“He’s not Italian.” I shrug, which earns me a few smirks and low chuckles from the surrounding men.
The man raises his brow and glances one more time at Brody. “We’ll take the other one then.”
I glance over at Sonja. “Sonja, take Hakeem and please go call Dr. Rossi and explain he’s needed immediately.” She grabs Hakeem’s arm, and they both take off toward the nurses’ station, but not without silently thanking me as they go.
“Do I have permission yet to examine your boss?” I ask.
He still hesitates. His soulless eyes glance around the room at his other men, assessing. I think I have him, that I’ve proven myself, and he’s ready to give me his blessing when the man in the chair, Mr. Bianchi, starts convulsing.
“He’s seizing!” I yell and rush toward him. One of his men gets in my way, and once again, muscle memory kicks in. I easily manage to deflect his hands and knock him to the side using the same self-defense techniques I’ve improved upon over the years.
“Stop! Let her help the boss,” the man we had been talking to instructs, and everyone freezes.
I drop to my knees, helping lower the patient to the floor and tipping him onto his side. My hand cradles his head while Brody kneels next to me, checking his vitals and pupils.
“We need to get him into surgery now.” Brody’s hazel eyes meet mine, and I nod my head in agreement. Between this man’s head injury and this seizure, it means he could die.
“We need a crash cart and a roller now!” I yell to the two other nurses who are hovering nearby. Both set off with their tasks, both of them capable and trained.
Our patient stops seizing, and at the same time, his breathing stops. “Fuck.” Brody leans in to listen before opening the man’s mouth and checking his airway. “Start compressions.”
The man I had previously talked with steps forward. “You said the other doctor would be here.”
I glance up at him, letting him see the severity of the situation. “If we don’t do this now, he will die.”
The man’s eyes flick from me to his boss and back. His skin pales a shade lighter. “Save him.”
I start CPR compressions, and soon, with Brody’s help as well as my co-workers’, Mr. Bianchi is loaded onto a gurney. I climb on with him, knees straddling his body, so he isn’t bearing my extra weight. Brody and a team rush us to the OR for surgery. The whole time I give compressions, my arms are strong and my thrusts steady. Adrenaline pumps through my veins. I will not lose this man tonight, criminal or not.
In the OR, he’s hooked up to machines while an MRI is done quickly. Brody scrubs in for surgery, and through all the commotion, I work to keep this man alive on the table. Once the doctor is ready, only then am I able to leave. On shaking legs, I manage to scrub my hands clean of blood before making my way out of the OR and back to the on-call room. More blood covers my pants and scrub top, and I quickly change into a new set before fixing my ponytail. At the charge nurses’ station, I request updates on the patient before going to notify his men. After almost three hours, I’m able to tell them that Dr. Grahamstopped the brain bleed, but the patient will need to remain in the ICU overnight for observation.
The scene in the waiting room is vastly different from the one I walked into earlier. The boss’s men are still here, but instead of looking worried and panicked, they look solemn. As if already mourning the man they pledged their loyalty and lives to. I walk right up to their leader, most likely the second in command. His head rises when he sees me, and his brow arches in a silent question.
“Dr. Graham was able to stop the bleeding. There were a few minor complications, however, and some swelling. For his safety, we’re keeping him in a medically induced coma. He’ll be moving to the ICU shortly.”
The man’s face moves from relieved to determined within seconds. “When will we be able to take him home?”
I pause, weighing my words. “This type of surgery generally requires two to six days in the hospital.”
The man shakes his head. “When can we move him home?”
Sighing, I tuck my hands into my scrubs. I’m used to men like this. I also know that the longer they stay here, it can appear as a weakness or that their boss, impaired. Something they won’t want their enemies to find out about and exploit. “Twenty-four hours. When he’s awake and can verbally make the request for himself. However, I will be talking to Mr. Bianchi about the severity of his wound and surgery. I should let you know I plan to get him to stay the full two to six days, depending on how he heals.”
The man scoffs, and his lips tip up almost as if he wants to smile. “We’ll be leaving when he wakes.”
I nod in response, refusing to argue about it with him. I know deep down things will most likely go his way, but I still plan to make sure my patient, Mr. Bianchi, knows his full list of options and which ones are better to serve him and his health long-term.
The rest of the early morning goes smoothly, and only one more emergency surgery occurs, which keeps Dr. Rossi busy once he arrives after being called in. Glancing at my watch, I realize I’m due for one more power nap, with another four hours left to go in my shift. I hope the rest can be less eventful.
Chapter 16
Winnie
The first thing I notice the next afternoon when I get to work is the additional men in black suits that are stationed in specific corners of the hospital on guard duty. A shiver starts down my spine, and I try to suppress it. I spent all night reminding myself that I’m in a new city, a different state, and that there is nothing that could tie me to the MC I used to call home. To these men, I’m just the nurse who helped their boss. My life should mean nothing to them.
Going about my morning, I change into my scrubs in the locker room and grab the clipboard from the holder outside of my supervisor’s door that has my day’s tasks on it. Reading over the pages, I notice my name is on the line of a patient named John Doe. Those chills come back because I know who she’s referring to by keeping his name anonymous. After assigning my nurses to surgeries and patient rooms, I make sure things are running smoothly from the night shift and check in with my staff before making my own rounds. Deciding to face my fear head-on, I start with the room belonging to the mysterious mafia boss.
There are two guards at the entrance of his wing, and two more stationed outside his door. My hand goes to turn the handle, and I’m stopped.
