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Accepting money from the mob was also not the smartest thing to do; I recognize that now. As a woman who worked her ass off at med school and received top honors, becoming the youngest woman to lead an Emergency Department in the country at the age of thirty-five, I am held in high regard. I followed in my dad’s footsteps, and if he, or anyone else, ever found out about my small indiscretion, then I would lose the career and reputation I have worked so hard to build.
But, if I had to do it all over again, I would still take the money. For Ivy. While I love being a doctor, I love her more. She will come first every single time, and getting out of New York was something I had to do. Even though my father is still seething about the move and constantly trying to make me move back.
I fix my white coat and brush down my navy dress underneath. Quickly, I check my cell phone to make sure my sister hasn’t called with any issues with Ivy, and with a sigh of relief, I get into business mode.
The mixture of noises hits me first as I step out of my soundproofed office. Rushed voices of panicked patients, and firm assurance from our nurses and doctors. Rattling wheels of gurneys and beeps of medical equipment. Calls over the speaker, and the distant whir of a siren. This is chaos to anyone else, but to me, the sounds belonging to a hospital immediately get my head in the game. Striding down the corridor, I duck and weave past a few staff and patients and make my way to the nurses’ station to see Ian.
Ian is one of the best nurses I have had the pleasure of working with, and is not only professional, but also a lot of fun.
“Okay, what should I know?” I ask as I sidle up to him behind the counter.
“As I mentioned, white male, abdominal bruising, cut above his eye, swollen cheeks, bruised and swollen hands…” He passes me a clipboard, and I quickly look over his vitals, but find the paperwork mostly blank.
“Ian, there is nothing on here? Just his pulse?” I usually get a full write-up of a patient's condition before I see them.
“They only wanted you, so I was lucky to get that. His friend wouldn’t let me touch him. They scared poor Kate out of her skin when they arrived,'' he says, shooting his gaze to Kate, who’s smiling shyly and biting her lip with obvious nerves. She is a sweet, friendly new nurse, with a great bedside manner, but I am not sure the ED is the right place for her.
“Anything else?” I press.
“Well, the friend is an asshole, but the patient is mighty fine,” he whispers before wiggling his eyebrows at me.
“Ian!” I admonish with a laugh, whacking him in the shoulder with the clipboard. “All right, lead the way.” Might as well get this over with.
3
Carter
“Benji!” I yell this time. I am sick of him creating a scene here with every goddamn nurse and doctor that walks past. “Shut the fuck up, man. Just let the nurses treat me.”
I still haven’t been seen since the male nurse left. My anxiety is rising, and I want to climb the walls at this point. I’m tired, hungry, hurting, and all I want is to fucking go home.
“No, the boys left me in charge. I’m doing what they asked of me and waiting for Doctor Wakeford.”
I roll my eyes and drop my gaze back to the floor, willing the pain to subside. I have been sitting here on the edge of the bed, legs hanging off, my head down, waiting for this magical fucking doctor to appear. They’re apparently the only one who can fix me, when all I need is fucking ice and my bed. Fucking Benji. This is ridiculous.
I love him, I do. We have been best friends since we were eight, so he’s basically a brother. We met at the local police station because the cops had picked us up for shoplifting. Me at the supermarket, stealing food, because my mom was too busy with her new boyfriend, and we didn’t have anything in the trailer for days. And Benji for stealing a packet of smokes from the local gas station.
We formed a bond that day as we both waited at the police station for our respective parents to pick us up and have been friends ever since. Always by each other’s side. While his current power trip is pissing me off, he is doing a good job of looking after me. Benji has been chomping at the bit to manage me, and despite the fact he has no formal qualifications, he is pretty good at it, often helping me mend after each fight.
I am about to say something else to him, because I can see his impatience growing by the second, when the door opens. All I can do is keep my head down. I don’t want to look at another nurse while Benji yells at them.
“We want the fucking head of ER now!” he roars, and without looking, I know that his face is red and the thick vein in his throat is probably throbbing. I wait to hear if the nurse scurries off like the rest of them have. But whoever is in the room doesn’t run off and whimper like the last few.
My eyes lift from the tiled floor to see the sexiest fucking black stilettos, then higher to her smooth, long legs and pristine navy dress. A crisp white coat covers what I’d like to see more of, but then my gaze settles on the shiniest brown hair and most perfect skin that I have ever seen in real life. As I take in her captivating features, I find that it’s impossible to look away.
“I am Doctor Wakeford, Head of the ER, and if you raise your voice to me or my staff like that again, you will be escorted out of this hospital and will need to drive another hour to Mass General to be assisted. Do I make myself clear?” Sounds like she means business.
I sit in shock for a moment because I was expecting the Head of the ER to be a man. A middle-aged, play golf on the weekends, white hair and pretentious polos, type of douche, but Doctor Wakeford none of those things.
I rub my temples because my head is pounding, but I can hear Benji breathing heavily and starting to calm down. Ordinarily, he doesn’t like to be challenged, but I have a feeling he will let this slide.
“Good, you’re here. You need to look at Carter,” he mumbles, like the chastised man he is, raising his arm in my direction. Then she’s turning on her heel and moving toward me.
My head is still down, because it is throbbing like a motherfucker, but I watch her shoes come into view with every step she takes in my direction, not stopping until she is right in front of me, my knees nearly touching her body. I take a deep breath to get some air, which seems to have all but left me the moment she arrived, and I get a lungful of her instead. She smells like fucking springtime, flowers and freshness and sunshine, and I close my eyes and fist my hands in the scratchy white sheets underneath me. From the pain in my torso, or her scent, which one I am not sure.
“Mr. Grange,” she says quietly, as she places the clipboard down on the bed next to me. “What happened?” Her hand grabs one of mine, her fingers curling around my wrist as she checks my pulse, and it’s like I have been slammed in the chest. Her hands feel so fucking soft, so small in comparison to mine. My heart is racing, and I thank God I am not hooked up to a machine for her to hear it because it would be beeping off the charts.
I don’t say anything, leaving it to Benji to do the talking.
