released him, but sheer rage kept her holding on. He lashed out at her again. They were grappling like animals now, and she could smell his sweat, could feel every muscle in his body straining against her. The nurse lost her footing and stumbled, releasing her grip. The old man reached behind Toby's head and grabbed a fistful of her hair. He was thrusting at her now, his erect penis stabbing at her hip. Disgust and fury boiled up in her throat. She tensed her thigh, preparing to knee him in the groin.
Then her target was gone. The man was lifted away by a pair of huge black hands. Robbie Brace hauled the man halfway across the room and barked to the nurse, "Get me some Haldol! Five milligrams IM STAT!"
The nurse ran from the room. She came back a moment later, syringe in hand.
"C'mon, I can't hold him forever," said Brace.
"Let me get at his butt�"
"Do it, do it!"
"But he keeps squirming away�"
"Man, this guy's strong. What've you been feeding him?"
"He's a protocol patient�plus he's got Alzheimer's�I can't get at him!"
Brace shifted his grip, turning the man's rear end toward the nurse.
She pinched a fold of bare buttock and stabbed it with the
needle. The old man shrieked. Bucking, he yanked away from Brace. In a blur of motion, he grabbed a water glass from the nightstand and swung it at the doctor's face.
The glass shattered against Brace's temple.
Toby lunged, catching the old man's wrist before he could swing again.
Viciously she twisted his hand and the broken shard tumbled from his grasp.
Brace wrapped giant arms around the man's shoulders and yelled, "Give him the rest of the Haldol!"
Again the nurse jabbed the needle into the man's buttock and squeezed the plunger. "It's all in! God, I hope this works better than the Mellaril."
"This guy's on Mellaril?"
"Around the clock. I told Dr. Wallenberg it wasn't holding him. These Alzheimer's patients need to be watched every second or they�" The nurse took in a sharp breath. "Dr. Brace, you're bleeding! " Toby glanced up and was alarmed to see blood trickling down Brace's cheek and splattering his white coat. The broken glass had sliced open the skin on his temple.
"We have to stop that bleeding," said Toby. "It's obvious you'll need stitches."
"First let me get this guy into a nice tight Posey restraint. Come on, sir. Let's get you back to your room."
The old man let fly a glob of spit. "Nigger! Let me go!"
"Oh man," said Brace. "You're trying to get on my good side, aren't you?"
"Don't like niggers."
"Yeah, you and everyone else," said Brace, sounding more tired than angry. He half-dragged, half-marched the old man out of the room and into the hall. "Buddy, it looks like you've earned yourself a date with a straitjacket."
"Ouch. Don't make me look like Frankenstein's monster, okay?" Gently Toby emptied the syringe of Xylocaine and withdrew the needle. She had injected local anesthetic along both edges of Robbie's laceration and now she gave the skin a gentle prick. "Feel that?"
"Nope. It's numb."
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have a plastic surgeon stitch you up?"
"You're an ER doc. Don't you do this all the time?"
"Yes, but if you're concerned about the cosmetic result�"
"Why would I be? I'm already so damn ugly. A scar will be an improvement."
"Well, it'll give your face character," she said and reached for the needle forceps and suture. She'd found all the supplies she needed in the well-stocked treatment room. Like everything else at Brant Hill, the equipment was spanking new and top of the line. The table where Robbie Brace lay could be adjusted to a wide variety of positions, which made it convenient for treating anything from scalp wounds to hemorrhoids.
The overhead lights were bright enough for surgery. And in the corner, ready for emergencies, was the cardiac crash cart, a state-of-the-art model, of course.
She swabbed the wound again with Betadine and poked the curved suture needle through the edges of the
Then her target was gone. The man was lifted away by a pair of huge black hands. Robbie Brace hauled the man halfway across the room and barked to the nurse, "Get me some Haldol! Five milligrams IM STAT!"
The nurse ran from the room. She came back a moment later, syringe in hand.
"C'mon, I can't hold him forever," said Brace.
"Let me get at his butt�"
"Do it, do it!"
"But he keeps squirming away�"
"Man, this guy's strong. What've you been feeding him?"
"He's a protocol patient�plus he's got Alzheimer's�I can't get at him!"
Brace shifted his grip, turning the man's rear end toward the nurse.
She pinched a fold of bare buttock and stabbed it with the
needle. The old man shrieked. Bucking, he yanked away from Brace. In a blur of motion, he grabbed a water glass from the nightstand and swung it at the doctor's face.
The glass shattered against Brace's temple.
Toby lunged, catching the old man's wrist before he could swing again.
Viciously she twisted his hand and the broken shard tumbled from his grasp.
Brace wrapped giant arms around the man's shoulders and yelled, "Give him the rest of the Haldol!"
Again the nurse jabbed the needle into the man's buttock and squeezed the plunger. "It's all in! God, I hope this works better than the Mellaril."
"This guy's on Mellaril?"
"Around the clock. I told Dr. Wallenberg it wasn't holding him. These Alzheimer's patients need to be watched every second or they�" The nurse took in a sharp breath. "Dr. Brace, you're bleeding! " Toby glanced up and was alarmed to see blood trickling down Brace's cheek and splattering his white coat. The broken glass had sliced open the skin on his temple.
"We have to stop that bleeding," said Toby. "It's obvious you'll need stitches."
"First let me get this guy into a nice tight Posey restraint. Come on, sir. Let's get you back to your room."
The old man let fly a glob of spit. "Nigger! Let me go!"
"Oh man," said Brace. "You're trying to get on my good side, aren't you?"
"Don't like niggers."
"Yeah, you and everyone else," said Brace, sounding more tired than angry. He half-dragged, half-marched the old man out of the room and into the hall. "Buddy, it looks like you've earned yourself a date with a straitjacket."
"Ouch. Don't make me look like Frankenstein's monster, okay?" Gently Toby emptied the syringe of Xylocaine and withdrew the needle. She had injected local anesthetic along both edges of Robbie's laceration and now she gave the skin a gentle prick. "Feel that?"
"Nope. It's numb."
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have a plastic surgeon stitch you up?"
"You're an ER doc. Don't you do this all the time?"
"Yes, but if you're concerned about the cosmetic result�"
"Why would I be? I'm already so damn ugly. A scar will be an improvement."
"Well, it'll give your face character," she said and reached for the needle forceps and suture. She'd found all the supplies she needed in the well-stocked treatment room. Like everything else at Brant Hill, the equipment was spanking new and top of the line. The table where Robbie Brace lay could be adjusted to a wide variety of positions, which made it convenient for treating anything from scalp wounds to hemorrhoids.
The overhead lights were bright enough for surgery. And in the corner, ready for emergencies, was the cardiac crash cart, a state-of-the-art model, of course.
She swabbed the wound again with Betadine and poked the curved suture needle through the edges of the
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