Page 40 of The Criminal’s Cure

After the night we had, the sound of my alarm feels like nails on a chalkboard.

I’ve got an instant headache and I haven’t even opened my eyes yet.

I probably should have reconsidered one or two of those champagnes or maybe the third or fourth round of sex Roman and I had once we got home, because I’m hurting today and I have to be to the hospital in an hour.

I reach out for Roman, but his side of the bed is cold.

The running water in the bathroom tells me he's been up for a while. When we went to bed last night, he didn’t elaborate on what exactly he had to do, just that he would be occupied for most of the day.

I had a hunch that both of us would be looking forward to a quiet night at home after last night.

The gala was a rush of emotions, and I’m just as exhausted mentally as I am physically.

Bits and pieces of the evening run through my mind, including Roman knocking Dr. Bauer out on the cold marble floor of the banquet hall.

I could still vividly see Dr. Bauer’s head snapping back with the force of the blow and hear the sound of Roman’s fist connecting with his jaw.

Although Dr. Bauer deserved it, it still makes me cringe.

I know that that side of Roman exists, but I didn’t like seeing it firsthand.

I doubt Dr. Bauer and I will be on good terms after that.

Then there was the confrontation that Roman had with my dad.

The sting of my dad’s words is still fresh, but Roman swiftly came to my defense in a way that I wasn’t used to.

He defended me; he supported me; he loved me like I’ve never been in all my life and that’s what sticks out to me most of all.

When my alarm reaches the end of the snooze cycle, I reluctantly pull myself out of bed. Reaching for a robe, I slip it over my body. It’s not surprising that I didn’t even end up in pajamas last night, but the morning light makes me slightly more modest.

The bathroom door is cracked open, and as I get closer, I can see Roman leaning against the counter shaving his face.

He’s shirtless, in only a pair of jeans, as he hums along to a song playing from his phone.

Pushing the door open a little more, I lean against the frame and soak in every detail of his broad, muscled back.

No matter how many times I see it, just the sight of him makes my knees weak.

I’ve traced the lines of every single tattoo on his body at least a dozen times, but I feel like I always find something new in his artwork.

This morning, it’s a pair of songbirds right at the base of his neck.

I’ve never noticed it before, probably because they’re entwined in a larger picture, but they’re stunning.

Inside one are the initials RM, and inside the other, NC.

My brow furrows in confusion. The RM is pretty self-explanatory, but the other one is baffling. NC? What does that stand for?

“Are you just going to stand there staring all morning?” Roman smirks at me through the mirror.

I smile, joining him in the bathroom. “I was just admiring how handsome you are.”

“Oh, well, in that case…” Roman sets his razor on the counter and turns toward me. “You are in luck. This is a hands-on, interactive exhibit. In fact”—he reaches for my hand and tugs me forward, trapping me between his knees—“touching is encouraged.”

“Mmm, I do like the sound of that. But you know that if we start this, neither one of us will make it to work today.

“ I smile, reaching up and wiping a bit of shaving cream off his nose with my thumb.

Roman lurches to the side, pretending to bite me.

He hungrily kisses my neck, dragging his teeth along the skin and smearing shaving cream all over me.

“Roman, stop!” I try to squirm out of his grasp, but the more I move, the tighter he clenches his legs around me.

“Fine. You win. We’ve both got work to do. But I plan on picking this back up tonight.”

“You better. It’ll be the only thing getting me through the day.” I sigh, breaking out of his grasp and picking up a wet washcloth to clean his shaving cream from my neck.

“You know, you don’t have to go back. You could just quit,” he suggests, grabbing his razor and resuming his shave.

“No, I can’t. I turned down the LA position last night, and if I quit this job, I’ll be completely out of work.” I shake my curls out gently. The mascara underneath my eyes and rat’s nest in my hair makes me fully regret just falling into bed last night.

“You can always have your job here back.” He winks. Before leaving, he gives me one last deep kiss. “See you tonight?”

I nod.

“Ernie is going to be at the hospital with you today.”

“Does he have to be? It’s weird having someone hanging around me all the time. I can’t work in those conditions.” I like Ernie, but it’s getting a little old, and it seems like the threats have died down.

“Nice try.” Roman chuckles, playfully slapping my butt. “He’s coming. End of discussion.”

I let out a heavy, petulant sigh and fold my arms over my chest. It’s not really that big of a deal, but with the mood I’m in, everything is going to irritate me today.

Roman slips his shirt over his head, but even with it on, the wings of the songbirds peek out from the top, reminding me of the strange initials on his back. “Hey, I’ve never seen the tattoo of the birds on your back. It’s really neat.”

“Thanks. I got it for Talia. Birds symbolize immortality.”

“What do the initials NC mean, then?”

“Natalia Castillo,” he says. Why does that name sound so familiar to me? “That was Talia’s real name. She didn’t take my name when we got married. She wanted to keep some separation, so she wasn’t a target.”

That explains why I never found any records for in the hospital.

All of a sudden, an idea hits me. I’ve been thinking about the perfect way to thank Roman for everything he did yesterday, and maybe now that I know Talia’s real name, I can figure out what happened.

Bringing him a bit of relief and closure could be the perfect thing.

“That’s really beautiful, Roman.”

“Thanks.” He kisses me one more time. “I’ll call you in a bit to check in. Please don’t give Ernie a hard time.”

“Yes, sir.” I fake salute him.

Roman groans, dropping his head back. “Fuck, I love it when you call me that.”

“I love you,” I call after him.

“I love you, too, Maddie.”

After Roman leaves, I quickly get myself ready.

I’m anxious to get to work now that I know Talia’s real name.

I don’t know what I’ll do with the information once I find it, but I have to try.

There’s no doubt in my mind that Roman will seek revenge on whoever is responsible, but doesn’t he deserve to?

Talia is dead, and no one is being held accountable.

It goes against everything I took an oath for, but I kind of understand it.

When I get to the hospital, I check on my patients. It’s a relatively quiet morning in the emergency room, but I don’t dare say that out loud. By ten o’clock, it’s almost a ghost town, so I head upstairs to the Records department.

“Hey Juliana!” I greet the tech. “I’m looking for an old file a client is requesting. Could you take a look for me?”

“Absolutely.” She smiles. “What’s the name?”

“It’s Natalia Castillo.”

“Hmm.” She frowns, sympathy filling her eyes. “I know exactly who you’re talking about. Such a tragedy. Dr. Bauer was actually looking at this file this week, too.”

Bauer was looking into this? Something about the timing of all of this feels off.

She grabs the file off the counter and hands it to me. “Here you go.”

I thank her, and then I quickly turn toward the lounge.

The file feels like it’s burning a hole in my hand, but I want to be alone when I look through it. I’m anxious about what I’m going to find, and even more anxious about what I’m going to do once I know. How could I ever keep something like this from Roman, knowing how it eats him up?

When I finally reach the lounge, I shut the door behind me and nearly fall back into my chair. I brace myself before opening it.

At first, it looks like a routine case. While critically injured when she arrived, she was at least stable. They rushed her into emergency surgery to stop the internal bleeding and the surgeon on-call was…Dr. Bauer.

That bastard. He wasn’t protecting someone else; he was protecting himself.

I clench my jaw, digging further into the file. Talia’s official cause of death was that she lost too much blood, which seems odd for someone who was declared stable. I turn to the medications page and when I do, my heart stops. Why is my signature on this page? Did I—Oh my God.

Things start to come back to me. I had just started my training at St. Luke’s with Dr. Bauer as my mentor.

It was so early on that I wasn’t even cleared to participate in surgery yet, so when he was called into an emergency surgery that day, I had to wait outside.

After a few minutes, he asked me to go to the meds station and get a dose of Warfarin.

It’s a common blood thinner and we use it a lot when we’re worried about people getting clots post surgery, but it’s the exact opposite of what someone would use when the patient is still actively bleeding.

Since I was outside, I didn’t know what was happening during the procedure, so I took his word for it.

I got the Warfarin and brought it back for him.

When I got back, he swore he had asked me for a clotting medication instead, and said that I must have misheard in the commotion of things.

He sent me off to get the right medication, but he kept the Warfarin, and I didn’t even think twice about it because I was so embarrassed I messed it up to begin with.

Except now, I don’t think I messed up at all.

There was no mistake. No miscommunication. It was intentional. No wonder Bauer had tried so hard to hide this from Roman. Bauer meant to kill Talia, and I gave him the medication to do it.

I feel sick as I stare at my name on the medicine log. Tears well in my eyes as I realize what this means. I might not have been the one to kill Talia, but if I had paid more attention or taken the meds back myself, or something— anything —maybe I could’ve stopped it.

God, Roman is never going to forgive me.