Tank – Three Days Later
Trying to ignore the constant eyes on me that are making me fucking uncomfortable, I gently wrap my patient's arm, ensuring not to jolt it or tear her stitches. Which is fucking hard considering she keeps opening her legs, trying to twist her body so I can see her fucking underwear, hoping to entice me.
I swear, patients like these really testmypatience, I mean, come on, have some fucking class, I’ve just put twenty stitches in your fucking arm.
Though to be fair, apparently she got the gash in a knife fight with her boyfriend's wife, so something tells me this woman doesn’t have class. No, I didn’t ask her for her whole story, only how it happened for her records and to see if the cops needed to be called, which they have been because said wife has a knife sticking into her gut.
I grit my teeth as Ms. Halls tries to rub against my leg yet again, opening hers even wider, showing she has no fucking dignity.
The woman actually dared to bitch out the wife, like you know, the wife was the problem, not her who was sleeping with said wife’s husband…
Fucking hell, Trigger had an affair, and even though he didn’t fuck the bitch every day for a year like we all believed, (the man was an idiot, he knew it, especially after he tried killing himself after he realized how much he messed up, and the fucker is lucky Ashley forgave him, or she’s trying to anyway, for their kids), he never would have allowed his mistress to blame his wife, even though he did for a while. So this woman sitting here, trying to act like she and the husband are innocent, is pathetic and grates at my patience on her nerve.
“He wasn’t even happy anymore,” she tries to explain as she opens her legs even wider again when I gently move her leg back, but I don’t reply.
The cops should be outside waiting to come in and arrest the stupid bitch.
The wife didn’t even start the fight, Ms. Halls did, not liking that she was being demanded to leave the home the wife shared with her husband and kids.
Fuck, she was kicking the husband out as well, but Ms. Halls here lost it. Clearly, she just wanted the man's money, and he was an idiot to fall for it.
I tape up a bit of the bandage, fucking fed up with her shit, and even though it’s not bandaged properly, I'm just about to call the cops in when my phone buzzes, and I frown.
Everyone knows I’m on shift today so why would…
Fuck.
I quickly grab it, knowing it is most likely an emergency, and my heart sinks when I recognize the number.
“Excuse me,” I say to the homewrecker as I push myself back from her on my stool, and she smirks as I answer, “Dr. Levine,” not needing this woman to know I’m a brother.
She has patch chaser written all fucking over her along with marriage wrecker.
“Tank, it’s Chanel from Wincher Resort, I um, uh, well, I–” Chanel cuts herself off and sniffles, and fuck me, everything inside me dies.
I confirm, “Bunny’s passed, hasn’t she?”
“Yes,” Chanel chokes, and I drop my head as my heart sinks.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“I’m on my way,” I whisper before hanging up, and I take a deep breath.
Granny made me her beneficiary. She had explicit details planned for her funeral, including getting her granddaughter back. I don’t know how to make that last one come true for her. It's been six years, and Dirty still can't find her.
“Is uh, everything okay?” Ms. Halls asks with a purr, and I clench my jaw to stop snapping.
She’s gone, the last connection I had with Jas, the woman who treated me like family, is gone…
Fuck.
“No,” I mutter, “I need to grab another doctor to complete your care,” I continue as I look at her, and she opens her mouth to complain, but shuts it when I state, “I’ve just found out one of my family members has passed.”
Her caramel eyes soften, but I look away before she can offer to become a shoulder to cry on and quickly stand as I grab her chart and write what I’ve done before walking out of the cubicle without another word to my patient, who calls, “Doctor?!”
She sounds pissed. Ah, well, just wait until she’s arrested in a minute for assault and attempted murder and possible murder.
The wife is still in quite a bad way and may not even make it and her husband is currently at her bedside begging for forgiveness and for her not to die, or so some nurses gossiped about anyhow.
