Free Deadly Medicine by Jaime Maddox

conversation with two classmates who’d been together since tenth grade. While Em went to the bar to order beverages, they told her about their children, and she listened with interest. She was suddenly interested in everyone’s children. She was surprised when Em returned and placed a beer before her. “I don’t drink beer,” she said, annoyed. She’d asked him for a Coke and wondered if he was trying to get her drunk. He’d ordered a bottle of wine at dinner, instead of the glass she’d requested, and they’d ended up wasting most of it.
    “Hey, no problem. I’ll take care of it for you,” their classmate said, and reached for the glass. Before he could grasp it, Emory reached out and knocked it over, spilling the beer not only on the table, but on Jess’s pants as well.
    Fuming, she’d escaped to the bathroom and called one of her friends for a ride home. She hadn’t spoken to Em since then, in spite of his many calls and visits to the ER. She’d told him politely she wasn’t interested and hoped he was honorable enough to keep their agreement. So far he had.
    Jess stared into the early night, focusing on the snow still piled against the sidewalk in front of the house. She’d assumed Em had reacted angrily at their classmate, not wanting him to drink her beer. But what if it wasn’t anger? What if it was fear? Emory wants you, not me. If he was going to drug someone, it would be you.
    Had Em drugged her beer that night? Shaky legs carried Jess down the hallway and into the kitchen where her phone was plugged into the charger on the wall. Picking it up, she dialed a number she now knew by heart. “Medical center, how may I direct your call?”
    “Hi,” she said. “This is Dr. Benson. Can I have the lab, please?”
    Her call was answered on the first ring. “Laboratory, this is Dave speaking.”
    “Hi, Dave. It’s Dr. Benson. Do you still have the spinal fluid on Dr. Thrasher?”
    “Hold on, Doc. I’ll check. We usually keep that stuff for six months, so I’ll bet it’s here.”
    Jess tapped the counter, waiting, wondering. How did her life get so fucked up? When did she become so unhappy? Why did Ward seem to make her so angry? Ward was never anything but kind to her, and other than the night she’d gone into attack-mode, she’d never done anything wrong. At least that Jess knew of. But everyone has secrets, right? She wondered if she was really mad at Ward at all. After all, Ward’s behavior that night had given her the escape she needed. Why was she so angry? Why did she say the cruel things she did? Was it just easier to be angry than sad? And if she thought about it, she supposed she was a little sad about how things had turned out with Ward. Or was she really just sad in general? It was too exhausting to think about.
    It wasn’t so long ago that they’d been happy, that she’d wanted Ward. Back then she would have pulled Ward into her arms right there in the driveway and then offered her a coffee when she walked through the door. She would have built a fire in the living-room fireplace and spent an evening together, both of them doing their own thing, but with a comfortable companionship that Jess once enjoyed. Being close to Ward was dangerous, though. Ward’s drinking made Jess edgy. Ward was too soft, too. Jess needed more definition in her life, not someone like Ward who went along with everything and didn’t argue. Jess needed some accountability, someone who stood up for herself, stood up to her. Someone who cared enough to question her decisions, not just give in.
    She longed for something else, too—to let her guard down and be free, to be herself. What would Ward say if she knew the real Jess? What would anyone say? Maybe being alone was her best option.
    Shaking her head to remove the uncomfortable thoughts, Jess willed herself into the mind of Dr. Benson. Jess was really fucked up, but Dr. Benson was still a highly functional, exceptionally talented physician. Right now,