The Choice

Chapter 4, The Choice

Chapter Four

Other than going and getting stinking drunk, what else did Sam have to do? So he, along with Jesse, trailed the paramedics. Stoffer and three airport security guards cleared a path for the gurney through the swarm of travelers.

Sam grumbled when they passed the luggage conveyor. He should stop and grab his bag. That would be easier than the corporate hoops he'd have to jump through to reclaim it later. Instead, what did he do? He followed, shoving his hands in his pockets while being escorted out the sliding glass doors to the parked ambulance.

Jesse dogged Sam, his raspy chuckle grating in Sam's ear. "So, explain to me again how you don't know the lady, yet here you are, holding her hand, escorting this pretty young thing to the hospital."

Sam ground his jaw together before firing back at Jesse. "Is it absolutely beyond you to step in and help someone who needs it? She's alone. I'll go with her to the hospital. Then I'm leaving. It's called chivalry, asshole." He hoped it'd send him withering away. It had worked on the young agents he worked with, but now he remembered that with Jesse, it only added fuel to the fire, and he'd use it to dig deeper.

"Helping someone, sure, I've done it. But the two of you? Nah, there's something more. Come on, you and this pretty young miss, you know each other? You two have chemistry. Come on, tell Jesse everything."

Okay, that last remark was too much. Sam whirled around, raised his hand, and jammed his index finger against Jesse's chest with a hard thump.

"Keep your hands down, and don't do that again," Jesse snapped. "Did you forget where we are?"

That was a decent pail of ice water thrown on him. It doused his fiery temper in an instant. Wake up, boy, and look where you are. Words in his head jolted him when he saw the hundreds of people surrounding them, eyes aglow and fascinated, fixed solely upon him. Another scandal—pile it on. That was the warning he'd heard. It would be something he couldn't afford, so instead, he uttered in a low growl, "You stupid ass, fuck off." Sam flinched when Jesse smacked him in a brotherly way in the middle of his back and then let out a boisterous whoop of laughter. This time, he shrugged Jesse off with nothing more than a warning scowl while the paramedics loaded Marcie in the ambulance.

"You always did have a way with words," Jesse said. "Now get in."

* * * *

Sam made a plan as he followed the gurney to a cubicle in the emergency room. Get her settled, see she was looked after, and then leave. Two nurses, a doctor, and the two paramedics assisted Marcie onto the bed.

Sam leaned in to say goodbye but was asked to step aside when Marcie was questioned, poked, and prodded by nurses and interns. Three butterfly strips were taped across the bloody contusion along the front of her hairline. Then, after the standard blood test, they whisked her upstairs for a head CT. Again he was told to wait, so he crossed his arms and waited. He expected to be dismissed to the waiting area, but instead, a pretty, blond intern on staff questioned him.

"How long has she been confused?"

"I guess since she hit her head."

"Can you tell me how she hit her head?"

"She was robbed and pushed. She went down hard and smacked her head on the concrete."

"Are you family?"

"No, I don't know her. I was just behind her in the airport."

"Is there any family we can contact?"