La Bruja y el Asesino (The Witch and the Assassin)

By Vicki

Three days later Miguel's cast and pins had been removed and the physical therapy had begun in earnest. Working in the physical therapy department nearly 5 hours a day was exhausting, but Miguel pushed himself and the staff with demonic energy. His wardrobe still consisted of hospital gowns and birthday suits, so he had sent me to buy clothes. Now seeing him workout in sweats or shorts was a sight that drew me past the physical therapy area frequently. He still remained my primary patient, and during the times he was not working with the therapists, he was as belligerent and demanding as ever. The entire staff was waiting anxiously for his anticipated discharge the following week.

"Buenos días. ¿Cómo sean su ha la curación enrollada hoy, Sr. Bain?" I sung cheerfully as I walked into his room. My feeble attempt at Spanish brought forth a snort from the occupant of the bed and a barrage of Spanish language that completely flew over my head.

"Yo no puedo estar aquí mientras mis contratos esperan. Shit, puede no usted ve que pierdo dinero a la izquierda y el derecho. ¡Obténgame el fuck fuera de aquí antes yo lo me vuelvo loco ramera!" I vaguely recognized some of the swear words, but essentially, I stood and looked at him blankly.

"And what is the problem today?" I asked as I went about my duties caring for the recalcitrant patient.

"This fucking place is a hell hole - I'm supposed to be fixed by next week and go back to business, but I can't communicate with my accounts, I can't read my mail, I can't do fucking anything" he yelled.

"What kind of business are you in, Miguel?" I used his first name purposefully to try and calm him down. What I got in response was more cursing in Spanish.

"OK, OK…what is it specifically that you need to catch up on your life outside of this 'hell hole?" I asked patiently.

"If I can't get out of here, then I need my computer which was fucking destroyed before I got here."

"Can any computer work? I mean, a computer with Internet access? That's easy to get - I've got a laptop at home. I know that won't replace your personal files, but could you access email?" I don't know why I had made the offer, but once it was hanging out there, I wasn't going to retract it.

Grabbing my arm and pulling me closer to the bed he said, "Chica, if you can get me a computer, I will be your willing slave." I had seen Miguel change his behavior to get what he wanted from all the staff here - so I had expected some type of manipulation. What I hadn't expected was the rush of adrenaline that I felt in my gut as he turned his charm on me.

"Don't promise what you can't deliver," I whispered as my eyes were automatically drawn to his mouth. I couldn't believe I didn't just pull away, but his face, lips and eyes were nearly mesmerizing. The sexual tension between us had flared from time to time. Today, it was a thick cushion between us that sucked the breath from my lungs.

"Believe me Leigh, I will deliver." With the hospital door wide open to his room, he pulled my face to his and ground his lips onto mine. The kiss was harsh, hot and designed to stir a dead woman's sexual embers to life. It stoked my proverbial embers to the bonfire stage. His tongue quickly took control of my mouth and I responded in spades. Losing myself in the passion, I totally forgot who I was, where I was and any idea of acting professionally. That is, until his hand came up to cup my breast and stoke my nipple. Hearing noise from through the open door, I broke away. Standing away from the bed, breathing still ragged, my fingers reached up to touch my kiss-swollen lips. His intense stare turned to a self-satisfied leer as I backed away.

"That won't happen again," I said quickly. Pointing a finger at him I said, "You just put anything like that out of your head right now. I'll bring you a computer to borrow, but you don't have to do anything for me, OK?"

Miguel just shrugged his shoulders and said, "Whatever you want, chica." I could hear his snicker behind me as I stumbled out of the room.

The next day was another long 12-hour shift and before beginning, I took my rarely used laptop into Miguel's room. I was ready to be cool and professional to him - ready to show him our heated exchange the day before had meant nothing…but he was nowhere to be found. Assuming he was busy with therapy and would be back shortly, I hooked up the laptop on the side table, connected the phone cords, and went about my busy day. By the time I returned to his room, Miguel was busy on the computer and totally ignored my cool and detached demeanor. Tossing down his medications with a glass of water, he barely spared a moment to say, "Thanks for the computer, Leigh." The only time he seemed to notice me was when I moved behind him to grab a blood pressure cuff. Then he quickly shut the computer's lid to prevent me from seeing what was on the screen.

Several days passed in relative peace while the therapy continued on Miguel's left leg. He was walking often, but still relied heavily on a cane. His dressing changes had stopped as his surgical wounds healed, and the physician's were planning on discharging him in two days. As for the sexual tension between us, that seemed to be disappearing as fast as his wounds. Although we still talked during treatments, it was of inconsequential things. More often than not, he would ignore his caregivers completely as they went about their duties. The only thing out of the ordinary was a call from one of his relatives. That was interesting itself because none of us knew he had any family at all - and he had continued to be mysteriously vague regarding his plans after discharge. Being the primary nurse, I fielded any questions regarding my patients, so it was up to me to take the phone call.

"Can you tell me about my brother, Miguel Bain?" A low, male voice spoke into the telephone.

"Sure, I can talk with you, but who am I talking to?" I replied.

"This is Roberto, his older brother."

"Well, Roberto, I can't really give out any information on the telephone regarding patients. Would you like to talk with him yourself?" I asked.

"That's all right, I understand. What I'd really like to do is to come up there to visit. Is that possible? What are your visiting hours?"

"You can come anytime between 9 a.m. and 8 p.m. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you since he hasn't had any visitors. I'll be sure to let him know you're coming."

"No, no, don't do that - I want to surprise him. Miguel hasn't seen me in a few years, so I think he'll get a charge out of me seeing him. Can you keep it a secret for me? I'll probably be up there around 7 this evening."

"Oh sure, I can keep it a surprise. Goodbye." I was pleased by the conversation and thought it would be good to shake Miguel up a little. He was becoming too quiet and introverted since borrowing my computer. I figured the fact that Roberto hadn't seen Miguel years probably explained the big difference in their voices.

The day went quickly and I found myself back in Miguel's room at 6:30, making sure everything was done prior to his brother's visit. I had given report to the next shift early since I wanted to be around for the reunion. He hadn't shaved that day after taking his shower, and looked a little ragged around the edges.

"Don't you think you should clean up a little tonight? You look pretty rough," I suggested while straightening up the room.

"What for? You're not planning on attacking me are you?" His amber eyes flicked over at me in amusement before returning to the computer screen. "I thought you didn't want to try that again."

"I just thought that you might want to clean up, you know, in case someone wanted to come and see you or something." I couldn't meet his eyes, as I coyly lead him on.

"Chica…what's going on? You're keeping something from me, I can tell. Come over here." He took my arm and pulled me closer to the bed where he had been working. Entering his personal space, I felt that tension building again and was unwilling to let that confuse me. Looking into his eyes, I found myself unable to lie.

"It's supposed to be a surprise, but you are going to have a visitor tonight. In just a few minutes in fact," I said.

His grip tightened to the point of pain. "What are you talking about?" he said tensely.

"Ow, let go!" His grip loosened slightly, but I knew I'd have a bruise in the morning. "Well, if you must know, you're brother is coming to see you."

"What the fuck are you talking about? I don't have a fucking brother." His eyes flashed angrily as he demanded answers.

"Your brother, Roberto, called earlier to see if he could visit. I didn't know you didn't have a brother - you've never told us anything about your family." My voice rose defensively as I defended my actions.

"Fuck!" Miguel let go of my arm and began to gather up his belongings. "It's Rath! I've to get out of here now!"

"You can't go! You haven't been discharged yet!" I tried to grab his arm and prevent him from packing up his things. "Who is Rath?"

Miguel turned to me and grabbed my shoulders. "He's a professional killer who wants to kill me. You let him know I was here and now he's on his way to kill me. FUCK! I'm not strong enough to deal with him yet. Fuck, fuck, fuck." He continued to curse while he shut down the computer.

"Why does he want to kill you?" Miguel ignored me. "I'm sorry, let me see if I can't head him off before he gets to this floor."

"No, no, just help me get out of here," Miguel said angrily as he finished putting his things together. He pulled me along to the door and carefully looked down the hallway. After assuring it was clear, we began the walk to the elevator.

As we rounded the corner by the nurses' station, we could see through the glass of the atrium-type windows at one end of the hospital. A dark man who appeared to be strongly built was walking quickly down the hall.

"Shit!" Miguel's curse was muttered through clenched teeth. He pulled me back the other way and we quickly moved back where we came from. One of the nurses at the station gave me a puzzled look as we went by, but she assumed that I was just helping Miguel walk as part of his therapy. Luckily, most of the nurses were in the back room getting report on their patients. The man had not seen us as of yet, but if we didn't find a place soon, he would spot us as he came up to the nurses' station.

Miguel kept looking behind us as we hurried down the hallway. Just as we were nearly at the stairs, he yanked me into a small, housekeeping closet at the end of the hall.

"What are we doing here?" I asked as we tried to push the maid's cart to the side and make our way deeper into the closet.

"Quiet!" was his reply.

We pushed past the cart and the shelves of supplies, buckets and towels. At the back of the closet, it suddenly opened to the left and we found a small alcove hidden from the front of the closet. The builders apparently created this small, stooped space under the set of stairs for more storage, but the housekeeping staff had set it up as a 'hidden' break area that could not be seen by just looking inside the door. There was a chair, ashtray and some magazines on the shelf next to the chair. Since neither of us could stand up completely because of the sloping ceiling, Miguel sat on the chair and pulled me down to sit on his lap. I scooted back on his thighs as far away from his fracture site as possible and sat quietly listening.