When the glint from a streetlamp bounced off the metal covered knuckles, Turk was sure he felt the pain before they smashed into his face, driving his head into the exterior of the building. He might even have felt the second wallop to his jaw as his limp form slithered down the old brick surface, abrading the exposed skin of his back before he crumpled into a human pile. Lucky for Turk his masked assailant decided not to kill him outright. Instead, the guy left him to freeze to death on a pile of urine-saturated snow in the hellish streets of Detroit.
“For Christ’s sake, Lennon. Will you look at yourself? And you smell like a damn old toilet.”
Turk tried to ignore the deep voice disturbing him. “Lemme go.” Why isn’t this guy listening to me? “Just let me sleep.”
“Turk!”
Holy shit, this time the other guy’s voice felt like a sledgehammer to his head.
“Wake up, buddy!” Strong hands pulled at his arms, forcing Turk to stand. “Oh, Jesus. You’re in rough shape. I gotta call this in.”
Even though the man’s arm was around him, the voice sounded like it was in a can somewhere far away. “Officer down, Lexington and Grove. Ambulance needed”
For a minute, Turk wondered who the officer was that needed the ambulance. Then he realized it was him. Slumping against the large-barreled body that supported him, Turk decided it was best if he went back to sleep.
“I can hear you talking about me.” A heavy white curtain yanked open, revealing his partner, Mike Riley.
“Holy crap, we thought you died.” Riley leaned forward to give him a hug but was stopped by a single word.
“No.” Turk watched Riley turn around to argue with the intruder, but the man stopped abruptly at a vision of loveliness in multi-colored scrubs. “Don’t touch my patient.”
“But he’s my partner and I thought he was dying.”
Turk wanted to smile at the pout he heard in Riley’s voice, except his head hurt too much for that.
“Well, if you manhandle him, he might just do that. For now, he’s my responsibility and I want you to leave for a few minutes.” She pointed to the open doorway. “Go get yourself something from the cafeteria. They’re open for breakfast now.”
After Mike stomped into the hallway, his attendant turned toward him, practically blinding Turk with a megawatt smile and stunning green eyes. “Good morning, James. How are you feeling?”
“Turk.”
“Turk what?” She tipped her head, causing a long, blonde braid to slide off her shoulder, the end of it tickling his arm as she lifted his wrist, causing a light floral bouquet to float past his nose.
“Call me Turk. James is my old man.” His throat burned as the words came out.
“Okay.” She placed her fingertips to his wrist and looked at her watch for a minute. Then gently returned his hand to the blanket.
“Why am I here?”
“Mister Lennon,” she paused a second and smiled. “May I call you that?” Without waiting for his response she continued, “You were brought in during the night with three broken ribs, multiple lacerations to the skull—one of which required ten staples—and a concussion.” After waving a penlight in his eyes, she continued to speak. “I am Lynn Forester, Nurse Practitioner.”
“When can I leave?” Turk attempted to push himself up in the bed.
“Hold on, I’ll help you adjust.” Once she had him upright with two new pillows behind his shoulders, Lynn took a step back from his bedside. “Given your stats, I think you’ll be here a few more nights. The whack you took to the head knocked you out for many hours. Your blood pressure and heart rate are still protesting. I assume the attending will want you to be monitored for a bit.”
“For Christ’s sake, Lennon. Will you look at yourself? And you smell like a damn old toilet.”
Turk tried to ignore the deep voice disturbing him. “Lemme go.” Why isn’t this guy listening to me? “Just let me sleep.”
“Turk!”
Holy shit, this time the other guy’s voice felt like a sledgehammer to his head.
“Wake up, buddy!” Strong hands pulled at his arms, forcing Turk to stand. “Oh, Jesus. You’re in rough shape. I gotta call this in.”
Even though the man’s arm was around him, the voice sounded like it was in a can somewhere far away. “Officer down, Lexington and Grove. Ambulance needed”
For a minute, Turk wondered who the officer was that needed the ambulance. Then he realized it was him. Slumping against the large-barreled body that supported him, Turk decided it was best if he went back to sleep.
“I can hear you talking about me.” A heavy white curtain yanked open, revealing his partner, Mike Riley.
“Holy crap, we thought you died.” Riley leaned forward to give him a hug but was stopped by a single word.
“No.” Turk watched Riley turn around to argue with the intruder, but the man stopped abruptly at a vision of loveliness in multi-colored scrubs. “Don’t touch my patient.”
“But he’s my partner and I thought he was dying.”
Turk wanted to smile at the pout he heard in Riley’s voice, except his head hurt too much for that.
“Well, if you manhandle him, he might just do that. For now, he’s my responsibility and I want you to leave for a few minutes.” She pointed to the open doorway. “Go get yourself something from the cafeteria. They’re open for breakfast now.”
After Mike stomped into the hallway, his attendant turned toward him, practically blinding Turk with a megawatt smile and stunning green eyes. “Good morning, James. How are you feeling?”
“Turk.”
“Turk what?” She tipped her head, causing a long, blonde braid to slide off her shoulder, the end of it tickling his arm as she lifted his wrist, causing a light floral bouquet to float past his nose.
“Call me Turk. James is my old man.” His throat burned as the words came out.
“Okay.” She placed her fingertips to his wrist and looked at her watch for a minute. Then gently returned his hand to the blanket.
“Why am I here?”
“Mister Lennon,” she paused a second and smiled. “May I call you that?” Without waiting for his response she continued, “You were brought in during the night with three broken ribs, multiple lacerations to the skull—one of which required ten staples—and a concussion.” After waving a penlight in his eyes, she continued to speak. “I am Lynn Forester, Nurse Practitioner.”
“When can I leave?” Turk attempted to push himself up in the bed.
“Hold on, I’ll help you adjust.” Once she had him upright with two new pillows behind his shoulders, Lynn took a step back from his bedside. “Given your stats, I think you’ll be here a few more nights. The whack you took to the head knocked you out for many hours. Your blood pressure and heart rate are still protesting. I assume the attending will want you to be monitored for a bit.”