Desperate Measures (An Aspen Falls Novel) Page 5

  It took them several minutes to walk the short distance back to Cam’s house. By some miracle, none of her neighbors were outside. She chalked it up to simple dumb luck.

  Alex collapsed on the bed as soon as they made their way into the room. His calf was now coated with blood, and Cam immediately regretted her decision to bring him back to the house.

  “Your leg is bad,” she said. She tucked towels underneath it to keep the blood off the sheets.

  His eyes were closed, his facial muscles taut, but he managed a shake of his head.

  She frowned. “You’re bleeding through the gauze.”

  “My leg is fine,” he murmured. “It just needs to be rewrapped. I need to stay off it.”

  She started to respond but he kept talking.

  “My ribs are another story.”

  She immediately shifted her gaze to his chest. His breaths were coming out short and shallow. “Are they broken?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Cam stared at his ribs, as if doing so long enough might offer X-ray vision or something.

  But nothing happened.

  “We need to find out just how injured you are,” she said.

  Alex didn’t disagree. In fact, he didn’t say anything. But she knew if she mentioned going to a hospital or calling an ambulance, he’d freak.

  She chewed her lip and thought for a minute.

  There was one person she could call who would absolutely know what to do.

  One person who would help, even if he voiced concerns.

  Even if he flat-out told her she was making a poor choice in helping Alex.

  Her brother.

  8

  Saturday, September 8th

  11:00 am

  Cam was on the phone.

  Alex didn’t know how long he’d been out, but he didn’t think for long. A quick glance at his leg indicated she hadn’t yet changed the bandage. He knew cleaning that wound and figuring out what the hell was wrong with his ribs were tops on her list.

  They were tops on his, too.

  Especially the ribs.

  Because fuck, it hurt to breathe.

  She was speaking softly, but he could immediately tell that the person on the line was someone she knew, someone she felt comfortable with. Another voice spoke and he realized she was using the speakerphone.

  His eyes widened slightly.

  He recognized the other voice, too.

  Miguel.

  Cam’s brother. The big brother who’d gone off to college and then on to med school. Alex didn’t keep tabs on him the way he had with Cam, but he’d seen an article about Miguel in one of the local magazines, an issue dedicated to Native Americans. It was a piece on health care access on the reservations, and how local clinics were opening up in nearby towns to help support underserved populations. Miguel had signed on with a clinic near the Red Lake reservation and had spent the last few years working there, treating everything from diabetes to asthma to drug addiction. And because resources were scarce and luring other medical professionals to the region was difficult, Miguel often found himself filling other roles, too: nutritionist, social worker, therapist.

  Alex wasn’t a bit surprised to find out that was where Miguel had ended up. He’d always had a desire to help others, even when they insisted they didn’t want it.

  Alex knew this from experience. Because Miguel had tried to help him, time and time again.

  And Alex had always refused.

  “Back up a minute,” Miguel was saying. “And tell me again why Alex Castillo is in your bed.”

  “He’s not in my bed,” Cam responded, a little haughtily. “He’s in a bed in my house. And I don’t know.”

  “How do you not know?” Alex could hear the impatience in Miguel’s voice.

  “Because he won’t answer my damn questions,” Cam snapped back. “Look, can you help me or not?”

  Miguel breathed a heavy sigh. “Tell me what’s wrong with him.”

  Alex’s eyes were closed but he could almost feel the stress leave Cam’s body. “He has a wound on his leg,” she began. “Knife wound.”

  “How do you know it was a knife?”

  There was a short pause. “Because I’m the one who stabbed him.”

  “What?”

  Alex almost smiled at Miguel’s incredulity.

  “It’s a long story,” Cam said.

  “I actually have time…”

  “Later,” she clipped. “I stopped the bleeding last night, but then he was moving around and it opened up again.”

  “What does it look like now?”

  Cool fingers tentatively touched Alex’s leg and he tried not to react to the feel of Cam’s skin on his.

  “Well, the bandage is pretty bloody…”

  “You need to change that,” Miguel said. “Clean it up.”

  “I will, I will.” She started peeling away at the wet gauze. “What I’m most concerned about are his ribs.”

  “His ribs?”

  “Yeah, they’re causing him a lot of pain. I think they might be broken.”

  “Has he had an X-ray?”

  Cam snorted. “You think I have an X-ray machine in my house? No, he hasn’t had an X-ray. I just need to know what to do to treat him. Wrap them, I guess?”

  “No.” Miguel’s voice was firm. “We don’t do that anymore. What are his symptoms?”

  Cam rattled off what she’d witnessed. “Pain, obviously. Some shortness of breath.”

  “Is he complaining of stomach pain? Is he feverish at all?”

  No, Alex answered silently.

  “No.”

  “Coughing up blood or mucous?”

  “No.”

  Miguel was quiet for a minute. “Well, I can’t be sure without seeing an image of the ribs and doing a physical exam, but if I had to guess, he’s probably bruised them.”

  “So what does that mean?”

  “It means they’re gonna hurt like hell for a while,” Miguel said bluntly. “But there shouldn’t be any lasting damage, providing there are no complications.”

  “Complications?”

  “Pneumothorax. Surgical emphysema.”

  “Could you speak English, please?” Cam said.

  Miguel chuckled. “Secondary infections.”

  Alex opened his eyes just a fraction. Cam was staring at his chest, a worried expression clouding her features. He closed them quickly, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

  “So we just have to wait?” she asked her brother.

  “Pretty much.”

  Alex could have told her that. It wasn’t the first time he’d suffered this type of injury. Far from it. He knew how long the recovery period could be. Coupled with his other injuries—the wound in his leg, the mild concussion he was sure he was dealing with—he was probably going to be in less than optimal condition for a while.

  Oh well. He’d just have to make do.

  Because there weren’t any other options.

  “So there is literally nothing I can do to make him feel better?” Cam asked.

  “Drugs would help with the pain,” Miguel told her. “And rest. Ice if the pressure doesn’t cause too much discomfort.”

  “Drugs.” She immediately seized on the word. “Like what? Ibuprofen?”

  “You could start with that, I guess.” But her brother sounded doubtful. “Judging from what you’ve told me, though, he probably could benefit from something stronger.”

  “I don’t have anything stronger,” Cam said flatly. “Unless…”

  Silence filled the room, and then Miguel sighed. “I guess I could write a prescription…”

  “You’re the best.” Cam was smiling; Alex couldn’t see it, but he could hear it in her voice.

  “You owe me,” Miguel grumbled. “This is so unethical.”

  “Why? You’re writing a prescription for someone who needs it,” Cam said. “It’s not like I’m gonna go and sell it on the street. I’m a cop!”

  “And you think cops don’
t sell drugs?” Miguel asked.

  Cam was quiet.

  “Besides, that’s not the point,” he said. “The point is that I’m writing a script for someone I haven’t examined.”

  “There are virtual doctors now,” Cam reminded him. “This is literally no different.”

  “Well, it feels different to me.”

  Alex listened to their exchange with more than a twinge of guilt. He hated putting Miguel in this position, but a small thrill ran through him because of how hard Cam was fighting on his behalf. She had no reason to do it; hell, if anything, she should have just picked up the phone and called the cops or 911 and washed her hands of the whole thing.

  But she didn’t do either of those things.

  She’d kept him in her house, and she’d found a way to seek out medical treatment. Well, maybe not treatment. Medical advice was probably a better assessment of what had just happened.

  Regardless, he was still grateful.

  He felt hands on him again, this time a flutter of movement on his chest.

  His eyes flew open, and what he saw took his breath away.

  Cam’s face, her eyes peering at him with naked concern.

  She immediately drew her hand away. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Hurt me?” Miguel’s voice rang out loud and clear via the speaker. “What, by asking me to falsify a prescription?”

  Neither Alex nor Cam responded.

  Alex shook his head. His throat was tight, and he didn’t trust himself to form words, much less a complete sentence.

  Relief flooded Cam’s features.

  “I’m okay,” Alex managed to get out.

  “Alex?” Miguel’s voice was sharp.

  “I’m here,” he responded weakly.

  There was a thread of doubt in Miguel’s voice. “You alright?”

  “I think so,” Alex responded. It wasn’t a complete lie. Everything hurt like hell, but he didn’t feel like he was at death’s door or anything.

  Yet.

  “Thanks for helping,” Alex mumbled.

  Miguel’s sigh was audible. “Yeah, well, just don’t fuck things up, alright?” He paused. “Any more than you already have, I mean.”

  Alex nodded, forgetting that Miguel couldn’t see him.

  “And whatever you do,” Miguel continued, his voice laced with warning, “do not fuck up my sister.”

  9

  Saturday, September 8th

  5:00 pm

  Cam yanked the keys out of the ignition and grabbed the bags sitting on the passenger seat.

  She was pretty sure she’d never driven through Aspen Falls as quickly as she just had. It was a miracle she hadn’t been pulled over during her race around town.

  It had taken a lot of convincing to leave the house and go pick up the prescription Miguel had called in. She didn’t want to leave Alex.

  Mostly because she wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t try to bolt as soon as the coast was clear. But he’d promised her, in no uncertain terms, that he would stay put.

  She didn’t have to believe him…but she did.

  There was a small part of her that hesitated over leaving him because of the condition he was in. Even though Miguel hadn’t seemed too terribly worried, and even though she’d checked and cleaned his leg wound and it looked to be closing back up again, she still had concerns about his health. What if his leg started bleeding again, more profusely this time? What if his ribs really were broken, and one of those horrible sounding conditions Miguel had mentioned suddenly developed? She wouldn’t be there to help. To take care of him.

  Cam shook her head as she hustled toward the front door. The garage door was already closing, squeaking noisily on the rollers. Two of the neighbor kids, Austin and Ella, whizzed by her on their bikes.

  “Hi, Ms. Perez,” they called out in unison, their voices muffled by the bike helmets strapped to their heads.

  She offered a half-hearted wave. Their dad was in the backyard, pushing a mower over the perfectly manicured lawn, while their mom watched over a grill positioned on the back deck. The scent of hamburgers filled Cam’s nostrils and she realized she hadn’t eaten all day. And she was starving.

  She unlocked the front door and made sure to lock and deadbolt it behind her. She wasn’t normally an overly cautious person—being a cop in Aspen Falls, she knew just how safe the town really was, especially in comparison to where she’d grown up—but with Alex there she could feel herself channeling some of his nervousness and anxiety. She had no doubt it was probably influencing her behavior a little.

  With the bags looped over her arm, Cam made her way down the hall. Her pulse quickened as she approached the half-open door. A sense of dread loomed over her. What if the bed was empty? What if the window was propped open again, the shade flapping in the breeze, no sign of Alex anywhere?

  What would she do? Go looking for him again? Call her friends at the station?

  She didn’t know the answer, and that disturbed her. The obvious choice—the only choice, really—should be to call the station. But she knew herself, and despite her best attempt at keeping her distance and maintaining neutrality, she knew she was losing her objectivity. She was connected to Alex, for better or for worse, and she knew this link to him would influence the decisions she made.

  Hell, it already was.

  She’d convinced her brother to write a prescription for painkillers. Even worse, she’d had him put it under her name so she wouldn’t have problems picking it up. Celeste, the pharmacy technician she’d gotten the prescription from, had briefly dated one of the officers at the station, and even though she wasn’t supposed to comment on patients’ medications, her eyes had rounded when she read the label on the bag as she was ringing Cam up.

  “Gee, I hope you feel better soon,” she’d whispered.

  Cam had gritted her teeth and just nodded.

  She sincerely hoped Celeste didn’t have a penchant for gossip.

  She pushed those thoughts aside just as she pushed the bedroom door open. She was bracing herself for worst-case scenario. An empty bed.

  That wasn’t the image that greeted her.

  Instead, she saw Alex asleep. The white sheet was pulled up to his abdomen, leaving his upper half bare. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, noticed that he didn’t seem to be struggling with breathing or experiencing any pain as he slept. His leg was covered, hidden behind the sheet, but the fabric was still white, which meant there was currently no bleeding.

  All good signs.

  But those weren’t the only things Cam noticed. She drank in his long dark lashes resting against smooth, tanned skin and his rosy, rounded lips. Even though it had been years, she had total recall of just how that mouth had felt pressed against hers. Alex was wearing his hair a little shorter now, but she could still see the hint of waviness, and the persistent cowlick he’d fought as a teen looked to be just as stubborn as ever. She’d twined her fingers around that rebellious lock of hair more times than she could count.

  Cam dropped the bags on the chair she’d positioned next to the bed. The sound of the plastic rustling against the vinyl seat made Alex stir.

  His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment he looked confused. Then terrified.

  “It’s just me,” she said quickly, crouching down so she was in his line of vision. Without thinking, she reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  Big mistake.

  More memories flooded her mind.

  Interlocked hands.

  Entwined bodies.

  A vault of images, firmly locked away, suddenly assaulted her senses.

  She let go of his hand and dropped into the chair, startling herself when she sat on the plastic bags. She’d forgotten they were there.

  She yanked the bags out from underneath her. “I have your pills,” she said.

  He gave her a small smile. “Thanks.”

  She dug around in the bag and pulled out a small paper sack that contained the bottle of med
ication. “It’s two weeks worth. I think there are a couple of refills available.”

  He glanced at the bag. “What else is in there?”

  “A gel ice pack,” she said. “I thought you might want to try it. See if it helps. I…I bought some more gauze, too. And some ointment. For your leg.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know.” She pulled out the items and set them on the nightstand.

  “What’s in the other bag?” Alex asked.

  Cam felt her cheeks warm.

  “I…I thought you might want a change of clothes,” she half-mumbled. “I mean, your jeans have a massive gash in them and your shirt was pretty filthy…”

  Alex’s eyes locked on hers. “Show me.”

  She plunged her hand into the bag, mostly so he wouldn’t notice that it was trembling. Why on earth were her hands shaking? All she’d done was pick up a few cheap pieces of clothing so he didn’t have to be in her house half-naked.

  “Just a couple of T-shirts,” she said quickly, lifting them up for him to see. A blue one and a black one. His two favorite colors, she’d realized as she was picking them out. “A pair of sweats. A pair of shorts. A couple pairs of underwear. And a pair of socks. Yours got pretty bloody…”

  “Wow.” His voice was still weak but that didn’t mask how impressed he sounded. And how grateful. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

  “You need clothes. And I don’t live with a man.”

  He muttered something under his breath.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he murmured.

  She sat back in the chair, hoping to slow her racing heart. Her adrenaline had kicked up a notch when she’d gotten home because of the uncertainty of what she was coming back to. But now that she was there, she felt a little more relaxed. A little more in control of the situation. Alex was stable. He’d trusted her enough to stay put while she ran errands.

  Maybe now was the time to ask her questions.