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In fact, I didn’t see any rival patches at all as I went from room to room with Dr. Franklin stitching gashes and the occasional stab wound. From the good mood of the bikers, I knew the Black Eagles had won.
I worked tirelessly, mending and discharging the dozens of bikers so our regular patients would stop commenting on the smell of weed and booze from the dirty men sharing their rooms.
When would people learn that the ones to complain never got the better treatment? It just made us like their counterparts even more.
“Hey, Delilah,” Winnie called from her desk with the phone tucked under her shoulder. “Can you take bed seventeen for me? I’m on hold with stupid cardio. Again.” She groaned.
“Yeah,” I took the paper chart from her and tossed down the four I discharged in the last hour that still needed filing. “What’s the chief complaint?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at bed seventeen’s private exam room behind me. The curtain was drawn across the glass wall so I couldn’t see who the patient was.
“Uh,” She scratched her head, “I don’t know, laceration or broken rib or something. Biker from the fight.” She said and then rose in her seat excitedly, “The hot one.” She winked. “Opie’s twin.”
“Gee thanks.” I droned. “I hope he lives up to your Redwood fantasies.” I called out and then walked across the hall and pulled the curtain back as I looked down at the chart in my hands. “Hi, I’m Delilah, I’m taking over for Winnie as your nurse Mr.…” My eyes finally landed on his name, and I gasped before looking up at my patient for the first time. “St. Claire.” I whispered.
Fox St. Claire laid back on the gurney, dwarfing it and making it look tiny under his giant body. His green eyes were locked on me with such an intensity behind them that I felt like I was going to burst into flames. He’d aged in the last five years; he was almost thirty now and the time had been unfairly kind to the man.
He looked delectable.
His dark hair was long and wild in normal Fox fashion and to add to it, a dark beard covered his jaw, hiding the scar I knew ran from his ear lobe to his chin.
He wore jeans and boots with a black and white plaid flannel under his motorcycle vest and it was unfair how damn good he looked.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered, when I finally got my tongue unstuck from the roof of my mouth. “How-?”
“Hey D.” He said with his deep caramel voice that I used to fall asleep listening to so long ago. “You’re a hard woman to track down.”
“Get out.” I cried, falling back a step in complete shock from his presence. “Now.” I stumbled over the trash can in the corner, sending it flying across the floor with a loud crash.
“I need stitches.” He said, sitting up and it was then that I noticed the gash on the other side of his head taped shut.
“Go to the vet then.” I snarled as pain and anger burned in my gut. “We don’t tend to animals here.” I snapped, ripping the curtain open and pointing to the door again, “Get out, Fox!”
“What’s going on in here?” Dr. Franklin asked as he walked into the room to investigate my outburst. “D, are you okay?” He put his hand on my shoulder and I watched as Fox’s eyes zeroed in on the touch, before I shrugged the overly affectionate man off me. Now was not the time for Oliver’s familiarity.
“I want him out.” I snarled, never taking my eyes off Fox as he swung his long legs over the edge of the bed to put his boots on the floor. “Get him out of here!”
“What happened?” Oliver tried again. “Sir, please sit back down.” He said, holding his hand up as Fox stood up off the bed.
God the man was big.
Over six and a half feet tall and he had put on about a hundred pounds of muscle since the last time I’d seen him.
“I want him out, I refuse to care for this son of a bitch.” I hissed, shaking off Oliver’s touch as he once again put his hand on my arm. “Stop touching me damnit!” I all but screamed.
“Touch her again, and I’ll put you on your ass, Doc.” Fox growled, and I hated the shiver that ran up my spine from his threat.
“Now wait, just a second.” Oliver tried again, looking between the two of us. “What’s going on?”
“Find someone else to stitch this animal up,” I groaned, holding my hands up, “I’ll stab him in the eye if I get close to him.”
“You know you’ve never followed through with your threats, D.” Fox threw from across the room, and I glared at him.
“Fucking try me, Fox.” I turned and burned right back out of the room. Winnie stood up at her desk as I charged towards her, with the phone receiver still stuck under her ear. “If I go back in that room, I’ll go to jail.” I threw his chart back down at her. “Take care of him yourself.” I stormed back down the hall towards the break room and yelled over my shoulder. “And he’s not like Opie. He’s that snake Jimmy from Ireland!”
Two hours passed with me throwing my hissy fit before Oliver cornered me in the linen closet. He shut the door behind him and stood against it with his arms crossed over his chest. I glared at him from the corner of my eye and then sighed. “I’m sorry.” I droned on, “For yelling at you.”
“Apology accepted.” He said evenly, “But you need to tell me what that man did to you to get you so worked up.”
I shut the cabinet with my elbow as I carried the stack of gowns in my arms. “I don’t really.” I shrugged. "It’s personal.”
