Justine
“Dr. Elks?”
I turned my attention away from Cole, having stood over him and checked his vitals, to the nurse in the doorway.
“Yes?”
“The patient’s wife and son would like to visit.”
OK, put on a professional face, Justine.I obviously didn’t want to prevent Cole’s family from seeing him, but such moments always went one of three ways, only one of which was good. In the best case, the family would grimly understand the reality of the situation and thank you for what you did, but this was unfortunately rare. In the other cases, they’d either get angry that you couldn’t do anything more for them or they’d despair and beg you to do more.
“Send them in.”
I cleared my throat and stood waiting by Cole. Seconds later, a young woman about Cole’s age entered with a child no older than two, maybe three years old in her arms.
“Oh my God, Cole,” she said.
She didn’t even acknowledge me, which I honestly took as a good thing. I stepped to the side and stood in the corner, ready to answer any questions she may have had. If she didn’t say anything in the first few seconds, I’d take the lack of conversation as my cue to leave.
“You always said we’d get away from it all,” she said as she sat by his side and held his hand. “I told you not to get involved with those boys. But you…”
She sniffled and wiped away a tear.
“You had to do what felt right. It wasn’t just a hobby. It was your life.”
It wasn’t just a hobby.And that, right there, was one of the many reasons why I’d told Zack no.
But still, it was telling that Cole’s wife had apparently told him no, he’d still gone and done this, and she was here not to condemn or to criticize, but to acknowledge the truth.
What I would have given to know their story. How did they meet? Did she know of the world they all operated in? Or was she a complete stranger until they moved away from wherever they had come?
“Don’t you die on me, baby,” his wife said. “I’m not raising Roger on my own. He needs a strong man to look up to.”
I took the continued monologue as my call to leave. She’d hear me leaving, anyway, and if she wanted to call me back, she’d have plenty of time.
But she did not. I stepped outside the room, head bowed, and nearly bumped into someone.
“How is he?”
That “someone” wasn’t just a random person.
It was Brock.
The very sight of this guy, with his blond hair, surfer-dude looks, and tall but lean figure…it made me sick. I could literally feel my stomach flip on itself as I looked at him. This was…this was the guy that was in charge of it all?
This fucking asshole?
“Same as before,” I said.
“Why is he not waking up sooner?”
I bit my lip. I had to be a professional in the “office.” Out in public, sure, I could have told him to fuck off and that would have been that.
“It’s impossible to predict when he will wake up and how he will be. It could happen while we’re talking, it could happen in a week, it could never happen.”
“Don’t say that,” Brock said.
God, this was frustrating. With anyone else, I could have been empathetic and polite. With Brock, for what had happened, I was ready to shove him out of the way.
