Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Ryder pulled out his police badge and flashed it in front of the doctor. Most of the ER medical staff knew him on sight, but Dr. Hastings was new to the hospital. On top of that, the man apparently had a chip on his shoulder the size of a small mountain. Ryder suspected he suffered from a strong case of ‘I’m a god’ syndrome due to his medical abilities.
“I fail to see the connection,” the older man countered dryly. “Is Mr. Newsome under arrest? Broken any laws? As I said earlier, Detective, if you aren’t a family member, you need to excuse yourself. Mr. Newsome needs medical attention, not belligerence.”
Strange, Ryder thought. He’d simply asked the same question the good doctor had just presented to Remi himself. He wasn’t sure how he would be considered belligerent while the doctor asking was considered medical attention. Of course, it might have been Ryder’s tone. Yeah, that was probably it. Ryder couldn’t help it, though; not where Remi was concerned.
“It’s…it’s okay,” Remi whispered softly. “He can stay.”
The doctor glared at Ryder with disdain but didn’t argue with Remi’s decision to allow him to remain in the cubicle. “Fine…but try to be seen and not heard.” He turned his attention back to Remi and said, “I really need you to tell me what you’ve taken. It will help us determine your path of treatment much faster.” The doctor glanced down at his watch and added, “The results from your blood work will be back any second now, Mr. Newsome. You can tell me, or I can read about it.”
“I didn’t take anything,” Remi answered. “I don’t use drugs.” He looked up at Ryder when he said the words and there was a conviction in his voice that made Ryder automatically want to believe Remi. “I had a few drinks, but not enough to…to…well, to do whatever happened.” He frowned. “How did I end up here?”
The doctor scanned the report and answered, “Someone found you passed out on the sidewalk. When they couldn’t get you to respond, they called for an ambulance. You’ve been here for nearly six hours, son.”
Remi’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. “I, uh, remember being at the club with friends. Then I started feeling weird, so I left. I was walking to my car…and that’s the last I remember.” He looked up at Ryder again. “I swear, Ryder. I didn’t use any drugs.”
Hell, Remi had been passed out on a dirty sidewalk while Ryder’s victim was being murdered. It made him sick to think there was a murderer walking the streets and Remi had been helpless. The body down in the morgue, beaten beyond recognition, was probably the same age as Remi, could even be one of his friends. What if Remi had been in the wrong place? What if it was his body down in the morgue instead of their John Doe? Could Ryder live with their history if that were the case? “I believe you, Remi. Maybe somebody slipped something into your drink? Could that have happened?”
The doctor snorted in disbelief, but Ryder shut him up with an angry glare. “It happens, doctor. It happens at clubs all the damn time.” Suddenly, Ryder panicked. “Was Cassie with you? If they spiked your drink, they could have gotten hers, too.”
“No, Cassie was at home. I was with friends from the swim team. None of them would have done anything like that, and we bought a fresh bottle of Tequila and were taking shots at our own table. I don’t see how anybody could have slipped anything into my drink.”
Remi’s hands kept fisting the thin hospital sheet in a nervous gesture. Ryder watched and noted that his hands still trembled. “What’s wrong, Remi? Are you scared? Nervous? What’s bothering you?” he asked as he reached down and took one of Remi’s hands and held it in his own. “Fuck, you’re ice cold!”
“Bad dreams,” Remi whispered softly. “I had some really bad dreams. Bad.”
His voice cracked on the last ‘bad’ and he literally gasped for breath. Ryder squeezed his hand, trying to offer some sort of comfort. Every fiber of his being wanted to wrap Remi in his arms and hold him tight. It had always been that way, and Ryder feared it always would.
“My chest hurts. My whole body hurts. It hurts to breathe.”
“Excuse me, doctor,” a voice interrupted. “I have the lab reports you requested.” The nurse, a petite girl that didn’t look old enough to be out of high school, much less performing nursing duties in the ER, handed some paperwork to the doctor.
“Yes, let’s see what Mr. Newsome has ingested,” the doctor practically purred as he took the paperwork and started reading.
Ryder kept rubbing Remi’s hand while the doctor read. Touching Remi wasn’t safe; it would only make him want the man even more, but he couldn’t seem to pull his hands away. He knew they both needed the connection, and he’d be damned if he took it away…not yet, at least. After a few seconds, Ryder noted the huge frown that formed on the doctor’s face.