Chapter 4 - The Whispers in the Dark
By afternoon, the news of Roman Calder’s survival had begun to leak through the criminal underworld of Chicago, but so had the rumors of his vulnerability.
Maggie sat at her small desk in the corner of the room, charting Roman’s vitals on her tablet. The private wing was quiet, but she could feel the tension in the air. Every few minutes, she would hear the heavy footsteps of Roman’s guards in the hallway, or the low, urgent murmur of Declan’s voice on his phone.
The door to the room opened quietly, and a man in a white lab coat stepped inside.
He was not Dr. Walsh.
He was younger, with sharp, dark eyes and a thin, nervous face. He carried a small metal tray with a pre-filled syringe.
"Nurse Bennett," the man said, his voice carrying a slight tremor. "Dr. Walsh asked me to administer a booster of the antibiotic. He wants it done before the shift change."
Maggie stood up, her nurse's instincts immediately on high alert. "I didn't see any booster ordered on the digital chart. And who are you? I haven't seen you on the tenth-floor roster."
"I’m... I’m Dr. Chen," the man said, his eyes darting to Roman, who was asleep on the bed. "I’m the resident on duty for the private wing. The order was just put in."
Maggie stepped between the man and the bed. Her large body completely blocked his view of Roman.
"Let me see the syringe," Maggie said, extending her hand.
The man hesitated, his knuckles tightening around the metal tray. "It’s standard cephalexin, nurse. I don't need to show you—"
"I am the primary care nurse for this patient," Maggie said, her voice dropping into a dangerous, hard register. "Every medication that enters his IV goes through me. Give me the syringe, or I will call security right now."
The man’s face went pale. Suddenly, he dropped the tray, the metal clattering loudly against the floor, and reached into his coat pocket for a small, silver pistol.
Before he could lift the weapon, Maggie moved.
She was not fast in the traditional sense, but she carried the immense, unstoppable momentum of her weight. She slammed her body forward, throwing all her three hundred pounds directly into the man’s chest.
The impact was like being hit by a low-velocity truck.
The man was thrown backward, his head smashing against the heavy oak door, the pistol flying from his hand and sliding across the carpet. He hit the floor with a dull, heavy thud, the wind completely knocked out of him as Maggie pinned him down with her knee.
The door burst open, and Declan and two of his guards rushed in, their guns drawn.
They stopped dead in their tracks.
Maggie was sitting on top of the assassin, her heavy knee pressed firmly into his chest, her face red with exertion, her dark hair falling out of its bun.
"He tried to poison him," Maggie panted, pointing to the syringe on the floor. "And he has a gun under the cabinet."
Declan looked at the man on the floor, then at Maggie, his mouth literally hanging open in disbelief.
"Jesus Christ, Maggie," Declan whispered, stepping forward to kick the pistol away from the assassin’s reach. "You... you tackled him?"
"I am a nurse, Mr. Shaw," Maggie said, her breathing heavy as she stood up, smoothing down her scrub top. "We do what is necessary to protect our patients. Now, get this trash out of my room. He’s making the floor dirty."
From the bed, a low, dry chuckle echoed through the room.
May you like
Roman Calder was sitting up, his gray eyes bright with a dangerous, amused light. He had watched the entire exchange, his hand resting on the sheet, his bare fingers twitching with a strange, dark admiration.
"I told you, Declan," Roman said, his voice low and vibrating with power. "She’s the boss of this room. And she’s a hell of a lot better bodyguard than you are."
