Steal My Heart (2 page)

A weak cough puffed from his lips, and pulling back suddenly, she met the obsidian gaze boring into hers. She felt a rush of heat skate down her spine. Goose bumps puckered her skin, and awkwardly, she looked away, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“He’s awake! He’s breathing!” the man staunching the wound observed joyfully.

A series of strained coughs sent her gaze riveting back to the stranger, and fearing he’d choke, Maggie enlisted her helper to turn him on his side. The vagrant was a large man, and she noted that beneath the padding of his clothing he was a solid bulk of muscle—another incongruity with this hobo. She struggled to move him, and strangely her heart clenched when he groaned in obvious pain.

Just then, the rattling train screeched to a halt, jerking her off balance against him. Maggie shot out a hand, fumbling for purchase so she wouldn’t topple completely. A large palm snaked from under the dark coat and clutched her hand, stabilizing her and preventing her awkward tumble. The cool hand continued to grasp hers even after the threat of a fall had vanished. Maggie flinched on the inside, a familiar aversion crawling through her. His hand was streaked heavily with dirt and the surfaces of his fingers felt rough with calluses. She swallowed hard and attempted to disengage her appendage, but the strong fingers tightened their hold, encasing her tiny hand.

Voices echoed around them when the doors to the subway car slid open. Paramedics rushed in, carrying a gurney and medical supplies. The conductor ushered the querulous passengers from the car as the medical team got to work. Maggie’s gaze longingly followed the retreating figures. This was her chance to escape. She wanted to float away with the wave of bodies through the sliding door. A volley of questions was lobbed at her, and her attention was drawn back to the medical personnel kneeling on the floor. She blinked and stared blankly at the puzzled face of the EMS worker. Her mind backpedaled to his question. She looked down at the injured man whose eyes were now placidly closed. His chest rose and fell shallowly. Had he lost consciousness again? She decided he hadn’t because he still had a firm grip on her hand.

“No, no. I’m not his next of kin. He just stumbled in here, bleeding,” Maggie explained as they drew the gurney along the opposite side of the stranger.

The technician eyed her suspiciously, and then motioned for his team to get into position.

“You’ll have to let go of his hand now. We need to get him onto the stretcher.”

Maggie tugged on her hand, but again she was unable to separate from his vise grip. Her face flushed as she met the impatient gaze of the EMT worker.

“I said you have to let him go, ma’am.”

“I—I’m trying,” she explained, and knew the technician thought she was lying. They thought she knew him but somehow didn’t want to admit it.
Why would she lie?

“It’s ok to let go. You can ride with us to the hospital.”

Maggie’s jaw dropped. She stammered clumsily as she started to explain that she didn’t want to go anywhere with them. She
gazed down at the stranger’s limp form on the ground. They believed him to be unconscious and assumed
she
was the one who wouldn’t separate herself from him! But she’d seen him open his eyes just before they’d arrived. Why would he pretend?

Maggie chewed anxiously on her bottom lip. Maybe he had no family, and was alone and scared. Maybe since she was a nurse he assumed she’d provide comfort and compassion. She’d revived him and unwittingly become his savior. Maggie cursed herself for publicly parading her uniform. Her heart was saddened by this man’s hapless circumstances, and she felt deeply sorry he’d been injured, but she was weary and overwrought. She wanted to go home and shower away the bacteria and viruses she knew had happily taken up residence on her skin. She was certain her defenses had been breached, and knew that by tomorrow she’d be coughing and sneezing. She’d be lucky to not catch some type of contagious rash. Her skin was already starting to itch as she imagined small mites fleeing from his body to find a new unsullied residence on hers.

“It—it’s him. He won’t let me go,” she repeated lamely.

“Fine. Have it your way,” the EMT muttered testily. “We don’t have time to stand here and argue with you.”

“But—”

“Just stay behind the gurney.” He had clearly lost his patience with her.

She started to intensify her protest, but soon realized the futility. She clamped her lips closed and instead, shot visual daggers at her grungy patient.

She couldn’t believe she’d gotten into this mess!

Maggie sat in the waiting area of Washington Memorial Hospital’s emergency room. She was fuming. That homeless man had not released her hand until they’d rolled through the doors of the hospital. During the ride she’d endured clandestine glances from the EMT workers that had caused her nerves to thrum uneasily. The vagrant had continued to feign his unconscious state. At times she thought she’d sensed those dark orbs boring into her, but every time she’d looked down, his eyes had been serenely closed. She knew he was sentient because on more than a few occasions she’d felt his calloused thumb brush slowly over her skin, sending strange sensations jettisoning up her arm.

Since reaching the hospital, she couldn’t quell her disquiet. Uniformed policeman were milling about in inquisitive clusters, speaking to hospital personnel. A burly security guard had stoically greeted her when she’d arrived. After escorting her to an enclosed waiting area he’d issued strict instructions not to leave. Maggie frowned again, wondering why she’d been detained.

“Are you Maggie Lawson?”

Maggie turned at the sound of her name and faced a very pregnant physician. Her eyes scanned the woman’s pretty face but kept returning to the large protuberance clearly visible beneath the strained edges of her lab coat.

“You’re huge,” Maggie blurted, and then winced apologetically at the verbal slip.

A soft laugh issued from the doctor as she lovingly caressed the hump of her belly. Her green eyes sparkled when she looked back at Maggie.

“It’s ok, really. I know I am. I’m due in three weeks. Everyone thinks I’m having twins, but there’s only one in there. My husband is huge. He takes after him, I think.”

Maggie returned her kind smile, thinking hers was the first friendly face she’d seen since walking into the hospital.

“I’m Dr. Nina Connolly. I have a few questions,” the doctor explained as she lowered herself into a seat opposite Maggie.

Dr. Connolly’s face sobered as she stared at Maggie. “Your friend is getting prepped for surgery now. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

Maggie blew out an exasperated breath. “He’s not my friend. I keep trying to tell everyone that! Why doesn’t anyone believe me?”

Dr. Connolly looked taken aback. “Do you know his name?”

“No!”

“Do you have any idea how he sustained the gunshot wound?”

Maggie’s felt her face leach its color. “
Gunshot wound?”

“Yeah, he’s lucky. The bullet didn’t damage much muscle or tissue, but he’s lost a great deal of blood. We have to go in to stop the bleeding.”

Disbelief caused her breath to lock in her lungs. She hadn’t given a thought as to how the man had sustained his wound.
My God! Why would anyone shoot a poor homeless man?
She shook her head slowly and pushed back her hair.

“I’m sorry. I have no answers for you. I don’t know him.” She followed Dr. Connolly’s gaze to the man stalking towards them with two uniformed officers at his heel.

Maggie knew at once she didn’t like the gentleman. Keenly assessing eyes peered out of a lean, unshaven face. Oily hair was slicked back and plastered to his balding head, while his disheveled clothes looked as though he’d slept for days in them. She noticed what looked like a small ketchup smudge on his chin and had to squelch the urge to offer him a sani-wipe.

“Alright, Connolly, I need to speak to the John Doe,” he grated out.

Maggie watched as Dr. Connolly rose from her seated position, surprisingly graceful considering her added girth.

“No way, Detective Sullivan. He’s headed into surgery. He’s barely conscious.”

Maggie could see the anger radiating from the detective like a visible aura. He shifted his weight and pinioned the doctor with a menacing stare. “Look, I got three corpses and no explanations. I’ve got witnesses who saw your John Doe coming out of the alley where the bodies were found.” Maggie flinched backward as the detective stretched to his full height, towering over the auburn haired physician. “I need answers, and I need them now!” he bellowed.

Maggie’s jaw slackened.
Oh God
.
Had her hobo shot those men? Had she resuscitated a murderer? And to think, she’d actually felt sorry for him!
No wonder she’d been detained.
Did they think she had something to do with those murders?

“Your answers will have to wait,” Dr. Connolly stated coolly.

“I’ve got a mind to arrest you for obstruction of justice!”

Maggie watched the doctor’s green eyes narrow. “I’m the director here, and I’m not going to let you run amuck in my ER. There’ll be plenty of time to question him
after
he’s out of surgery.”

Moments ticked by as the detective stood his ground. He finally scrubbed a hand across his patchy stubble and warned evenly, “You better make sure he doesn’t die during surgery or there’ll be hell to pay.” At that he turned to Maggie and barked, “I need to talk to you next!”

Maggie quivered with fear as she watched him stomp away. Her mind was still busy absorbing the exchange she’d just witnessed.
Her hobo was most likely a murderer!
She shook her head in a futile attempt to clear it. Had she been thinking of him as
her
hobo? What was wrong with her?

“Don’t worry. His bark is worse than his bite.” The doctor nodded to the hovering detective.

Maggie’s face pinched in distress. Her brain struggled to maintain a coherent thought.

She turned and stared at Dr. Connolly’s kind visage. She could feel panic widen her eyes. Her heart fluttered like a million butterfly wings beneath her breast, and her breath panted irregularly through her parched lips. She was absolutely certain now that she was going to faint. Would it be too much to ask for someone to lay a clean drape on the floor?

Maggie guessed it was almost midnight when she finally turned the key in the door to her apartment. She was depleted mentally and physically. Exhaustion wrapped around her like a fist, wringing out any remaining energy or rational thought. This harrowing experience had been many lessons learned.
Never
ride the subway.
Never
wear her nurse’s uniform in public.
Never
resuscitate a hobo murderer. And most importantly,
never
speak to David again! As if thinking of him had conjured his corporeal form, the door to the apartment across from hers cracked open. A shaggy dark head appeared, then the door flew open and David came bounding over to her.

“Where on earth have you been, Mag? I’ve been worried sick!”

She pursed her lips and blatantly ignored him. Which was difficult because he was wearing a flaming pink tutu over his jeans and tee-shirt. She pushed open her door and entered her apartment, David at her heels.

“Do you know what time it is? Where have you been?” David demanded, deepening his voice as he assumed his stern fatherly persona.

Just inside her threshold Maggie turned abruptly to face him, closing her door with a decisive thud. She handed him her work bag and initiated her post work decontamination ritual. She tossed her keys into the drawer of a small table sitting near the door.

“I would tell you, but I’m not talking to you,” she snapped.

“Why? Because—” David halted abruptly. His expressive brown eyes grew large as he took note of her dirty nurse’s uniform. “Why do you look like you’ve been attacked by an angry mob of bacteria?”

“David, it was infinitely worse than that.” She issued a bombastic sigh and ignored his teasing.

She slipped her shoes into a plastic bag and hung them on a hook in the closet beside the door. Ferreting through her pockets, she disposed of loose change and sundries. A clump of dirt on the back of her hand caught her attention and disgusted, she scratched at it.

“Wow. I’m sorry, Mag.”  David’s brows drew up as he passed her a larger plastic bag from the closet. “Tell me what happened?”

Maggie stepped out of her nursing skirt, clucking her tongue at the dark blotches and streaky blood stains on its front. She folded it and placed it in the plastic bag.

“I took the
subway
.” She shot him an accusing look, and then continued, satisfied at least that he looked chagrined. “I had to do mouth-to-mouth on an injured homeless man who turned out to be a murderer, then he wouldn’t let me leave, and the EMS guys thought I was crazy and playing games with them, then I went to the hospital where this wretched detective interrogated me and threatened to throw me in prison!” she rushed her soliloquy out in one continuous, petulant breath.

David stood silent for a few heartbeats. His face then morphed with elaborate shock. “Wow,” he stated blandly. “I can’t believe you took the
subway
.”

Maggie harrumphed in frustration, about to vent her roiling emotions on her best friend. She couldn’t believe he was being flippant at a time like this. She knew he didn’t believe her story and thought she was just being melodramatic. He probably thought she’d just fallen into a ditch or something, and was now trying to hammer his guilt about not driving her home.

“No, really, I could have been killed by the hobo!” She handed him her nursing top to fold and place in the plastic bag while she peeled off her white stockings.

“There’s something left here in the pocket,” she heard him say.

“Take it out. These disgusting things have to go right in the laundry!” she exclaimed, and distracted by the clump of dirt on the back of her hand, started to scratch at it again. She balled up her stockings and added them to the heap then took the bag. David toed off his shoes, bagged them and hung them next to hers in the closet.