She audibly exhaled. “All right. I need to go. Hopefully, I can get home before he gets there. I wore sweatpants to school today, Mom.Sweatpants!”
“Text me when you get home. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I quickly sent a text to Ink.
Presley:You thought it would be a good idea to send a “rich and insanely hot” young biker over to my house to protect my seventeen-year-old daughter?
Ink:Is this a trap? I feel like this is a trap.
Presley:Not a trap. And don’t repeat what I said, or I’ll be on Ariel’s shit list.
Ink:Got it. Do you want me to tell him to keep his hands off your daughter?
Presley:Yes, but if anyone ever asks, I’ll deny it.
Ink:Understood
Shoving my phone into my pocket, I headed back into the fray.
I had just gotten my newest patient settled when I got a notification for a severe thunderstorm warning on my phone, followed by a flash flood warning. As I was looking at the alerts, Ariel called.
“Have you seen the weather alerts?” she asked urgently.
“I was looking at them when you called. Why?”
“I’m guessing you haven’t been outside, because it looks pretty bad out there.”
“We have thunderstorms all the time,” I said.
“Yes, but we usually don’t have bikers in our driveway during them.”
“Oh, um,” I said and tried to think.
“Should I ask him to come inside? Or open the garage for him? I can’t leave him out in the storm, and it’s too late for him to go anywhere.”
As if on cue, one of my patients hit their call light.
“Crap. I’ve got to go. I’m okay with whatever you’re comfortable with. If he tries anything, kick him in the balls.”
“Will do. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
After I got my patient taken care of, I walked to the front doors and looked outside. The sky was dark, and it was pouring rain. A bright flash of lightning caused me to flinch and quickly step back, bumping into someone. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said and turned around.
Dr. Vaughn smiled at me. “That was my fault. I was in a hurry and wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked. Dr. Vaughn had his own practice, so he wasn’t usually at the hospital during the day.
“Yes. I’m here to see a patient. Do you happen to know what room Macy Marshall is in?”
“Yes, she’s my patient. She’s in room three. Is she one of yours?”
“She is. How’s she doing?” he asked and motioned for me to walk with him.
“She’s okay right now. She’s had something for pain that seems to have helped,” I said and lowered my voice. “She says she fell, but her injuries aren’t consistent with a fall. There’s a big man in there with her, so I didn’t push her for answers. I was planning on talking to her when she goes to radiology.”
