“Never mind,” I told her abruptly. “Fuck your policies.”
She gave me a plastic grin, and I wanted to slap it off her face.
“If you want to compensate her, you can certainly give us the money, and we’ll make sure she gets it.”
No fucking way was I going to give a million dollars to the catering company to hand over to someone whose first name I didn’t even know. I had fully planned on giving Red a million dollars. She was worth it and more. I wanted to surprise her when she went to her bank and found out that she had received an enormous deposit. I would never see her face, but just knowing she would be set for life—or for a little while if she didn’t blow it all—made me feel good.
She literally ran away from me. I have no idea how she feels, or if she is okay. She just disappeared. I used my CSS connections, and all they could do was give me a list of names for women who worked for Satin. They hacked the Satin computer database and found fifteen women working that night. Twelve of them red-hearted, but the women were only listed by their initials and paid in cash. Unbelievable.
I have to just accept that it is over. I was that big of an asshole, and I probably ruined her life. I had a good night, and I sent her running out of the room. I try fucking as many women as I possibly can to erase her from my memory. It is all random, consensual, horrible sex. The women aren't even that bad; it is just that they aren'tasgood. She wasn't the best at having sex, but she was lovely, and funny, and could go toe-to-toe with me. I want that in my life. I wantherin my life, at least for another night.
“Doctor Myers,” a frantic ER nurse comes rushing at me. “We have a severe trauma coming in STAT. The patient is in her twenties, female, with no identification or personal effects. She’s been struck by a motor vehicle and is in active labor with hypotension noted. Vitals are unstable; she’s arriving in Bay Five in ten.”
Fuck, it’s a bad one.
“Okay, nurse, thank you. I’ll scrub in and meet you at Labor and Delivery. Is any paralysis noted?”
“No, Doctor. The EMT said that the baby was about to crown and the mother was unconscious.”
I’ve worked with this nurse before, several times. She is a woman in her late forties and keeps a picture near her computer of her three children in front of a Christmas tree. This one may hit home for her.
“We’ll get her fixed up.” I offer the nurse, whose name badge says Christina, a smile.
“Yes, Doctor.” She goes on ahead, and I scrub up to deliver a baby to a woman who may or may not survive.
My shift tonight has already been tragic. Prior to the pregnant woman coming in, we had another accident victim whom I spent an hour trying to save, only to lose him in surgery. We also had an elderly stroke victim whom we lost. It hasn’t been a good night, and I am feeling despondent.
I get an update on the pregnant woman. They delivered the baby in the ambulance. So, I am not about to deliver a baby but have one very injured, formerly pregnant woman to try and save. They get her into an examination room, and I am finally able to get a look at her while the baby is taken to the NICU.
The woman is in really bad shape. She has a huge injury on her forehead which bleeds profusely down her face. Head injuries tend to bleed a lot, so I am not as concerned with the surface blood, but it was a vehicle accident; depending on the force of impact, she could have internal hemorrhaging on her brain.
“Updates?” I ask as I pull the thin blanket down and immediately see her legs.
While one is very obviously contused and broken, the other is perfect.Fucking perfect.I look at her face again, at her lips. No… no… no. Those lips. I would never forget them.
“What are the updates?” I am nearly frantic as the EMTs and nurses tangle with each other, trying to get her hooked up to an IV and take her vitals.
“We suspect a fractured right tibia, fractured ribs, possibly a collapsed lung. Head wound, hemorrhaging. We’re setting up labs for her now, Doctor.” The intern attending with me tonight is being thorough, which is good.
“Get her on oxygen and order a blood transfusion. Any stats on the baby?” I look at the intern, feeling numb and nearly psychotic with the thought that this might be my Red Mask and her child and, God forbid—mine.
“The baby is a female and was almost to term. She is five pounds, four ounces, and healthy. She needs a little oxygen assistance, but otherwise, the baby is doing better than her mother.” He seems pretty happy about the infant’s condition, but I am still completely overwhelmed.
“And we don’t have any identification? Nothing?” Who leaves the house without identification? Especially pregnant and near term.
“She was hit in front of a bodega across from an apartment building, I heard, but I have to look at the police report to give you a definitive answer. The driver says she was crossing the street at the crosswalk and he skidded on ice at the light. Ran right into her.”
“Okay. I need a swab from her and the baby immediately so we can get a DNA ID.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
I look down at the patient's face again as a nurse cleans the blood off her head. She is deeply unconscious, and I am not sure if she is in a coma. Tests will have to be done to know conclusively if she has internal bleeding, brain injury, or is comatose. With a small cut at her hairline, I am able to detect where the blood is coming from. I stare at her face. Despite her injuries, she is magnificently beautiful. Like an angel, pale, white, and broken, she lies in front of me fighting for her life. She has the deepest, blackest, raven-hued hair… it is my Red. It has to be.
I send her and the baby's swab to a forensic examiner working with CSS. I don’t visit the baby; she is stable, and there is no need to see her. More importantly, I don’t want to face the fact that Red has achild and it could be mine.
I tend to other patients until the results come in a phone call two hours later while I am doing paperwork in my office.
“The woman is Scarlett Cross. She’s twenty-four years old and has no next of kin outside of a few distant relatives in California. We were able to discover that she’s a student at New York University and studies dance. She’s also a dancer in the corps de ballet for the New York City Ballet.”
