.

  “We’re here.”

  She straightened up in her seat. Parking, I watched her eyes get wide as she realized where we were. I parked in my usual spot in front of the Athens Speedway Racetrack.

  “Are we watching race cars?”

  “No.” I paused. “We’re driving them.” I gave her a devilish grin.

  Her head started shaking and her pupils dilated. “Turner, I can’t drive a racecar.”

  My brows came together. “Why not?”

  “Because they’re dangerous, that’s why.”

  “Mhmm, that’s what makes them so fun.”

  I got out of the car, refusing to let her keep arguing with me. I knew this was an unconventional date, but something told me, she needed this. I’d picked up on some of her discomfort when it came to pushing boundaries. Annabelle may not know this, but I’ve been watching her. I learned her parents died in a car accident but I still don’t know if she was in the vehicle with them. She told me about the house, but I wanted to know more. I needed to know more. My little rule follower was going to step out of her shell for a day.

  Coming around to her side I opened the door. She took my hand, and immediately released it when she stood on her own. It’s okay, I planned on getting closer than hand holding later.

  Annabelle stayed quiet as she followed me inside the building, and I led her out to the track where a gorgeous racecar sat fueled up and ready to go. A pit crew was off to the side and suits hung on a line near the car. I snagged
one and held it out to her. She stood with her long strawberry blonde hair blowing in the slight breeze, and her arms crossed over her chest. Did she realize when she did that it pushed her breasts up on display for my viewing pleasure? I felt my dick stirring in my pants as I shifted on my feet to try and readjust. Didn’t work.

  “Throw this on. You want me to drive first or do you want to go?” I asked.

  She flipped her hair over her shoulder in pure defiance. “Turner, you can’t be serious.”

  I hid my smile and pegged her with a hard stare. “I’m very serious. Put the suit on.”

  Her mouth dropped. “You’re awfully bossy, you know that?”

  “Yes, I do. Now put it on so I can show you how to do this.”

  She wanted to argue with me, but I was leaving no room for it. I took my suit and pulled it on. She hesitated before she mimicked what I was doing. I could have sworn I heard her grumbling under her breath. It was kind of cute. Once she was set, my old buddy from years back approached us.

  Reaching out I took his hand and shook it. “Evening, Richard.”

  “Turner. You ready to go for a spin?” He looked at both of us.

  Annabelle was wringing her hands in front of her. I wanted to soothe her and tell her it was going to be okay, but I wanted to get her alone and in the vehicle first.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Alright, well, the track is all yours. Pit crew will be waiting on the side ‘til y’all are done. Have fun, and burn some rubber.” He chuckled.

  When he walked away, Annabelle leaned over to me. “Burn rubber?”

  I couldn’t hide my smile this time. “Yes, ma’am. That was my friend, Richard. Known him for a long damn time. He closes the place down sometimes when I want to come get some aggression out.”

  I swallowed. “Sounds ominous.”

  “Nah, come on.” This time I did grab her hand. “This is an old NASCAR Sprint Cup race car. She was driven in the Brickyard 500 two years ago and then she was retired. Pretty sure I’m one of the few that still drives her, other than Richard.”

  She watched as my free hand tenderly caressed the hood of the car. “And uh, is she yours?”