Page 87 of Forever Never
“Damn it,” she muttered.
No inhaler there.
Ignoring the looming, frowning cop in her living room who was staring at her with his arms crossed, she went into the bedroom and dragged her suitcases out of the closet and began going through the zippered pockets.
“Find it?”
Brick’s voice came from the doorway behind her.
Remi ignored him and opened the nightstand drawer. Shit. Where the hell was it?
She put her hands on her head and paced in front of the tiny closet, trying to pinpoint the last time she remembered having it. She always carried it to yoga class after her instructor had told her she was a “boner head” for not keeping it with her. She’d gotten in the habit of stashing it in whatever purse she was carrying.
She paused, mid-step.
The headlights in the mirrors. The hard jerk forward and the snap back.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
“What is it?” Brick asked grimly.
“I…I think I lost my inhaler in the accident.”
“You haven’t had one since you broke your arm?”
It was such a blur. The ride home. The pressure in her chest. The hospital afterward.
Remi swiped a hand over her face, trying to push the images away. Trying to focus on the present.
“I guess so,” she admitted.
It was irresponsible. Especially given the fact that she’d ended up in the emergency department with an asthma attack while her friend fought for her life in the ICU. That’s when the attending doctor had realized her arm was broken.
Her only thought after that was to get out of town. To go where no one could find her.
“That’s unacceptable, Remington,” Brick said. He’d stepped into the room, crowding her against the bed. She could feel the heat pumping off him at her back. His aura was probably a roiling mess of frustration and anger.
She couldn’t exactly blame him.
“Do you at least have your daily meds?” he asked.
“I ran out two days ago,” she said in a small voice. She crossed her arms over her chest and hunched her shoulders against the judgment she was sure he was going to deliver.
Instead, she heard him sigh. Felt the heat of his breath on her neck.
“Come on then. Change out of your wet clothes, and let’s get it taken care of,” he said.
She turned to look at him. “What? No lecture?”
“I think you’ve been through enough for one day. I’ll lecture you tomorrow or the next day when I’m not so pissed off.”
She wasn’t going to say “thank you.” Because she didn’t want him to think he was forgiven for any of his other transgressions. Instead, she gave him a tight nod and skirted around him. “Fine,” she said.
* * *
Dr. Sara Ferrin was a tall,competent Black woman with a no-nonsense bedside manner. But Remi wasn’t fooled by her cool, professional demeanor. The woman was wearing Ferragamo pumps in the health center at the end of February. There was a human being with great taste beneath that white coat.
Unfortunately, right now, that human being was judging her. Racing into a rescue situation with no training. Going without a rescue inhaler for weeks. There would be no lollipops for Remi from the inimitable Dr. Ferrin.
