Page 97 of Fame and Obsession

“Calm down, Pheebs. Nobody’s making me go anywhere. Right, Brunhilda?”

I glance over my shoulder to find the nurse pursing her lips, attempting to mask a smile. Jesus, is there anyone he can’t charm?

“Fine,” she concedes, staring him down. “But if those blood pressure monitors go off again, I’m clearing the room.”

“Yes, ma’am…’ He flashes her his trademark smile. “I’ll be the perfect angel.”

She snorts as she adjusts my wires. “Somehow, I doubt that.” Stopping at the entrance to the room, she calls over her shoulder, “Miss Ryan, stay on your side until the doctor comes in.”

As soon as she leaves, I flip over and scowl. “Thanks a lot. Now I have Nurse Ratchet on my ass.”

“You’re a horrible patient. She told you to stay on your side.”

“How long have I been here?” I ask, ignoring him.

“The ambulance brought you in last night. You’ve been out for over fifteen hours.”

Frustrated, I take inventory of the IV bags and wires protruding from my body. “I just took my anti-anxiety pills. I’ve taken them for years. This has never happened before.”

He catches a tear as it spills down my cheek and wipes it away. “I don’t know, baby doll. All I can tell you is that you scared the fuck out of me last night.” His face pales. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Hey…” I reach for his hand, but he pulls away, cursing under his breath as he angrily wipes his own eyes. “Gage, you can’t get rid of me that easily, all right? We’re Ohana, remember?” I pause, waiting for him to complete our private joke.

“And Ohana means family,” he finishes quietly.

We sit in silence, bonding over a silly line from a movie. One that speaks volumes between two surrogate siblings.

Neither of us move as the door opens again, and a throat clears. I turn to find an older man with a balding comb-over in a white lab coat in the room.

“Miss Ryan, I’m Dr. Reid. May I speak to you privately? It concerns your test results.”

Gage pushes his chair back with a heavy sigh, but I stop him with a firm grip on his arm. “This is my brother. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of him.”

Fighting a smile, Gage drop his chin to his chest.

It’s not a lie. As far as I’m concerned, Gage Harlow is my brother.

Dr. Reid glances between us but doesn’t argue. “As you wish. Miss Ryan, you may have been told that you were brought in for a drug overdose—”

“But I didn’t…” I interrupt.

He holds up a hand. “Please let me finish, and I’ll answer any questions you or your brother may have.” I nod, and he continues. “After we pumped your stomach and talked with Mr. Harlow, we discovered something interesting.”

I glance at Gage. “What was that?”

“Mr. Harlow claims the medication he found open was hydroxyzine capsules.”

“Yes, I took two. I have a prescription.” I don’t like where this is going.

“I understand that, Miss Ryan. What I’m trying to tell you is that the lab found no trace of hydroxyzine in your system.”

“That’s impossible.”

“What we found,” he says, “was enough hydromorphone to induce an immediate cardiac arrest.”

“Hydromorphone?” I ask, my hands starting to shake.

“The brand name is Palladone. It’s normally prescribed for severe chronic pain. Usually, only patients who are narcotic tolerant and already using other narcotic medications can take it. Overestimating the amount of hydromorphone needed can cause death from the first dose. You’re lucky to be alive, Miss Ryan.” He gestures to Gage. “If your brother hadn’t acted so quickly, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

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