Medicine Man (Page 18)

But Dr. Blackwood appears cool. Extremely cool, in fact.

Nothing on his expression suggests that he even knows about the attention he commands or the sudden increase in the chatter. The scattered staff around the room has become more attentive, though.

 “Good afternoon, everyone.” His voice rises above the din, crisp and loud, as he stands in the middle of the room. “I hope you’re having a pleasant day so far. Some of you’ll be seeing me in my office later today, so please don’t let me keep you from enjoying the delicious lunch. As much as I love the attention, we don’t want to offend the cooks.”

With that, he strides over to where Beth’s watching him with a motherly smile, shaking her head. There’s no other option but to watch him after he handled that so smoothly.

Again, I can’t help but think this man knows stuff. He knows how to handle being under scrutiny.

I watch him lower his head to listen to what Beth’s saying. He has his large hand on her lower back as he gives her his full attention.

Penny chides us to stop staring, and normally I would take her advice because I hate getting stared at myself. But I can’t stop.

There’s something about him that compels me to look.

And then Josie joins their group, and I wouldn’t be able to tear my gaze away even if I wanted to.

 She stands beside Dr. Blackwood, almost coming up to his ears, as he turns to include her. Which is so atypical of what I’ve seen from him.

But what do I know? I’ve only known him for a few days.

A couple of seconds into the conversation, Josie cracks up at something he says, her blonde hair swaying with her laughter. I watch for his reaction. I watch to see if he’s laughing.

He’s not.

He’s smiling though. And in all the time that I’ve known him, this is the biggest he’s smiled.

I turn away abruptly and focus on my lunch. It’s none of my business how close he was standing to Josie or how big he was smiling.

We eat in silence – as much silence as you can get here – until there’s a crash at the far end of the room. It’s Annie– Angry Annie – who lives a few doors down and is prone to nightmares. From what I hear, she is known for being a little aggressive.

She’s thrown her tray full of food on the floor and is standing, her dark hair tumbling out of her bun.

“I don’t wanna eat this fucking food,” she declares angrily. “It’s fucking disgusting. Makes me wanna kill myself. And I don’t want the shiny hotshot doctor either. I want Dr. Martin.”

She takes a few steps to her right, but instantly a nurse is on her, trying to calm her down.

“No, don’t you come near me. Don’t touch me.” She’s flailing her arms at the nurse, and now techs are on her too, circling around her.

“Keep your filthy hands off me, you animals. I hate you. I fucking hate you all! I don’t wanna be here. I don’t fucking wanna be here. You killed him, didn’t you? You killed Dr. Martin? Like they killed my daddy. You fucking killed him!”

Her fists are shaking and they almost catch one of the techs on his jaw. In the next second, two of them grab her hands, making her thrash against their hold, making her scream.

It’s creating a sense of paranoia in the room. People are getting upset, as if waking up from sleep. Looking at their food, at each other. At Angry Annie.

“You killed my daddy. You killed Dr. Martin!” She’s sobbing and something clenches in my heart. A tight vise.

Her screams are causing a rush in my blood, a click in my ears. Her jerks, the shakes of her head, her rending voice – everything about her agitated state is getting to me.

This is the very first time I’ve seen Angry Annie in action. In fact, in my two weeks of being here, this is the very first time I’ve seen any kind of meltdown, where this manner of assistance is required. Usually, it’s empty threats and what now looks like playful jabbing.

For a few seconds, I’m thrown back to the hospital room where I woke up after The Roof Incident. The panic. The weight of what happened.

God, I never want to feel that again.

I never want to be that agitated again. Like I’m losing my grip on reality.

Like Angry Annie.

 My vision breaks when I see other staff members pouring into the room, trying to handle the commotion. Suddenly, the row of tables is infiltrated by the navy-blue scrubs. In the middle of all the shouting and chatter, Dr. Blackwood strides over to Angry Annie.

Until then, I’ve been sitting backed up in my seat, my body all tightened up into a ball. As soon as he starts talking to her, my muscles ease up a little. I don’t know why. The more I see his soft lips moving, his jaw working back and forth, the looser I become.

My fists are open. My abdomen isn’t contracted. I’m not a rock anymore.

In the periphery I notice a nurse prepping a syringe, though and I’m panicking again.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

Not the needles. Needles are the worst.

They are the fucking worst.

Before I can think it through, I spring up from my chair. It makes a great shrieking noise against the hardwood floor, shocking me, and apparently, shocking the girls too.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Renn asks, alert.

“I’ve got to stop it. I-I can’t let her get stuck with a needle.”

Vibrating with a huge amount of energy, I’m rounding the chair when Penny speaks up. “Are you insane? Let them do their job, Willow.”

“No.”

“Willow! Get back here!” Penny hisses.

“She’s not an animal. She shouldn’t be made to feel like one,” I snap, breathing hard, my heart drumming inside my chest.

“Willow, stop. She doesn’t need your help.”

I can’t tell if that’s Renn or Penny, but I don’t care. I’m in a trance. A bubble where I can only feel anger and determination.

I have to stop it.

I need to stop it.

I need to stop them from making her feel less than human, a freak. Because that’s how it feels when they restrain you, dig their claws in your skin. They invade your personal space, get so close to you that you can see the pores of their skin, smell their sweat. You can feel the disgusting heat of their body. Their strong fingers. Their mean, ugly faces. You tell them to back off, but they don’t listen. You tell them to let you go, leave you alone, but it hardly registers to them.

You tell them you’re not crazy. You don’t need to calm down. You need to be listened to. You need to be understood.

But they all think they are smarter than you.

My thoughts are frantic, exactly like my breathing, like I’m living this moment of horror right alongside Angry Annie. Like I’m back at the hospital where people – even my mom – didn’t believe me when I told them that The Roof Incident was an accident. Where they stuck me with a needle because they thought I was too agitated, too unhinged.

The big, bad hurricane inside me gets jarred when I crash into someone. It’s Hunter.

“I need you to stay calm, all right?” he tells me with a scratchy voice.

“I need to go save her,” I tell him.

“You don’t need to save her. We’ve got it handled. She’s gonna be fine.” He tries to steer me back to the table.

“No, she’s not gonna be fine. You can’t sedate her. You can’t do this to her, okay?” I push against his hold but damn it, I can’t.