Dark Legacy by Jen Talty (best non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

“I have to meet with a patient at the hospital in a few minutes. It might run through dinner, but want to meet at the fire pit in a couple of hours?”

Say, yes. Please, just say yes.

“Sounds like a plan. See you then.”

“Looking forward to it.” She ended the call.

Shannon crossed the road with a new spring in her step.

She’d deal with her patient, then go home, pour a glass of wine, and enjoy an evening with Jackson. She’d tortured herself enough over the years. At thirty-six, she had the world in the palm of her hand. She’d beaten the odds. And now, maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to really let go and let a man in.

Even if for only a short time.

Shannon entered the hospital through the main emergency doors. Though she had many patients come through the ER, she wasn’t a regular, but everyone knew who she was. She took a slight detour down the side corridor to snag a cup of coffee and two candy bars—plain chocolate for her, and a Snickers for Gretchen.

She took the long way to the psych ward, giving her a few moments to collect her thoughts. She smiled as the evening security guard noticed her coming down the hall.

“Good evening,” Kent said.

Kent couldn’t have been more than twenty-two, but he’d been working this post for the last three years. He always greeted her with a smile, and tonight was no different. “Haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“That’s a good thing,” she said, patting him on the shoulder then handing him the cup of coffee.

“You’re the best. No one else brings shitty-ass hospital coffee.” He buzzed her through the doors.

The moment they swung open, her muscles tightened with anxiety, and depression swallowed her heart. She forced a smile as she signed the appropriate paperwork and then asked for the nurse on duty to page the doctor on call.

Dr. Franklin was her least favorite psychiatrist in the hospital because he viewed psychologists as beneath him. He never came out and said that anyone who hadn’t gone to medical school wasn’t capable of treating the mentally ill, but he was always condescending in his tone.

And he had a constant need to be right.

What sucked was that nine out of ten times, he was.

“Shannon,” Dr. Franklin said as he strolled leisurely up to the nurses’ station, refusing the professional courtesy of using her doctor title. “We’re still waiting on the toxicology report, but according to the patient, she ingested a half a bottle of antidepressants after freebasing cocaine, drinking at least a pint of vodka, and she thinks she might have taken some ecstasy, as well,” he said without a trace of emotion. “After her body detoxes, I’ve prescribed a combination of medications to deal with the bi-polar issues. It is imperative that she stay on the medications.”

Shannon opened her mouth to say, “Thank you,” but before she could get the words out, Franklin hushed her with his hand.

“I know you prefer non-medication treatment,” he said. “But in this case, it is necessary. Please, trust me on this. She has a better chance of staying away from the other chemicals if her mood is more efficiently balanced, and I also recommended she seek out a different type of therapy after she is released.”

“That will be up to my patient.” Shannon dug her nails into the side of her thigh. The fact that her patient had landed herself in the psych ward didn’t give Shannon any reason to pat herself on the back for being an excellent therapist. If anything, it proved the exact opposite. But she didn’t need this asshole jumping down her throat because he had a problem with PhDs over medical school degrees.

Or maybe it was women over men.

“As far as the medication goes, I have worked closely with her primary care physician for the right meds. If she takes them like she’s supposed to, her mood stabilizes.” Shannon knew she shouldn’t pick a fight with this guy, but it was too late to take it back. “It took a while for us to find the right combination with the right dosage. I will make sure her primary gets you the exact combination and dosage tonight.”

“I’ve already requested them. However, it’s obvious that this course of treatment isn’t working. This is her third time in the unit.”

“Not for an attempted suicide.” She raised her hand to keep the pain-in-the-ass doctor from speaking. “And just so we are straight, you are the one who made that judgment call when she arrived. So, this is visit number one under those circumstances.”

“That’s not the point,” Dr. Franklin said. “I will be recommending a different course of treatment.”

“Recommend all you want,” she said under her breath. “But I’m her therapist, and even though you are the doctor on call, she’s still my patient. So, back off and let me do my job.”

Dr. Franklin blinked but otherwise remained still. “We’ll hold her for forty-eight hours, and then we can discuss what will be the most appropriate medication and psychotherapy.” With a wave of his hand, Dr. Franklin dismissed Shannon. “Miss Carson is in room four.” He nodded over his shoulder before stepping around Shannon.

“I can’t believe you stood up to him,” the nurse said. She must have been new because Shannon had never seen her before. “No way could I ever talk to a doctor like that,” the nurse continued.

“Doctors aren’t God.” Shannon took a mental note of the young girl’s name spelled out on a tag across her colorful scrubs. “Erica, are you Gretchen’s nurse?”

She nodded. “I’ll be here until midnight.”

“Great.” She pulled out her card. “Call me if Dr. Franklin continues acting like an ass when it comes to my patient, okay?”

“I can’t go against him. Or any doctor.”

“All I’m asking is to be informed if Franklin goes against my recommendations. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. I can manage that,” Erica said.

“Thanks.” All Shannon wanted to do at this point was assess her