Crashing into Liam Read online

  Crashing into Liam

  By Marion Myles

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  Copyright © March 2019 Marion Myles

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Edited by Kathy Case

  Cover by Robin Ludwig Design Inc. www.gobookcoverdesign.com

  Copywriting by Carol Eastman www.blurbbitch.com

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  Dedication

  To RDM – my last addiction.

  Crashing into Liam

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  An excerpt from: No Time for Goodbye

  Other Books By This Author

  About the Author

  Part One

  Too much of anything is bad, but too much good whiskey is barely enough

  Mark Twain

  Throw moderation to the winds, and the greatest pleasures brings the greatest pains

  Democritus

  Chapter One

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Just wanted to let you folks know we’ve reached our cruising altitude of thirty-six thousand feet. Sorry again for the delay out of JFK. We’re looking to make up time en route, and I’m estimating we’ll touch down in Los Angeles at approximately six forty a.m. In the meantime, sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight. We know you have a choice, and we thank you for choosing American Airlines.”

  With a sigh, Rebecca Diaz let her head rest against the seat. Getting to New York and back in two days was a tough haul and taking the red-eye was not her idea of a good time. Still, it ensured, even with delays or glitches, she’d be at work for her shift the day after tomorrow.

  Rubbing her thumb across the tips of her fingers, she swore she still felt the ashy residue, but there was nothing there. Not even a hint of a smudge stained her skin. Her mother was well and truly gone. All that remained of her was now scattered in Central Park as per her dying wishes. Rebecca flew back to Los Angeles, alone, with nothing except her companions of grief and anger.

  Once again, she couldn’t help wondering what might have been. If her mother had taken the symptoms seriously seven or eight years ago instead of waiting until it was far too late, she’d likely still be alive. But no, she hadn’t wanted to make a fuss. Was worried about the cost. Hated to upset Rebecca’s father.

  And where had her husband been in those last awful months? Nowhere. That’s where. The woman who had supported him and his useless Hollywood dreams had lain dying the worst kind of death, and he’d been in bars or with his druggie friends not even bothering to return her calls.

  At the very end, Rebecca discovered her father had taken some of the hard-earned money she’d given them for her mother’s treatment and used it to buy dope. Then less than twenty-four hours after her mother passed, he’d had the audacity to ask for more money. That had been the last straw. As far as she was concerned, both of her parents were dead.

  Thinking about it now made Rebecca want to scream out all the rage and anguish she’d been carrying around these past eighteen months. Instead, she focused on breathing slowly while her body trembled, and the never-far-away tears painted their watery marks on her cheeks.

  She swiped them away and fiercely told herself there was nothing to cry about. She’d felt alone for years and had been getting along just fine…thank you very much. Now she could focus all her energy on crawling out from under the crushing debt she’d amassed. It was going to take a while. Literally years. But maybe one day she’d finally be able to consider reapplying to medical school and fulfilling her dream of becoming a surgeon.

  Leaning back into the seat again, she closed her eyes. She was so unbelievably tired. The fatigue reached right down to the marrow of her bones. A week off would be heavenly. She’d spend the entire time in bed sleeping without interruption for as long as she darn well pleased. Even though there was no chance of that happening any time soon, it felt good to imagine.

  She tilted her seat back and scrunched up her jacket, jamming it between her head and the window. No reason she couldn’t catch a little shut eye right now. Ruthlessly blocking out the scenes of her mother’s final days, Rebecca let herself drift.

  Overhead, the intercom buzzed. “Are there any doctors flying with us today? If anyone on board has medical training can you please come forward to the front lavatory and make yourself known.”

  Rebecca kept her eyes closed. No way no how. Someone else could deal with this.

  Several minutes ticked by before the same flight attendant once again appealed for help. This time Rebecca grudgingly sat up and surveyed the other passengers. Everyone was looking around the same as she was, but no one appeared to be responding to the announcement.

  Dammit all to hell.

  Unclipping her seatbelt, she crawled past her seatmates, took one last glance around, and resigned herself to dealing with the medical emergency. Hopefully, it was nothing more than someone feeling nauseated. She’d advise fluids and Dramamine which she always carried and be back to snoozing in her seat in no time.

  The flight attendant watched as she approached, her face creased in concern. “You’re a doctor?” the woman asked.

  “A nurse practitioner.” When the woman looked doubtful, Rebecca shrugged. “Hey, if there are any doctors around I’ll be happy to step aside, but it looks like I’m you’re only volunteer.”

  Rebecca glanced down at the woman’s name tag. Suzy. Funny, she didn’t look like a Suzy. If pressed she would’ve guessed Margaret or Francis or something more formal.

  Suzy grabbed her arm. “No, we really need help. Quickly. Through here.”

  She pulled Rebecca behind the curtain into business class and all the way to the front of the plane where the eight first-class passengers were situated. Even though most of the seats had been converted to beds, everyone was sitting up staring toward pod C where two flight attendants and another man hovered over a figure lying prone.

  “Nancy, I’ve got help,” Suzy called out.

  “I think he might be dying,” one of the hovering flight attendants said.

  “What’s the situation?” Rebecca asked.

  “The passenger came out of the bathroom, and his arm was cut. It looked pretty bad. There’s blood everywhere. It wouldn’t stop bleeding.”

  “Where’s your first aid kit,” Rebecca demanded.

  The male flight attendant stepped back. “I’ll get it.”

  Rebecca pushed into the space. The injured man was unconscious and lay on his back. A civilian was crammed in beside him cradling the man’s arm, h
is crisp white shirt covered in brilliant red splotches.

  “Are you a doctor?” Rebecca asked.

  He looked up, terror in his eyes. “No. I’m a manager. Liam is my client.”

  Rebecca’s eyes arrowed back to the unconscious man. Though his chin and jaw were covered with several days’ worth of scruffy beard, and his longish dirty blond hair had fallen across his forehead partially obscuring his features, she knew that face. Knew his eyes were blue tinged with green. His upper lateral incisor was crooked. When he laughed, a dimple popped out in his right cheek. Pretty much every person on the planet knew Liam Connors, rock legend turned Oscar-nominated actor.

  He’d been People’s sexiest man alive more than once. He was gorgeous and talented and mega rich. Men wanted to be him. Women swooned over him.

  Every woman, that is, except Rebecca.

  She had no time for celebrities. More than a few had passed through the ER doors at St. Vincent’s Hospital with their airs of entitlement, their tantrums, and their snooty entourages, wanting every staff member to drop what they were doing and see to their hangnail emergencies. It made Rebecca’s blood boil.

  “You have to help him,” Liam’s manager pleaded.

  “What’s your name?”

  “It’s Jack. Jack Miller.”

  Rebecca nodded. “Okay, Jack. I’m going to see what medical supplies we have on board, and then I’ll assess Liam. We’ll go from there. Did he faint at the sight of the blood?”

  Jack’s eyes shifted away. “I’m not sure,” he mumbled.

  In the background, she heard someone mutter that he’d been wasted and had probably passed out.

  “Here’s the kit.” The male flight attendant thrust it at Rebecca. “We also have a defib machine. Do you want me to get it?”

  “Let’s hold on that a minute. I’m going to need some room, please. Not you, Jack. Keep pressure on the wound for now, okay?”

  Rebecca thumbed open the white plastic box of medical supplies. It was surprisingly well stocked with a small sampling of drugs for allergies, cardiac events, seizures, and the like. First things first though. She grabbed a pair of latex gloves and slipped them on, then freed the stethoscope.

  After kneeling by the bed, she placed it on Liam’s chest. His heartbeat was slow though steady. Rebecca pulled out her phone and tapped the screen to turn on the timer while she silently counted his respiration. It was a relief when she hit double digits, finally settling at eighteen breaths per minute. Gently, she lifted his left eyelid. The pupil was dilated as expected in the dim light. When she shined the flashlight from her phone, it constricted on que.

  She turned to Jack. “I’m going to squeeze in beside you. I need to have a look at the arm.”

  She laid Liam’s arm out alongside his body and straightened the elbow. A towel had been wrapped around it, and when she unwound it and peeled the fabric away, blood gushed along his arm and began pooling under the limb.

  The laceration was situated on the inside of his forearm just below the elbow and didn’t appear particularly monstrous, maybe measuring an inch and a half long. When she used the edge of the towel to dab the blood away, however, she saw it was plenty deep. Within two seconds, it had filled again.

  “Maybe nicked the artery,” she mumbled. “Is there a tourniquet in there? And I need some pillows.”

  “Um…yes, here it is.” Suzy leaned in and handed her a red, webbed strap. “Nancy, pass those over.” Turning she grabbed a couple of pillows from the second flight attendant.

  Rebecca slipped the tourniquet over Liam’s arm and fed the end through the plastic stopper, pulling tight. Taking the offered pillows, she shoved them under Liam’s elbow until the arm was elevated above the level of his heart. Turning back to the wound, she wiped away the excess blood and waited. Some blood dribbled from the edges of the torn skin, but none came spurting up from deeper in the cavity.

  “Good,” she said. “Okay, let’s give this a second and see if the bleeding slows down. Anyone know how he got the wound?”

  “I checked the lavatory,” the male flight attendant said. “There’s a forty-ouncer of Jack Daniels on the floor with the top smashed off. It’s covered in blood.”

  “Typical,” Rebecca muttered. “TSA has us regular Joes just about strip naked to make sure we’re not smuggling anything while celebrities can apparently bring whatever they damn well please.”

  “Um…he actually bought it in Duty-Free,” Jack said.

  Rebecca was glad her olive complexion hid the flush of heat rising on her face. Focus on the job, she ordered herself. She blew out a breath and glanced toward the huddle of flight attendants.

  “Okay, do we have any liquid soap? Something mild but not the anti-bacterial stuff. And some unopened water bottles would be good.”

  Suzy and Nancy rushed away. Jack squeezed his way back in on the other side of Liam. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”

  Rebecca loosened the tourniquet fully and held up a finger to Jack. She waited, counting off thirty seconds and when there was no discernible increase of blood in the wound, she nodded.

  “I was worried he’d maybe hit the brachial artery, but now I don’t think so. The laceration is deep, and it will probably need stitches, but I can strap him up for the time being. The pilot should radio ahead to have them send paramedics to meet us on the ground. They’ll take it from there.”

  Nancy came back with several bottles of water and a container of Cetaphil cleanser. Rebecca turned it over and scanned the ingredient list.

  “Perfect. Thank you.”

  On the bed, Liam coughed. His right hand came up and rubbed across his mouth, and his eyes fluttered open.

  “Thank God,” Jack said, his voice desperately relieved.

  When Liam coughed again and went to push up, Rebecca clamped her hands over his left arm on either side of the laceration “Don’t,” she snapped. “Lie still.”

  He continued struggling for several seconds, but between Rebecca and Jack, they managed to keep him lying flat.

  “What’s going on?” Liam asked, bloodshot eyes locking on Jack’s face.

  “You had an accident in the john,” Jack said, hand still braced on Liam’s shoulder. “We’re going to get you cleaned up. Just stay down there, okay buddy?”

  Suzy came bustling back and tugged on Rebecca’s arm. “Can I have a word?” she whispered.

  “He doesn’t move,” Rebecca ordered. “No one touches the wound. I’ll be right back.”

  Suzy ushered her ahead and into an alcove by the hospitality area. “The captain wants to know if he should reroute the plane. Can the injured passenger safely remain on board until Los Angeles? There’s still another three hours and thirty-eight minutes before we touch down.”

  “All I can tell you is he’s conscious and lucid, and the bleeding is under control. I think he’ll be okay.”

  She nodded, smiling. “That’s great. Thank goodness you were on board.”

  When Rebecca got back to Liam, she was pleased to find him lying quietly in place, just as she’d left him.

  “All right, let’s get this cleaned up. Pass me one of the water bottles. Jack, here’s my phone. Can you light me up please?”

  Jack aimed the flashlight. Rebecca unscrewed the top of the water bottle and carefully poured some into the wound.

  Liam hissed. “Jesus. That stings. Shouldn’t you freeze my arm or something? What kind of doctor are you?”

  “The kind that doesn’t have lidocaine, so you’ll have to be a really brave boy and tough it out. Can you do that for me?”

  For the first time, Liam lifted his gaze to Rebecca. A lazy smile bloomed on his face. “Hey, my doc is pretty hot. You married or anything? When we get to…um…where we going, Jack?”

  Jack sighed. “LA, remember?”

  Liam nodded triumphantly. “That’s right, the city of angels. Well, I’m gonna take you out for a real nice dinner.”

  “Let’s get your arm seen to for now, okay?”
Rebecca said, pushing the elbow straight against the pillow.

  She finished rinsing the wound then carefully dripped in some of the Cetaphil and using her finger gently moved it through the cavity. Liam started muttering a string of curse words, but to his credit, he kept his arm still.

  “Okay, here’s the final rinse. I can’t see any glass in there, but when you get to the hospital, they may need to debride it.”

  Once she’d finished rinsing, Nancy passed her squares of sterile gauze, and Rebecca packed the wound before folding a small towel over the area and wrapping the whole thing with an Ace bandage.

  “That’s pretty tight,” Liam commented.

  “It needs to be. I don’t want the bleeding to start up again, and it’s important to keep the area from separating until they stitch you up.”

  Liam struggled to the sitting position. Rebecca folded down the armrest and placed the pillows on top, settling his arm on the nest.

  “This thing is throbbing like a son of a bitch. I could use a drink.”

  “No, Liam. You’re supposed to be sober and on set in a few hours. We’re already late as it is,” Jack said.

  “I think you’ve had enough,” Rebecca said flatly. “That’s what got you into this mess in the first place. I have some extra strength Tylenol in my purse. That’ll help for now. “

  By the time Rebecca made the trip to her seat at the back of the plane for the Tylenol and returned to first class, Liam was all smiles and appeared to be holding court in his pod. The three flight attendants remained in the area, and a couple of his fellow passengers were standing with them…everyone laughing and joking.

  Liam raised his good arm in a grand gesture. “Here she is, my own personal savior. We’ll be able to tell our grandkids the story of how we met.”

  Rebecca refused to acknowledge the flutter in her belly. Liam had the kind of charisma that just reached out and grabbed a person by the throat. His eyes fixed on hers, and the shocking intensity of his gaze had her taking a stumbling step before she found her footing once again.