Reaper's Fall

I kicked out, desperate to throw him off. My feet caught the computer cart, sending it crashing across the slick tiles. It slammed into something and then metal crashed to the floor, clattering loudly.

“I’ll kill you, bitch,” he hissed in my ear, slamming my head to the floor yet again. “I’m onto you. You’ve been feeding them information about me too long, but now you’ll pay. You’ll die!”

The last words rose in pitch, and then he started a long, high keening as his fingers tightened around my neck. Loud shouts penetrated the fog in my head, and then there was a flood of people in the room. Orderlies were pulling at him, prying his fingers off my throat as they dragged him away. Somehow I found the strength to scramble backward, huddling against the wall as I watched Sherri in action, an avenging angel with a hypodermic needle. She darted in, injecting him fast and hard.

Todger continued to fight, but I knew the meds would kick in fast. The reality around me seemed distant and hard to follow—shock. Then Sherri was next to me, coolly assessing as I caught snatches of conversation in the distance.

“Check on her.”

“Restraints . . . never saw this coming.”

“He’s been getting worse for months . . . call psych . . .”

“Melanie?”

I focused in on Sherri’s face, blinking.

“You’re in shock, babe. Stick with me, okay?”

“I’m fine,” I managed to whisper, trying to focus. My head hurt . . . a lot. But nothing else. No broken bones, nothing like that. “I’ll be just fine. No worries.”

Sherri gave a short laugh.

“Always the hero, aren’t you?” she said, although I caught a hint of fear in her voice. “On the bright side, maybe we’ll finally get an inpatient bed for Todger. At least for a while.”

“He’ll be right back out,” I managed to whisper, offering her a weak smile. “Probably won’t even remember what happened.”

That made her laugh.

“Sad but true,” she said. “Just watch, they’ll turf his ass five minutes after the hold ends.”

“All in a day’s work,” I said ruefully, shaking my head. Big mistake. Rolling over, I puked all over the floor.

Wasn’t that just great—he gave me a concussion.

Pisser. The next couple days were gonna suck.

PAINTER

I leaned over the pool table, lining up my shot. The game had started as an excuse to wrap myself around the cute little redhead who’d been flirting with me across the bar for the last half hour, but she’d turned out to be a surprisingly good player. Suddenly I’d found myself with a real challenge. Turned me on, had to admit.

About fuckin’ time, too. Most of the women I met these days were boring. I liked getting my dick sucked, no question, but I still tended to close my eyes and picture Melanie in their place. My cock never seemed to get the message that she wasn’t interested in us anymore, no matter how many times my brain explained this reality.

Fuckin’ ridiculous. All of it.

Pulling back the cue, I took my shot. The ball hit with a satisfying crack, sending the green solid toward the back corner pocket. Red pouted prettily, then sashayed over to give me a kiss. I’d just covered her mouth with mine, reaching around to grab her ass, when the phone in my back pocket buzzed.

I considered ignoring it.

Christ, but I wanted to ignore it. Unfortunately, one of the downsides of club life is always answering the damned phone, because a brother might be in trouble. Giving Red’s generous ass one last squeeze, I pulled away to grab my phone.

Melanie.

She never called, not unless it was about Izzy, and I couldn’t think of a single reason she’d be in touch at midnight on a Friday if it wasn’t an emergency.

The pretty redhead ceased to exist.

Catching Puck’s eye, I mouthed Melanie as I made for the bar’s open patio, away from the music.

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked, feeling anxious.

“Painter? Are you there?”

“Just a sec,” I told her. “I’m heading outside where it’s quiet.”

“Okay.”

It took a minute, but I finally found a patch of privacy toward the back. “Hey, what’s going on? Is Izzy okay?”

“She’s fine,” Melanie said, her voice sounding strange. Harsh, like she’d been coughing. “Look, I need your help.”

Well. That was different.

“All right . . .”

“Here’s the situation—my shift was supposed to end at eight, but there was an accident at the hospital. Izzy’s with a sitter and they’re keeping me here overnight. London’s out of town and—”

“No, it’s fine,” I said, my mind switching modes instantly. I’d heard some guys bitching that their exes were always dumping the kids on them, but Mel wasn’t like that. If she’d called, it was because she’d run out of options. “I can get her. What’s the situation?”

She didn’t answer for a minute, and I went from concerned to suspicious.

“Melanie? What’s going on?”

“A patient attacked me,” she admitted slowly.

“The fuck?” I asked, chilled. “Why?”

“He’s mentally ill,” she said quickly. “Probably doesn’t even remember doing it. Look, it’s no big deal but they want to keep me for the night to make sure the head injury isn’t serious. I told them it’s not, but you know how it is. Liability.”

“I’m coming to the hospital,” I said. “I want to see for myself.”