“I can’t leave her! She needs me!” His voice echoes with a haunting pain, but I focus on Dorothy. We roll her and double-check there’s no exit wound, and then check her pulse.
“Weak pulse,” I say to Edward, and he gives me a dire look. We take a scan of her heart to confirm it is what we think. We can see internal bleeding. It’s catastrophic.
The husband is still screaming.
“Get him out of here!” I yell at the nurse, trying to concentrate. Another nurse comes over and helps move him out of the room.
Dorothy loses consciousness and becomes unresponsive. “Dorothy, stay with us,” I say, but she flatlines. The long, eerie tone of the heart-rate monitor fills the room.
I start CPR. I’m puffing and calling out each chest compression as I go. I step away and look at the monitor, but it flatlines again.
“I’ll do it,” Edward says, leaning over Dorothy to perform the chest compressions. I’m catching my breath, watching him.
“Come on, Dorothy,” I mumble.
After two more rounds of CPR, I call the time of death. I take off my gloves, and Edward and I walk out.
With each step, the dread of having to talk to Dorothy’s husband builds. “I can talk to her husband, if you’d like,” Edward suggests.
This was my patient. Unfortunately, it comes with the job; with the highs of saving patients, there are also the lows of them passing away. “It’s okay.” I give him a sad smile. “Thanks for offering.” I make my way to the ER waiting room, and the husband spots me immediately and rushes over.
“What happened? Is she okay? When can I see her?” His eyes are red from crying, his voice is hoarse, and my chest aches for him.
“Let’s go to a room and talk somewhere more private.”
He shakes his head abruptly. “No! Tell me now!” he shouts, and I feel the eyes of the onlookers.
“I’m so sorry.” I gulp. “The bullet pierced Dorothy’s heart, causing extensive internal bleeding. She succumbed to her injuries. We did everything we could, but she died.”
He drops to his knees, hyperventilating.
“Nurse!” I call out for assistance. I kneel by him, but he pushes me and I land on my butt.
“You killed her!” he screams, pointing at me with fury in his eyes. “It was you! You killed her!”
Two nurses rush to his side, so I stand, not wanting to upset him further by staying. His wife’s injuries were too extensive—there was nothing more we could do.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I tell him before I take a deep breath and walk away.
Everyone’s eyes are on me, so I take a quick break and go outside, to the front of the building. As I dash out the front doors, the breeze greets my face and I can breathe again. Even though I’m somewhat desensitized to the grief of others, there are cases that still affect me. It comes with the job. You’d have to be a psychopath not to ever care.
* * *
Twitch
I’m weirded out.I got home yesterday and Mercedez wasn’t there. She’salwaysthere. I can’t remember a time she left the clubhouse. I didn’t ask anyone because I didn’t want them to think I cared, and I don’t, but I thought it was odd. Later that afternoon she returned, and even though we have no sort of relationship, I felt off-kilter. I need to get my shit together and sort everything out with her. I don’t want to lead her on, but I also don’t want to be a dickhead. And now, with her finding Milly’s earring, she’s only more suspicious, and I don’t want her to cause problems or go to Reaper.
I’m going to have to have another firm conversation with her. I need to make it clear we will never be together. My head falls back in dread of epic proportions. I’m hoping she’ll take it well, because even if she tells someone, who’s going to believe her over me and Milly? Still, it’s what needs to be done. I don’t want Milly to think I’m playing with her and our time together meant nothing—because that’s far from the truth.
Mercedez sat by me at dinner, but I ended up having an early night. She seemed off. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but she wasn’t as clingy as usual. Which I should be happy about, but I’m still on edge.
“Twitch, it’s your turn, man,” says Cash at the dartboard.
I blink a few times, snapping out of my daydream, and take a shot. I miss, and the dart bounces onto the floor.
Cash laughs. “It’s not your day today.”
A puff of air escapes my lips. “No, it’s not.”
