Lacy
I don’t respond right away as I sit on the hard, plastic bench, trying to find some relief for my aching back and throbbing feet. It’s no use. The only thing it does is make my ass hurt. Closing my eyes, I lean my head back, allowing the cold metal of the locker to chill my scalp. “I’m over here.”
When she rounds the corner, she lets out a huff, and I open one eye. Her blonde hair is in disarray, her clothing wrinkled, and the creases in her face tell me she’s pissed about something. By the looks of her, I would say her day was probably worse than mine.
“What are you doing here, Tracy? And why do you look like you just had a turn with the entire Atlanta Falcons football team?” My teasing tone is met with a sneer.
Smoothing her hands down her shirt does nothing to straighten the wrinkles. With a frustrated huff, she replies, “I work here too, remember?”
“Well, I’m not stupid. Of course I remember. I just meant what brings you to this part of the building? I thought you were working with Shelly on the second floor and your shift didn’t end until seven or so.”
Certified Nurse’s Assistant at a rehab facility was never something I would have considered, especially with a journalism degree. The change in career came when our mother fell ill. Watching firsthand the level of care she received was difficult. The inconsistencies were frequent, and the impact was both physical and mental. When she passed, I no longer had the drive to write. Instead, I wanted to help people, specifically recovering addicts. Since my sister was already a nurse at Magnolia Woods—the same rehab facility where our mother had been a patient—it was only fitting that I begged her to get me a job when a position became available.
She lowers her eyes, and whispers, “You know that patient in room two-fifteen, Mr. Craig?” I nod, urging her to continue. “I know he’s been aggressive to the other women nurses, and I’ve been in his room before with no issues, but I never expected…” her voice trails off, then she meets my eyes. “Today, when I handed him his medicine, I was too close, and his hand slid up the inside of my thigh and grabbed my crotch. I’m not talking lightly either. It hurt. When I tried to push his hand away, he caught my wrist, pulled me down, then wrapped both hands around my neck. Lacy, he was trying to choke me!” The creases from earlier disappears as her lips turn down and she wraps her arms around herself.
My eyes widen, and my mouth drops open. “What? Are you okay?” Although she nods, a tear makes its way over her cheek, and I sit straight up on the bench, meeting her gaze. “Are you sure?”
She wipes her nose with the hem of her shirt and nods again. “I-I’m o-okay. I’m just thankful Mack showed up when he did. Otherwise…well, I don’t know what would have happened. It took two orderlies and a sedative to restrain Mr. Craig.”
I stand, pull her to my side and give her a squeeze. “How about we head home? Then maybe we can meet for dinner and drinks later? I could sure use a drink, and you most certainly could too.”
She stares past me while tugging on her ID badge, the elastic cord stretching, then snapping back into place. Stretching and snapping. Stretching and snapping. “Sure, that sounds good.” She blinks a few times, shakes her head, and adds, “I have one last patient I have to check on, then I’ll just shower here and meet you at the restaurant.”
There’s only one patient I know she would stay here for, and last time I checked on that very patient, she wasn’t doing very well. “Mrs. Fitzgerald?”
“Yeah. I checked her chart today and the doctor indicated she’s not doing so well.” She heads for the door but tosses over her shoulder. “I’ll meet you in an hour or so.”
I’ve already turned and began pulling off my scrubs, but wave a hand over my head in her direction. I pull on a t-shirt and shimmy into some jeans. The clank of metal echoes through the room as I slam the locker door and sling my purse over my shoulder.
I’m almost to my car when the lyrics of Adele’s “Hello” flow from my purse, reminding me I really need to change my ringtone. Pushing around crumpled receipts, makeup, pads, and whatever else, my hand turns up empty. With a huff, I drop my purse on the ground, and yank it open. I find the phone tucked in a side pocket and I’m about to raise it to my ear when my hand stops midair. My eyes lock on a silhouette of a man standing near the trees. I narrow my eyes, focusing on his features. His waist is narrow, but his chest and shoulders are broad. When I move my gaze higher, my breath hitches, he’s looking this way, but I can’t make out any facial features. The dark shadow from a tree is shading his face, but his commanding stance makes the hair on my neck stand on end.
“Lacy, are you there? Hello? Lacy?”
“Someone’s watching me,” I whisper, my breathing coming in heavy pants as blood thunders through my veins. “I’m rushing to my car. Stay on the line, Troy. Just a sec.”
I jerk the handle of the car door, but my hand slips off, and I realize the door is still locked. With shaky hands, the keys jingle as I pull them from my purse and attempt to depress the unlock button on the keyless entry. Out of frustration, I forcefully yank on the handle, and almost drop on my ass when the door flings open.
Fumbling into the driver’s seat, I pull the door closed behind me, press the lock, and drop my head back as I let out a deep breath. “Troy, are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Well, no, not really. There was a man watching me. He was just standing there, staring. It really freaked me out.”
“Are they still there? Do you need me to fly down there and kick someone’s ass?”
“I’m not really sure if he’s still here, but I don’t plan on sticking around to find out.” With my hands still shaking, it takes several tries to get the key in the ignition, but once I do, the engine roars to life, taking some of the edge off my nerves.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should go back inside and call someone to come get you. I hate that you live so far.”
“I’ll be fine. My car doors are locked and I’m heading home now.” As I press the accelerator, a jolt from my Camaro sends gravel flying and my words come out on a stutter. “I-I’m s-sorry, Troy. I didn’t even ask what you called for.”
The exhale coming through the phone sounds like one of disappointment. “Nothing really. I hadn’t heard from you in a while…”
Troy’s words begin to fade as my mind drifts back to the stranger and what he was doing at Magnolia Woods. If he was there to see a patient, then he wouldn’t have hidden and there’s no way he was a patient. I’m familiar with all the patients at the facility and would have remembered one of his size. So, what was he doing there? A chill raises a series of bumps on my skin when I realize just how dangerous the situation could be. If he was there for me, he’ll most likely return to Magnolia Woods.
“Lacy? Are you still there? Can you hear me?”
The concern in Troy’s tone pulls me back. “I’m so sorry Troy, let me give you a call when I get home. I appreciate you checking in on me.” I disconnect the call without letting on that I hadn’t heard a thing he’d said. I’m sure I’ll get an earful later, but for now, I need to think.