Chapter 24

KEN STOPPED in front of the E.R. doors to County Hospital and rubbed his scratchy eyes. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night, worrying about Georgia, stewing in the misery of what he'd done to her.

Interspersed among the despair, of course, were more positive images. Of her at the mall, flustered after their encounter, laden with shopping bags. Of her taking his blood, then goading him into rallying his buddies for a good cause. Of their kiss in the park, when she'd tasted like sweet relish and fresh air. Of her running through the church parking lot in that filmy blue dress. Of her sitting on the floor of his living room, playing with Crash. Of their frenzied lovemaking in the dark closet. Of the light of possibilities in her amazing blue eyes when she'd come to the station yesterday seeking his help, never imagining he was the guilty party. Some superhero.

Last night had crawled by, and since Franks had fixed the air conditioning unit, he couldn't blame the temperature. But he'd discovered that the fires of regret could be just as hot as the Southern sun.

Ken took a deep breath for courage. He simply had to see her again, and although he knew her address, he didn't feel comfortable going to her apartment. The woman was already spooked. And the fact that Rob Trainer hadn't contacted him probably meant she hadn't told her boyfriend the truth, which made him feel even worse.

The doors opened automatically, and he walked inside, panning the area for a glimpse of Georgia. His heart pounded in his ears.

"May I help you, Officer?" a woman at the admissions desk asked.

"Nurse Georgia Adams—is she working today?"

The woman pointed behind him.

Ken turned to see Georgia staring at him, hugging herself. At the sight of her sad, heavy eyes, he practically tore the hat he was holding in two. After a hard swallow, he walked toward her and stopped. "Georgia—"

"Why are you here?"

Mindful of the ears all around them, he grasped at the only straw at his disposal. "To have you check my blood pressure." He took the fact that she didn't throw something at him as a good sign and added, "Just as you ordered."

"Anyone can take it," she murmured.

"Please."

She wet her lips, then inhaled and said, "Wendy, I'll be in exam room three."

Her voice was tight, and her body language closed as he followed her. Ken remembered the time he and Klone had entered an apartment building where an armed man had holed up after a bank robbery. What could it mean that he was more afraid now than he'd been then? And that the image of Georgia's tear-streaked face in the bus window had wounded him more than the lead he'd taken in the shoulder when they had rushed the criminal?

"Have a seat," she said, sweeping her arm toward a sterile chair. He recognized the room as the same one in which she'd bandaged Crash. Ken closed the door behind them, then lowered himself onto the small chair.

"Georgia—"

"Your arm, please," she said, holding out a blood pressure cuff.

He lifted his arm so she could fasten it tightly. She refused to look at him as she squeezed the plastic bulb that forced air into the cuff around his arm. When the pressure bordered on pain, she released the air, watching the gauge.

"It's still a little on the high side, but within normal range for a man of your size." She peeled off the device with a rip of Velcro.

"Okay, thanks." He stood slowly. "Georgia, I'm so sorry for what I did."

"So you said in your phone message."

"I wanted to tell you in person."

She nodded, then pressed her lips together. "Ken, this whole situation has thrown me for a bit of a loop. I'm still trying to sift through how I feel about it… and how I feel about you. I need to take a beat."

When he began to feel light-headed, he realized he'd been holding his breath. It was a fair response from his body considering the revelation that had arrested his brain: He loved her.

He'd never felt more helpless in all his life. He was the biggest fool in Birmingham, maybe in the entire southeastern United States. A woman like Georgia Adams came along once in a lifetime—maybe. How ironic that he'd spent most of his adult life trying to figure out how to stay out of a relationship, and just when he was thinking about the possibility of maybe sort of trying to picture himself with one woman, she'd slipped through his fingers.

No—he'd pushed her away with his games of deceit and manipulation.

"Thanks for not hating me," he murmured.

She closed her eyes briefly. "I don't like you right now, but I couldn't hate you, Ken."

It was something. While he had a thread of hope to hang onto, he turned and strode out of the room as fast as his long legs would take him. He had jammed his hat on his head and was nearly out the door when he heard a man calling, "Officer Medlock!"

He turned and conjured up a pleasant expression. The little man looked like a Poindexter, but he had an excellent reputation in the city. "Hello, Dr. Story. What can I do for you?"

The man gave him a flat smile. "I wanted to let you know that after our conversation Saturday morning, I decided to remove the reprimand from Nurse Adams's file."

"Thank you," he said, truly relieved at the one bit of good news.

"From your explanation, I realize she did her best to circumvent the situation."

But as usual, Ken thought, he'd pushed until he'd gotten his way, and in the process, had jeopardized the woman's job. What a selfish bastard he'd become. Never opening himself to other people, never considering how his actions might affect others, never putting his own emotions on the line.

"My wife runs the city blood bank," Dr. Story continued. "I heard about you rallying your fellow officers to build the reserves. We're indebted to you, Officer Medlock. If there's ever anything I can do for you, just ask."

Ken started to shake his head, then recalled his emotions after the church incident. He'd acknowledged that he could almost identify with the madman because if he were about to lose Georgia, he'd never wield a weapon but he'd be mighty tempted to make a fool of himself somehow.

Georgia said she wanted an honest man. Well, he'd blown it up to this point, but he could at least be honest about how he felt about her, whether it changed her mind about him or not.

Turning a smile toward the good doctor, he said, "As a matter of fact, Doc, there is something you can do for me."

* * *

GEORGIA LEANED on the exam table, trying to collect herself.

"Hey, are you okay?"

She looked up to see that Toni had poked her head into the room. Georgia sighed and nodded. "What are you doing down here?"

"I had a break and I thought maybe you could use one, too."

"Could I ever." Georgia averted her gaze from her friend's quizzical look as they headed toward the break room.

"Well, I thought you'd be glad to know that I just told Dr. Baxter that my name isn't Terri."

She managed a smile. "Good for you. What did he say?"

Toni grinned. "He said the only way he could remember the name Toni was to think of Italian food—you know, like rigatoni. Oh, and would I like to have dinner with him?"

Despite her own recent romantic disasters, Georgia was happy for her friend. "I knew you'd get your man."

Toni's smile dimmed. "Okay, Georgia, 'fess up. What's wrong?"

Georgia glanced around, then said, "Ken stopped by."

"No kidding? What did he say?"

She grunted. "Same thing—that he was sorry."

"Maybe he is."

"Well, that's not good enough."

"Georgia, what do you want him to say?"

She frowned. "I don't know. All I know is I feel like a complete fool for having feelings for him." She fed coins into a soda machine. "He was probably laughing at me the entire time."

"I doubt that. I'm not taking up for the guy, but anyone can make a mistake."

"Toni, a mistake is adding two numbers wrong. The man has a fundamental character flaw—he doesn't care about other people." She blinked back a wall of sudden tears. "He certainly doesn't care about me."

Toni reached forward to squeeze her arm sympathetically.

A voice Georgia recognized as Dr. Story's came over the intercom. "Please stand by for an important message."

She winced. She'd forgotten to stop by for her personal copy of her official reprimand. What a fun errand that would be.

"Georgia, this is Ken."

She missed her mouth and spilled her soda down the front of her scrubs.

Toni stared at her wide-eyed. "He's on the intercom."

"I love you," he said, his voice strong and resonating. "I don't expect this to change your mind, I just wanted you to know."

Georgia dropped the can and allowed Toni to scramble for it while she processed Ken's revelation. She heard muted applause in the halls, and several people walked by the vending room, giving her the thumbs-up.

"What are you going to do?" Toni screeched, jumping up and down.

She shook her head. "He doesn't mean it."

"Are you crazy? The man told you he loved you over the intercom, for heaven's sake!"

"He's just trying to ease his conscience. Men like Ken Medlock will say anything when they're backed into a corner." She should know—she'd seen her father's sugary words and elaborate gifts melt her mother's resolve. Well, she'd rather be alone the rest of her life than give herself to a man on whom love would be wasted.

"You're simply going to ignore him?"

Georgia fed more coins into the vending machine, albeit with shakier fingers. "That's right. I'm simply going to ignore him."

At least she would try.