Free Double-Back (Jake Waters Book 3) by Bob Blink

dozens of witnesses back at the club, and she had run through the light long after it had turned red.  She recalled deciding there were no cars in sight on the cross streets and she didn't wish to stop.  Then the speeding car she had missed seeing was coming through the intersection just as she pressed her own accelerator.  It was hard to believe that just three days ago her life was normal with a bright future.
    That's when the surgeon had come in and informed her about her leg.
    "You've got an infection in there that is resistant to the normal antibiotics," he said.  "I'm certain it's a form of MRSA.  We're going to have to go in and remove a section of bone, which is so badly damaged it won't ever heal properly, and then try you out on a different type of antibiotic.  I want to schedule the operation for tomorrow morning.  The sooner we get this infected section out, the better your chances."
    Natalie had asked him about the new drug, mostly out of professional interest.  She knew of the drug, and also that it was only effective in about a third of the cases, and had some truly nasty side affects.  Even so, she shook her head in assent.  She had little to lose at this point.
    After the surgeon left, the nurse came in to check on her and asked if she wanted any painkillers.
    "No," Natalie replied.  She'd been so drugged up the last couple of days she felt the pain was both deserved and better than being so muddle-headed.
    While the hospital slowly became quiet and empty as the visitors were chased out and the night shift took over, Natalie tried to find a bright spot to focus on.  Jeff was coming in the morning.  He had promised the group he worked for had some decent lawyers, and he'd see what he could arrange for her.  The group, basically the same Mob her father had been part of until he was killed, certainly had good lawyers, but Natalie doubted they would be of much help in her case.  The facts were too iron clad.
    Unable to sleep, she grew more despondent, and at one point started to cry.  As the silent tears ran down her cheeks, she wished she could undo the events of the last few days and do it all again.  If she'd just taken a taxi home that night, none of this would be happening.  She focused on herself back at the club, so confident and unreasonable toward those that warned her she couldn't drive safely, as if willing that version of herself to hear her pleas.  Silly, but in her state, she wasn't thinking very well.
     
    Natalie suddenly clapped both hands around her head as the screaming pain seemed about to split her head.  She spun around, lost her balance and crashed to the floor alongside her table, and vomited violently, the remains of the small dinner and at least a half dozen large drinks spewing across the floor and onto her dress.
    "Eew!" one of the other women at the table complained, and turned away from the foul smelling and looking mess.
    "I told you," one of the men said almost gleefully.  "She's so drunk she can't stand.  Another one who can't hold her booze."
    One of the more considerate males and his date glared at the others and bent down to help Natalie.  The woman, Sandy, took her arm and led her to the bathroom to clean up as best she could after her date helped Natalie to stand.
    "Call her a cab," someone suggested.
    "No need," the date of the woman who'd gone to the bathroom with the stricken Natalie said.  "We'll take her home."
    Once in her apartment, Natalie had stumbled to the bathroom to look into the mirror at herself.  She was a mess.  She had vomit in her hair and all over her dress, which was ripped in several places.  She had a bruise on the side of her face where she'd struck the table when she fell, and she felt as if she'd been hit by a large truck.  Especially her head.  She looked at the image and laughed with uncontrollable happiness. 
    She was intact.  She wasn't disfigured in a hospital bed with no future beyond a jail cell ahead of her.