Excerpt of Devil Du Jour by Deena Remiel

A nurse walked in with a basin, a rag, and a smile. She stood beside her after the doctors left and began cleaning away the dried blood and washed out the wounds. Camille closed her eyes during the procedure, imagining Nurse Chloe as her mom instead.

"All cleaned up and dressed. I'll send your friend in now, but when the plastic surgeon comes down, he'll have to wait outside."

"Thanks." She managed to offer a weak smile.

A moment alone seemed too much for her. Her heart rate exploded and she shook with irrational fear. She never wanted to be alone again. Derek appeared by the curtain with a scowl that quickly dissolved into a relieved grin. He rushed to her side and scooped her up in his arms, replacing the gurney with himself as her bed.

"Hey, sweetheart, how are you doing? My God, you're shaking like a leaf. It's okay. I'm here." He feathered light kisses on her temple and smoothed away her damp, matted hair.

"I'm all wet still," she admonished. "You're gonna get soaked."

"I don't care. You're alive. That's all that matters."

"Thanks to you." She paused and continued in a hushed voice. "You tore me away from ‘You Know Who's' grasp. I was nearly gone. He had me. I'll never forget what you've done for me. Ahh!" She grasped at her ears and her body went rigid.

"What? What is it?" He jumped up with her in his arms and put her back on the gurney.

"I can't bear that screeching sound and my cuts are burning me again! Oh God!" She writhed on the stretcher while he looked on, wide–eyed, not knowing what to do for her.

"Oh, dear Lord," she sighed and closed her eyes. "It's stopped."

"What the hell was that all about?"

"I don't know," she croaked. "It happened while I was in the ambulance, too." Before they could discuss things any further, a doctor wearing scrubs, a surgical cap, and mask pushed the curtain aside and gave him the signal to leave. She closed the curtain behind her.

"Hello, Ms. Dutton. My name is Dr. Landry and I'll be attending to your wounds."

Something about her voice sent prickles of apprehension across her skin. "Okay."

The doctor offered her a hospital gown. "Here. It'll be easier for me if you put this gown on instead of what you have on now. Those gowns are not exam–friendly. Especially for what I have to do. Keep the opening in the front and let me know when you're ready." She stepped out, leaving her to analyze why nerves were twitching in her arms and legs.

She took off the other hospital wear, dropped it to the floor, and put the gown on as requested. "I'm ready."

Dr. Landry stepped back in the curtained area and began her assessment. She opened the gown to reveal Camille's stomach and whispered. "Ah, my handiwork is holding up well, I see. You're my finest work yet."