Devon looked at me, nonplussed.
“Okay...” she said. “Are they asking us to do anything illegal?”
Technically, not that I was aware of. There was always the risk of a lawsuit if the service we provided off-site failed, but that had never stopped me from helping someone if they had sprained their ankle on the sidewalk or something like that. And in some sense, I felt compelled to help the sick and the hurt whenever I saw such help needed.
But if one knew that the help was needed because some man-child had done something stupid?
“The point is, Devon, they’re asking us to be their bitches and provide whatever they want,” I said. “You know there’s going to be a whole host of issues. They’re not asking us to just massage their injuries. They’re going to want full-scale treatment, maybe even surgery. You want to be the person that borrows things from the hospital and then has to face up to them?”
“Okay, put in that light, that’s fair,” she said.
“They’re going to make this pitch to the other girls and probably even some of the doctors,” I said. “We have to make sure everyone’s aware of what’s going on. I don’t want anyone to be in a spot where they have to make a decision that could compromise our integrity. You catch what I’m saying?”
Devon nodded, even though I knew her passion and enthusiasm for what I was saying wasn’t quite as strong as what I had. That was fine. I knew that at times I could be a little too strong for my own good, even in comparison to some of the other strong-willed people. What mattered was her awareness.
“Good,” I said. “Let me know if any of them come to you.”
“I will,” she said. “I will.”
She brushed past me right after. I wasn’t sure if I believed her. But I did believe that she would at least think a little bit harder before just bending over and letting them do whatever they wanted to her.
* * *
I tried my hardest not to think about what LeCharles had done for the rest of my shift.
Unfortunately, perhaps because my stubborn pride meant that I found myself more aggravated by shameless acts like that, I found myself muttering under my breath and cursing him out with more frequency than I normally would have. I knew I should have let it go—he was just someone who thought he could get away with something, and if he pushed his luck any further, I’d make sure he could never press any luck ever again.
But that wasn’t how I worked. It was both my greatest strength and my greatest curse that I was willing to take on any fight that I saw as unfair.
It, fortunately, had no impact upon my job as a nurse in the hospital, as I was able to give guidance and provide checkups on our patients as needed. None of my patients were any the wiser, and though I filled in all of the other nurses on what had happened, I only needed to mention it once to get the point across. Time would tell if they listened to me or just tried to brush me off like Devon seemed to.
My shift ended at about ten p.m., and when it did, I just headed straight for the car. The encounter with LeCharles and its fallout had exhausted me, and all I wanted to do was head home and have a nice glass of wine before calling it a night. I began the trek out of the hospital to the parking lot.
And then, wouldn’t you know it, the same fucking damn thing happened again.
This time, a thinner white guy, clean-shaven and with nice blue eyes, pulled his helmet off as he saw me exit. He flashed me a smile that I just wanted to slap the shit out of.
“Hi, are you Kaitlyn?”
“Yes,” I said, immediately taking a defensive posture. “Let me guess. You’re another Black Reaper, come to talk to me about how I should work for you guys under the table so that when you commit more violence, you have someone who can come and rescue your sorry asses.”
The man dropped his smile, but he didn’t seem to adopt an angry or annoyed response as LeCharles had. He was much more relaxed sitting on his bike in comparison. Still, he was on a bike, and he had a sleeveless jacket that said “Black Reapers” on it. That alone made me disregard anything about his mood, other than to note he probably wasn’t going to be as annoying as LeCharles was.
“I am another Black Reaper, yes,” he said. “And yes, I have come to talk to you about that. But I’m not going to pitch to you that. I just want you to understand my position.”
Wait, what?
“I’m Michael, by the way,” he said, extending his hand.
“Michael? Is that your real name?” I said, ignoring his hand but still very much confused about this… gentle approach. “Or is that your code name? Like Axle or something else ridiculous?”
“I’m not talking to you as a member of the Reapers right now, I’m talking to you as a human.”
Okay… let’s see what he has to say.
“Fair enough,” I said, taking his hand in mine and giving a firm grip.
“I know that Axle came to you and spoke to you, and his tact was lacking.”
