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“Turned this respectable hospital into a damn zoo. He had a second panic attack and nearly gave two of the male nurses a concussion when they tried calming him down. Then he ran amok and broke into one of the storage rooms and stole a scalpel. He was trying to carve Autumn on his forearm before security stopped him.”
“Oh no...,” I pant and my chest swirls from the discomfort, “I’m sorry, Hilma.”
“Aint your fault, Chrissy,” she comforts, putting a hand on my shoulder and I nod.
I blame the meds and the coma for John’s irrational behavior. The John I know...well, the John I witnessed was calm, cool and collected. He didn’t seem like they type who’d had a single heated emotion in his life. Now, he’s nothing but heat and I pinch my lips. What am I going to do with him?
Leaning against the wall, Hilma tiredly sighs. “He’s finally calmed down but you better pay him a visit before he tries setting himself on fire or something.”
I want nothing more than to see him again and Hilma gets a curious glimmer in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Just nudges me toward the day room. I find John sitting in his wheel chair by the windows with an oxygen mask over his face. His eyes are hooded as if he’s tired from last night’s shenanigans but his fists are clenched as if there’s still some fight in him.
He jerks when he notices me, eyes flooding with a relief that almost makes me teary. Tearing the mask off, he throws it to the side and it knocks over a cup with apple juice. With a passionate hiss he rises brutally out of his chair and it rolls backward, the wheel ramming over the foot of a man who’s sitting on a couch and watching TV.
“Ouww...! Watch what the hell you’re doing!” the man growls but John pays no attention to him.
He’s seen me now. And he can’t see anything else.
His chest heaves from his ragged breaths and he looks authoritative even in his hospital gown. And potent. So much potency in him he’d put a sperm whale to shame. Licking my lips, I walk over to him and he snatches me even before I’m close enough.
“Finally,” he growls and his eyes narrow. “You pretty, little witch...do you have any idea what your absence’s been doing to me?”
“Don’t call me a witch!” I cry silently.
“What else should I call you when you leave me that easily?”
Looking into his eyes, I whisper. “It wasn’t easy.” My gaze goes to his forearm and I pale at the sight of the furious A that he managed to mark his skin with. Rolling my eyes, I groan, “You’re such a whacko.”
His eyes flash with defiance. “You say that but you should know my first instinct was to carve your name on my forehead.”
“Geez...,” I pant. “What drugs did they give you?”
A look of pride colors his face. “Didn’t take any. Bit their hands when they tried feeding them to me.”
Groaning, I rub my neck. Seems like I got here just in time. “You need some fresh air. Maybe that’ll help you think clearly.”
“My thinking’s just fine,” John snarls but that’s debatable. I insist that he takes the wheelchair with him. At first he refuses, wanting to look strong in front of me but I’m too scared he’ll collapse and I threaten with taking another patient for a walk instead of him if he declines. That gets him to agree. And he growls when I spread a blanket over his legs but he doesn’t rip it apart between his teeth like I thought he would.
At least that’s something.
Pushing the wheelchair down the hallway, I stop to greet a colleague of mine. He’s a volunteer too and about my age. Opening my mouth to chit chat, I tense when John barks,
“Move along, you fucking fetus. She belongs to me.”
Mortified, I scold him after my colleague runs off. “John! You can’t talk like that to people.”
“He got all excited when he saw you. Could see the little dork in his pants getting all eager. He wants you.”
Baffled, I groan, “No, he doesn’t. You’re just irrational.”
“Don’t hold it against me,” he sulks. “I have nothing. All I have is the memory of you to cling to.”
Wow, that’s true. And he does have it rough. “You’re right,” I whisper. “You need so much support and care right now. I won’t scold you anymore.”
His eyes wickedly flash and he nods as if pleased. I push him farther and his hair shines like ink under the ceiling lights. Unable to help myself, I thread my fingers through it and John lets out a groan, leaning his head back. The sound makes my whole body jitter and I quickly withdraw my hand.
Once in the park, I push him around but he starts sulking, muttering something about feeling emasculated. He’s being silly. Considering the hard time he’s given everyone, he can’t be that feeble. Nope, there’s a ton of fight in him and I drag a shaky breath.
This is my last day with him. After my shift, I’m leaving town.
