this. I’m wondering if he’ll even notice you’re there with all his electronics, slash stakeout, slash contingency supplies there.”
She smiled up at him. “Go ahead and yuck it up. You won’t be when he saves your ass.”
“Let’s hope that never happens. I’d never live it down.”
On the ninth floor, Xander checked in with Brady and picked up the bug he needed to plant in his own apartment, promising to plant it as soon as he walked in the door.
He was dead on his feet as he rode the musty-smelling elevator to the fourth floor.
It was silent when he walked into the apartment. He expected Jaci to be in bed, sleeping, and was surprised to find the bed empty. The window shade was pulled down, darkening the room. A slit of artificial light escaped from underneath the bathroom door. He planted the bug underneath the lamp on her bedside table and settled himself at the dinette set, waiting for her to exit. After a while, he listened for movement inside the bathroom. He heard none. Another couple of minutes passed. Still nothing.
Walking over to the bathroom door, he tapped lightly. “Jaci? Are you okay in there?” He waited, ear close to the door. No answer. He tried the knob. It was locked. He pounded with the side of his fist this time “Jaci. Open the door,” he shouted, trying to force back the feeling of dread that crept up his spine.
Xander covered the three strides it took to get to the kitchen in seconds, and was back at the bathroom door, butter knife in hand, to unlock it.
He swung the door open and found her sitting on the floor between the tub and toilet. She was in a paper clinic gown, with her bare legs tucked up in front of her and her head drooping forward.
“Jaci?” He stepped in and lifted her chin so he could get a good look at her. She was an alarming shade of gray. An empty prescription bottle sat on the closed lid of the toilet.
“Goddammit,” he yelled, as he fell to his knees, pulling her toward him, and then whirling her around until he held her upright, with her back to his chest, and his arm wrapped around her waist.
“Brady,” he barked, loudly. “She’s OD’ing on painkillers.” He lifted the lid of the toilet, sending the pill bottle flying, and leaned her forward over the bowl. Her head bobbled on her neck as he stuck his fingers down her throat. The reflex was immediate as the contents of her stomach expelled into the bowl. A smattering of partially dissolved tablets plopped into the water, decorating the bottom of the bowl with light blue dots. He made her vomit again and again until nothing came up anymore. Then, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed.
Xander laid her down and felt her neck at the carotid. Slow, lazy thumps surged underneath the pad of his finger. Her chest rose and fell in long labored breaths.
He looked at her ashen face and the dusky circles under her eyes. His heart bloomed with the need to ease her anguish and protect her from the rest of the world. It was clear that the last twenty-four hours had destroyed her.
Xander’s hand was on its way up to touch his ear bud to call Brady, when he walked through the apartment door, closing and locking it behind him. He dug through the bag he carried, finally pulling out a syringe. “Narcan,” he said, holding it up before popping the cover off the needle and injecting her. “That’s all I got in my bag of tricks.” He met Xander’s eyes. “I’m out of here, but I’ll be listening in case you need anything,” he said, turning around and walking back through the apartment door.
He stood in the darkened room with his blood boiling. His chest heaved as he raked a hand through his hair and paced back and forth next to the bed.
Then focusing on Jaci’s form, Xander brushed a lock of hair from her face. Her skin began to lose some of the deathly gray pallor it exhibited only a minute before. Already, she looked better. She was going to survive this.
His panic dulled enough for other
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley