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“I’m not a teacher. I’m a soldier. Always have been.”
“Well, if you’re half as good a soldier as you are a doctor, the hospital could still use more of you. Not less.”
“Like I said. I’m not a teacher.”
“Yes, you are. You taught Phil not to be such an ass. He actually apologized to Mrs. Singleton the day after you called him out.” Dr. Mason chuckled. “He also tightened conduct for his interns and residents. So, you see? We need you.”
“I appreciate that, John. But my rare spots of joy are overshadowed by frustration. I have some things to finish, then I’m not renewing my contract.”
“Well, as long as I’m here, you’ll have an ally if you want to come back.” He took my arm and guided me toward a room to give me report on the last patient I’d receive from him before he went off shift.
“This is a sad case.” John took off his glasses and pulled a handkerchief then began polishing the lenses. He shook his head slightly as if that would negate what he was about to tell me. I could tell from the tight expression on his face whatever he was about to tell me would be bad. Also, that itching sensation between my shoulders got worse and I almost reached back to scratch it. “This young woman was found in an alley five nights ago, beaten and raped. She’s been in and out of consciousness for a couple of days now. This morning’s been the first she’s been awake more than a few minutes at a time, so everything up to this point has been under Jane Doe. I think they’re working to get that fixed but you know how it goes. It’ll take a few hours to get it all straightened out. We can sit down in the dictation room and I’ll go over it all with you before I leave.”
I glanced at the chart on my tablet. “Mother fuck…” This couldn’t be right. I stepped into the room, tossing the tablet on the counter by the sink and crossed to the bed where a small woman lay battered and bruised. Her arms were covered in finger marks and there were several scrapes and small cuts. Her face had been beaten so badly it was hard to recognize her, but when she opened her eyes and looked up at me…
“Atticus?”
“Yeah, honey. It’s me.” I sat on the bed next to her, taking her hand in mine and bringing it to my lips. “I’m here.”
“You know her, Dr. Benedict?”
Fuck. How could I have completely forgotten Dr. Mason was there?
“Yeah. Cecilia Reyes.”
“Do you want to pass her case to someone else?”
“Absolutely not.” My response was immediate and probably too vehement given how CeCe flinched, but there was no way in hell I was letting anyone else take care of CeCe as long as I had privileges at this fucking hospital. “She’s under my care and will be until she’s ready to go home. You make sure everyone knows that.”
“You won’t be here twenty-four/seven, Atticus.”
“For her, I will.”
He raised his hands. “I’m on the next six nights, Atticus. If you need me, I’ll be happy to look after your girl while you’re off shift.”
CeCe whimpered, her gaze clinging to mine even as she tightened her hand around mine weakly.
“I’ve got her. I’ll take care of her.”
“I understand.” He gripped my shoulder. “Keep her safe, Bullet.”
That got my attention, and I turned my head sharply to give him a hard look. “How do you know that name?”
He tapped his finger to his temple. “Ask Crush and Byte.”
“Oh, I will.” I gave him a death stare. I liked John, but I wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if he was a threat to the club.
“Got my own secrets, Bullet. I just want you to know, I’ll do my best to keep the heat off you if necessary.” There was a wealth of meaning in that declaration. “If you need anything, call me.”
What the fuck? I made myself a mental note to discuss this with Crush and Byte at the first opportunity…
I stilled. Yeah. I needed to get Grim Road involved with this sooner rather than later. Why? Because what Rocket knew, Lemon knew. If she thought I was trying to keep secrets, especially ones involving someone vulnerable, she’d have my balls and I wouldn’t blame her.
CeCe had closed her eyes again. I glanced at the monitor to confirm her vitals were stable and her heart was in the right rhythm, then pulled out my phone and called Lemon.
“Wassup, Doc?”
I winced. Yeah. I really shouldn’t get mad at Intern Iggy when my vice president was just as bad.
