After Ryan’s impromptu days off, things were better than ever at home. Aimie couldn’t remember ever having felt as light as she did during the days following the visit to Ryan’s father.
Humming, she parked her car near the café she planned on writing in, and grabbed the lunch packages she’d made for River and Ryan, meeting the former outside of the hospital while he enjoyed a few rays of warm sunshine.
“Doc?” she called and he opened one eye, peeking down at her before grinning.
“My lunch lady,” he announced and hugged her for a long moment.
“What’s going on?” she asked and he grinned guiltily.
Following him to a bench, they sat down together while he checked his beeper, then folded his hands in his lap. “I’m in need of hugs. I guess I’m kind of lonely. It was different when Ryan and I worked side-by-side, together practically twenty-four-seven. You don’t realize how lonely you are until the one person you spent most of your time with suddenly rushes home, or spends his lunch break calling his wife because God forbid, they haven’t seen each other in more than two hours.” He grinned, but there was envy in his eyes.
Aimie loved the in-between calls because it made it more than clear Ryan was with her in his mind. “Well, there’s a lot to tell him about what my characters do. You know, they hardly ever behave, and—”
“—you’re writing naughty doctor stories and he needs to help out. I get it.” He nudged her with his shoulder and she laughed then stretched, the sun on her face pleasantly warm and comforting.
Her stomach rumbled loudly and she cowered into herself while River poked her belly.
“Hungry?” he chuckled.
“Oh God, that’s kinda embarrassing. I considered eating a sandwich when I prepared yours, but then I figured I could wait until I was at the café and have some of their triple-choc-cake.” Her mouth watered just thinking about it even while her stomach rumbled more.
“I should let you go,” River stated and then poked her stomach again.
“Hey, you’re hurting me,” she fussed playfully and he rubbed his palm across her tummy before bursting into laughter.
“I can’t remember the last time I had to rub someone’s belly to make them feel better. Did it at least help?”
She pouted, but then grinned. “I’m peachy, doc.” Together they stood and walked inside when Aimie remembered she’d left the bag with the sandwiches on the bench.
She turned, a woman shouldering into her. “Hey, watch it,” Aimie called and the woman glanced over her shoulder at her, eyes hollow, then turned away again and wordlessly left.
Shaking her head, Aimie grabbed the paperbag, hurrying after River past two securities who scrutinized her until River stepped forward, assuring them Mrs. Ryan Spencer wouldn’t be a threat to anyone but her husband’s hunger pangs.
“Creepy,” Aimie muttered as they walked down the hall together and River sighed.
“Necessary though. She tried to smuggle in a knife she’d brought. She thought I’d touched a patient indecently, that we had a love affair when all I’d done was help the woman up so she could sip her water without problems. I was around and found it stupid to call for a nurse only for that. My stalker took that as a sign there was something going on.”
Aimie could understand that. “I’m sorry. And scary. I wonder what caused her mental breakdown. Some people are weird.”
“Wife!”
“Speaking of weird,” River whispered conspiratorially, then grinned. “Ryan, so good to see you, man.”
He held out a hand, as if expecting Ryan to high-five him, but her husband didn’t even give his friend a second glance.
Instead he picked her up and kissed her, his tongue teasing her lips apart until she allowed him to sweep into her mouth, tasting her thoroughly, making her knees weak.
“Hi,” he whispered after having put her down.
“Hello, husband,” she greeted him, still in his arms, and yet on her own two feet without falling.
“Your wife’s hungry,” River announced. “Don’t keep her too long.”
With a wave River was off, his expression tinged with sadness, and Aimie groaned. “We should’ve been more considerate and waited with the P.D.A. until he was gone.”
“P.D.A.? You mean this?” Ryan’s hand vanished under her shirt as he drew her closer, slipping across her stomach on his way to her breasts when she stopped his hand and held it where it was, his palm hot against her skin.
“Not here. But you know, you should hold that thought until—”
Her hunger made itself known again and Ryan pulled his hand away. “Until you’re fed?” he joked and then kissed her forehead, taking the paper bag from her.
“I’ll see you tonight. I’m bringing Italian, so don’t plan on cooking. Write your time away, okay?”
She nodded, drawing him in for another kiss, then they separated, and although she knew he was going to be home in less than six hours, she couldn’t wait.
* * *
The water had to be spoiled, or maybe it was just one burger joint selling bad food, but either way, they dealt with a wave of food poisoning after Aimie had left. Ryan had forced down his sandwich more or less on the go while reading patient files, and yet was glad when River told him he’d take care of those patients as long as Ryan would cover everything else for a while.
Ryan didn’t mind. He wasn’t exactly keen on catching a virus in case it wasn’t just rotten meat.
There were more than enough people to deal with, as if suddenly every solider or veteran in Monterey and the surrounding areas had decided to break an arm, crack a toe, or hurt themselves in some way.
“What happened?” He pushed behind a curtain in the emergency room and found a guy of maybe twenty sitting there, his uniform torn at the knee.
“Corporal Connor sent me because I was supposed to help him repair cars and didn’t fix the lift arm right. The car gave way, and while it wasn’t too bad, jumping up in shock will cause injuries.”
Which, in this case, were cuts that needed stitches. “Is Corporal Connor doing okay?”
He definitely needed to call Jazz again to get together with the guys—and give the girls a chance to hang out.
Maybe he’d even offer for the guys to bring the kids along. That way he could see how he did with little kids. Maybe he’d like it. Maybe it would—
“Doc?”
He’d gotten lost in thought and the soldier in front of him didn’t appreciate that much.
“Yes, sorry. This needs stitches. I’ll get a nurse on it, then you’ll be fine, okay? If you go back to base, tell Corporal Connor ‘hi ‘from Ryan. And, soldier? Don’t crawl under a car unless you’re sure it’s safe. We’ll have your knee x-rayed just to make sure nothing worse happened, but again, you should be fine.”
He stood and didn’t wait until the soldier told him goodbye. A nurse waited for him, hanging him a clipboard.
“There’s a veteran in two. He says it might be his heart.”
He went into the room and found the guy’s lips blue, his hands pressed onto his heart. “I need oxygen!” It definitely was the heart, but what they needed was surgery, and he wasn’t a surgeon.
Calling up his colleagues until he found one who could operate, he barked out orders, hoping they wouldn’t lose another veteran so soon after the other.
When the old man was off to hopefully have his life saved, Ryan leaned against the hallway wall, taking a deep breath. He couldn’t wait until he was on his way home, and he’d make sure he left on time.
“You okay?” River joined his side, pulling off a face mask.
“Virus?” Ryan asked, worrying about contamination.
“New Taco van. Seems to be driving around the streets, which is why so many people come from different areas. My guess? Spoiled beef.”
That was a relief. He didn’t even want to begin to imagine what they’d have to do if they had an epidemic on their hands.
“Wanna switch?” Ryan offered generously and River laughed.
“Now that everyone’s taken care of? No, thanks.”
Ryan closed his eyes, trying to ignore the bustling noise, the shouts, the beeping machines in the distance.
“You’ll be going home soon, Ryan.”
He nodded. “No doubt, but…I don’t know, it’s funny how I suddenly just don’t find the same satisfaction in this task I used to. I mean, I was dying to get my hands on patients. The worse off, the better for me because I could prove my life was worth something, someone needed me, and now there’s this woman who makes me feel as if all I am is enough.”
His friend stayed silent and Ryan glanced at him. “Want me to stop talking?”
River shook his head. “No. I cannot believe it took you so long to feel that way. I’ve been thinking with each life we save I should have a day of utter satisfaction, the feeling of being a hero, but I don’t. Each time I save someone I cannot help but think for him there’ll be two more. Always two more. There’s no end. I used to read after getting home. I cannot do that anymore. My mind’s not focusing on the words, but the silence around me.”
Silence that should be soothing to both of them, but clearly wasn’t.
“Since Aimie lives in my apartment I realized how I did not enjoy my silence. I had the TV on, or the radio, or even my cell playing some songs. I was never sitting there in silence. Usually even to fall asleep I needed noise. How crazy is that?”
He’d needed it to drown out his thoughts but it hardly ever had worked. “Since she’s there I don’t mind. Even at night, when there’s nothing but her breathing filling the room, I find I don’t mind the silence. It finally brings me comfort. As if Aimie draws the stress right out of me.”
River turned to him. “What happened? You’re different.”
Ryan chuckled. “Well…must be true if you noticed.” He sobered considerably before continuing. “Aimie made a comment about missing home and it sounded as if she planned on going back to Australia. You know, it freaked me out.”
“Because you wouldn’t leave? Australia, man. Can you imagine? The beach. The sun. Everything. I’d go. Instantly. If she wanted me to leave and go to that little piece of paradise? I’d buy the tickets myself.”
“California is my home now and I want her here.”
River leaned his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling.
“Well, home is where the heart is, and if I was in love like you are? She’d have my heart.”
Ryan knew exactly what River was trying to say, and he didn’t rule out moving entirely, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try everything in his power to make her want to stay anyway, and if that didn’t work, he’d jump over his shadow. He wanted to give her the world, knowing it was something he’d forever try.
* * *
Aimie closed her laptop with satisfaction, happy about how great the writing had gone and that her novel was finally finished.
She’d also eaten well, hoping she hadn’t spoiled dinner for herself. After arriving hungry, everything had looked too good.
Shouldering her bag, she returned the mug and her plate to the counter, stepping out onto the street to enjoy the sun. She almost wished she’d walked the thirty minutes earlier because she felt the lack of activity since she took the car everywhere.
She hummed, packing the laptop into the backseat before getting behind the wheel. The way back took only a couple of minutes from the café—if the roads weren’t stuffed, like they were that day. It seemed there was an accident on one of the bigger streets, making everyone else try this route. It made Aimie wish even more she was without a car.
Once she finally reached her apartment, the happy feeling from having finished her book had dissipated and been replaced by annoyance.
Checking her watch, she mentally calculated how much longer it would be until Ryan returned, and figured she easily had an hour to take a shower and maybe get back to her happy place. She could also shave and get pretty for her husband, maybe seducing him even before they got around to eating.
The thought brought a smile to her lips and she went to the bedroom, picking out lacy garments before turning on the water in the shower.
She was lost in thought while undressing until something in the back of her mind pulled her back to the there-and-then.
She glanced around, wondering what it had been when she heard when the doorbell rang.
Glancing down at herself, Aimie hurried into the bedroom. “I’m coming,” she called, unsure if the person outside would hear her or not. Pulling on a spaghetti-strap top and sweatpants, she made her way downstairs and to the front door, opening it.
“Hello,” she greeted the dark-haired woman, something tickling the back of her mind. Did the woman look familiar?
“I’m here to see Ryan,” she announced, her face pale and her smile strained.
“He’s not home. Why don’t you leave your number and—”
The woman stepped forward as if she intended to come in, and Aimie closed the door a little more, hoping to keep her out if need be.
“He’ll be here soon, won’t he? His shift should be over any time now.”
That was true, and yet Aimie didn’t confirm or deny it. “Do you need me to call him so he knows to hurry right home?” And hopefully not leave her alone much longer? Suddenly Aimie felt worried, her mind insisting she knew the woman, but she couldn’t place her no matter how hard she tried.
“No need to. I mean, he’ll be here. I’ll just wait inside and you won’t even notice I’m there.”
Surely not, Aimie thought. “Look,” she started as politely as possible, “Why don’t you just come back in two hours? He’ll be home by then and he’ll have eaten. You two can talk then.”
“Two hours?” the woman asked, her eyes downcast, and finally Aimie could place her.
It was woman who ran into her in front of the hospital earlier.
She’d also been inside the hospital a few times when Aimie had brought Ryan lunch.
Unease settled in every cell of Aimie’s body as realization started to trickle in.
She needed to get the woman to leave. “Leave, please. You seem to know my husband well, so why don’t you seek him out at work tomorrow? I’ll make sure to tell him you will. Have a great evening and I’m sorry you came for nothing.”
She tried to close the door, but something blocked it, and when Aimie glanced around the wood, she found a foot lodged against it, and a palm holding it open.
“I know Ryan, and I know River, but no one knows them as well as you do, right?” The stranger’s demeanor had changed from timid and friendly to threatening and hateful.
That confirmed Aimie’s suspicion.
“You’re River’s stalker.” Maybe she shouldn’t have said that, but she needed the audible confirmation. If it was true, she’d been followed from the hospital earlier, and the woman must have stuck around in the café.
Or she’d waited for Aimie in front of Ryan’s apartment. How often had she hidden in the shadows without Aimie knowing?
The woman laughed, then caught Aimie off-guard by throwing herself against the door, tumbling into the apartment.
“Leave, or I’m calling the cops,” Aimie threatened, knowing it was futile. Insanity had entered the woman’s eyes.
“Stalker? I’m the only woman watching out for River. And look what good it did. He still went and got his best friend’s woman pregnant.”
Aimie blinked. She hadn’t realized River was becoming a dad. For a moment she wondered if Ryan knew.
A loud bang startled her and she watched as the stranger pocketed her key, locking them in.
“What’s your name?” she asked, considering grabbing her phone from her discarded bag and texting Ryan about the intruder. “And I think you should give me that key.” Her heart was racing in her throat and yet she was surprised how calm her voice was.
Instead of reacting to her, the woman opened the bag she was carrying, and when Aimie thought she was distracted enough, she tried to step around her, but the woman blindly stepped in her way until…
“Ha!” She pulled a knife out of her bag, making Aimie instantly back up.
“Careful, or you’ll hurt someone with that.”
The intruder stepped forward, her dark eyes crazed. “You think I don’t know, right? Think I didn’t see the way you and River hugged? You think I couldn’t read the signs? Poor Ryan. He doesn’t deserve a whore-wife like you.”
“Signs?” Aimie echoed, her mind going over possible escape routes or weapons she could find. The problem was that getting away from the lunatic with the knife meant walking into a corner. Maybe she could surprise the woman by screaming or distracting her and making her way toward the stairs and into the bedroom, locking herself in.
“The way you brought food for both of them. The way you talked to River alone before Ryan joined you. Do you even know which man impregnated you? Huh? Which one was it?” She was screaming by now, the hand with the knife shaking, and Aimie decided to jump forward, hoping to use the moment of surprise to get away.
Steeling herself, she weighed her options. “River is just a friend.” Right would be her best chance.
“I saw River touching your stomach.”
The confession startled Aimie. She hadn’t realized they’d been watched earlier. Going back over their talk, she couldn’t remember having seen anyone nearby, either.
“I was hungry,” she pointed out, moving slightly to her right. Not much, but enough to shift her position enough for a better chance at escape.
“I know sluts like you. Good men like River and Ryan need to be protected from you. Once and for all.”
Aimie snorted in disbelief. “You’re insane. Maybe you should’ve tried talking to him instead of creeping around.” She moved her feet again, then again just a little.
“I tried, but then realized I was better off watching out for his happiness. He needs someone to guide him from the shadows, although I didn’t understand your threat until it was too late.”
That woman was out of her mind. Gathering everything she had, Aimie tried to side-step her, blindly reaching out to push the woman, but it was as if the stalker had anticipated her move. Instead of getting away, Aimie felt the blade of the knife buried in her stomach, causing blinding pain to rush through her.
Staring at the other woman, she tried to breathe calmly and remember all she’d learned about not panicking to avoid faster blood loss. The problem was, her mind was consumed by agony.
The stalker was utterly calm, reaching for the knife again as if nothing had happened.
As if Aimie’s blood wasn’t already soaking through her clothes.
She’d expected to feel adrenaline surging through her, but the truth was she felt paralyzed. All those horror movies, those crime shows had made her believe she’d be running now, but instead time slowed until it almost came to a standstill. She glanced at her stomach, the bloodstain growing larger by the second.
“No more bastard child,” the woman said above the rushing in Aimie’s ears.
“No more cheating on Ryan.”
The knife plunged into her again, cutting her hand, too, and finally she stepped away clumsily.
“Stop.” Her voice was barely there. She needed help. Needed Ryan to come home. How much time had passed? How many more minutes would tick by before her husband was there?
“No more hurting River by not being exclusive with him.” Another stab, another wound, only this time Aimie no longer felt it. She stumbled, going down, hitting the hardwood floor with the back of her head, but she didn’t feel that, either.
Rolling into herself, she didn’t hear anything anymore, just trying to get away with her life.
There was white noise in her ears, her mind, her body going numb, and she forced her eyes closed.
Aimie had no way of telling the passing of time. Her breathing was flat and she was freezing. Lifting her head slightly she found herself alone. Bleeding and injured, but alone. The door was open and seemed a million miles away, as she was near the sofa. Crawling forward and gritting her teeth against the cold, she tried to pull herself up, but instead caused her handbag to topple onto the ground. The contents spilled out and she grabbed her cell, collapsing back onto the floor.
She pressed the button at the side of her iPhone six times, having heard somewhere it would cause an emergency call. She had no strength for anything more, and almost welcomed the blackness when it finally claimed her.
* * *
Leaving the hospital had been easier than he’d thought when the nightshift had shown up early and River promised to stay longer to do the hand-off.
The Italian restaurant was filled to the brim, and the take-out would take forever. He considered foregoing it, but then remembered he’d promised Aimie food, and he certainly didn’t feel like cooking.
Trying to call Aimie, he couldn’t get a hold of her, but wasn’t worried. She always turned the sound off when being at the café to write, and probably hadn’t turned it back on yet.
When his name finally was called, he grabbed the bag and left, glad to find the accident he’d heard about earlier had cleared up, leaving traffic moving easier.
He pushed into the stairway of the building, noticing something smeared on the ground. It almost looked like blood, causing him to think he needed even less time in the hospital since he clearly couldn’t shake imagining blood everywhere.
On the first floor he found another drop, and when he looked more closely he found yet another drop.
Dread coiled in his stomach. There was only one apartment up there: his. “Aimie?” he called while taking two steps at once. Maybe she’d had a nosebleed and would be fine. Maybe—
He dropped the food when he found the door open, not caring where it fell as he ran into the apartment, spinning in panic.
“Aimie?” There was blood on the floor, and he nearly dropped to his knees to follow it, but then spotted his wife next to the sofa, her cell in her bloody hand. The screen was lit up, asking her to slide for an emergency call. She’d tried to get herself help, and Ryan actually slid his finger over the screen, hoping it would be enough to get someone over who’d help. He probably should be calling an ambulance, but he couldn’t think straight.
Instead he carefully turned Aimie over, wanting to assess the injuries when he heard steps, jumping to his feet, ready to defend Aimie’s unmoving body.
It was the woman living on the first floor. “I called the police and they are bringing EMTs. I didn’t know what to do. I worried if I touched her, if I moved her…”
What was her name? Gabby? She was deathly pale, her red hair setting off the color even more.
“Gabby, it’s okay. What happened?”
His hands went to Aimie’s chest, but the blood he saw wasn’t coming from there. Instead it was spilling from her stomach.
“Kitchen. Second drawer on the left. Bring me every towel you can find. Hurry.”
The woman jumped into action and he heard drawers being pulled open. “Aims, look at me. Please. Open your eyes.” She was breathing, and she had a pulse, but it was weak.
“I saw a woman coming down the stairs with a knife. It was bloody, but her hands were clean. I wasn’t sure what to do. I waited until she was gone, then I went in search of what happened. I’d forgotten my cell and had to go back down. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She came and knelt next to him while Ryan pulled up Aimie’s shirt, his hands trembling. He couldn’t see what caused the bleeding and started to wipe at her stomach, assuming and finding cuts. He counted six.
“Her lips are blue, Ryan,” Gabby pointed out and Ryan drew Aimie into his arm, pressing two towels against her stomach, hoping to stop the bleeding.
“Stay with me, Aims. Please. God, please.”
What had she done to piss a woman off so badly? “Is there anything you remember about the attacker?”
Where the hell was the ambulance? Was time running or slowing down? He couldn’t say, just that every second felt like an eternity.
“I think she mumbled about rivers of blood. She must’ve been insane,” Gabby recalled.
Ryan glanced up. “Rivers of blood? That’s what she said?”
His neighbor shrugged. “I didn’t hear. I just heard her say river and when I saw her here, I assumed—”
“River,” Ryan echoed, his forehead falling to Aimie’s. “You suffered because you were friends with him. God. What happened today? How did she find you? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
He couldn’t stop saying that, not even when the EMTs arrived and pulled him off her. He was a doctor, for fuck’s sake. He should’ve started treating her, should’ve put bandages on her, should’ve cleaned her.
He should’ve done something other than pressing towels to her stomach, but he couldn’t think. In fact, all he could do was beg the strangers to make his life okay again, to fix what had happened.
“Ryan, come on.” He looked up at Gabby, finding her tugging at him.
“No, I’m not going anywhere. I need to do something for her. I need to…” He didn’t know.
“Let me call someone for you,” Gabby offered and he pulled out his phone, unlocking it.
“River. Call River.”
“We’re bringing her to Community Hospital. Do you want to ride with us, Mr. …?”
“Spencer,” he answered the EMT. “That’s my wife, Aimie.”
He wondered if they’d asked those questions before, but couldn’t remember. In fact, when he looked up he saw Aimie was loaded up and connected to a cardiogram, announcing her heartbeat was too weak. Truth be told, it was barely there, making him realize she’d lost a lot of blood. Maybe too much.
“Will she be okay?”
The EMT gave his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “Let’s get her to the hospital and see what the surgeons and nurses there can do for her, okay?”
He must’ve gotten up then because the next thing he remembered was sitting in the ambulance, Aimie’s cold hand in his.
He knew all about those injuries, knew about internal bleeding and hemorrhaging, but there, with his wife’s life on the line, Ryan couldn’t remember anything of his medical training, considering that maybe, just maybe, that was a small blessing in disguise. He didn’t remember statistics about survival rates, or blood loss victims.
Instead he recalled the way she’d beamed earlier, happy about dinner, and the way she’d let him kiss her.
He wanted that, and he wanted it now.