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“Don’t worry, Grace. We’ll give you something for the pain and have you right as rain in no time.” My reassuring smile seems to ease her discomfort.
I turn to her husband. “Sir, if you’ll step into the waiting room, I’m going to need you to take care of some paperwork while your wife is in having the scan done.”
“She can’t go alone. I have to be with her.” His agitation is growing. “She needs me.”
“Sir, it will only be a few moments. As soon as she’s done, we’ll bring you right back here,” I assure him. But I wish I were lying. I have no legal recourse to keep them separated. My hands are tied for the moment.
“Fine.” He steps aside as two nurses come in to wheel the gurney from the room. Summer guides the agitated husband to the front desk while I follow the patient down the hall toward radiology.
The moment we pass through the doors. Grace bursts into tears. She grips her side.
“It’s okay, Grace. We’ll get you fixed up in a jiffy.”
She shakes her head, and the tears continue.
“Grace, I’m going to ask you some questions. I’d like you to answer them as honestly as possible.”
Her wide green eyes are full of tears. She hiccups, then gives me a tiny nod.
“Good girl.” I keep my voice low. “Do you feel safe at home?”
A fresh round of tears bursts forth. “I can’t...I can’t answer that.”
“Sweetheart, if you’re not safe and need an advocate, now is your chance. I’ll do everything in my power to help you.”
“I can’t talk about it.” She whimpers between sobs. “He’ll...I can’t.” She hides her face with her hands. The force of crying makes her moan with pain.
“Shh, it’ll be okay, Grace. I understand.” Regret stabs me. Too many times I’ve been in this position, and there’s not a damn thing I can do. I can’t help her if she doesn’t want my help. If I step in without her consent, she’ll catch hell when they’re alone again. It’s a twisted situation, and I’m not mentally prepared for the onslaught of past emotions rising to the surface. I shove them aside and focus on my patient.
We reach radiology. I ask to the nurse wheeling the gurney to retrieve some medication from the pharmacy. The CAT scan tech appears by my side. I give him instructions and request a female tech to come on board with this particular patient. I want her to feel safe. Having that extra layer of protection isn’t because I don’t trust the tech. It’s because she’s vulnerable, and damn it, she deserves a moment of peace.
The two technicians take her into the room.
I lean against the counter at the nurse’s station and take a breath. All I can do now is pray the CAT scan comes back clear. It could be broken ribs, a lacerated liver, hemorrhage, or a dozen other issues. I can’t be sure of anything until I get a look at what’s going on inside her. But I sure as hell know what’s going on outside.
That fucker raised his hand to her. He put those bruises there. I can tell by the way she looked to him for answers to every question. She waited for his approval before agreeing to anything.
This is a classic case of domestic abuse.
And there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it. The pencil in my hand snaps in two.
I wait until the CAT scan is done and escort Grace back to the ER. There are a half dozen patients waiting for me, but I can’t leave her. Not until I’m sure it’s not life-threatening.
When we reach the exam room, he’s waiting for us. Grace blanches at the sight of him and drops her gaze to her hands. I instruct the nurse to give her the pain meds. I ask a series of questions about her medical and family history. By the time I finish, the tech arrives with the CAT scan report. I review the results with a critical eye.
Nothing. Relief fills me. Her liver is enflamed, but there’s nothing concerning on the scan. I explain this to her, and with a sigh, she relaxes against the pillow.
I give her instructions to follow and a scrip for medication to bring down the inflammation. “Now remember, if the pain persists or increases, I want you to come right back here. Okay?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
My gaze drifts to her husband, whose eagle eyes are narrowed on me. I meet his glare with one of my own, one that clearly states I know exactly what he did to his wife and I will not tolerate it happening again. Telepathy doesn’t work, but I think he gets the point.
The asshole shifts his weight uncomfortably. “Can we go?”
“Yes.” I glance at Grace. “Take care of yourself.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Her tentative smile pierces my conscience. Before I make a fool of myself, I exit the exam room.
