“Sure…nottoobad. Just bad enough to fuck up this weekend.” Anker huffs a harsh breath.
“Sorry, Larsen. You’ll be off your feet for a bit,” Ray says.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“We don’t have time to figure that out,” Garrett says dryly.
“Ha. Ha,” Anker harrumphs.
The little exchange causes the tension inside me to unspool. If Anker was truly hurt, Garrett wouldn’t tease him. At least the kind of hurt where there is something to worry about.
“Fractured ankle. Two broken ribs. Lacerations at the hairline and right knee. Possible concussion,” Garrett says, his tone steady.
“That sounds bad.” I twist to face Garrett, who stands behind me holding a tablet.
“He’ll survive.”
“Your bedside manner is top-notch, Marlowe,” Anker snarks.
He ignores my brother. “Like Deridder says, it sounds worse than it is. He’ll be okay.” A hint of a tender smile plays in the gentle timbre of his voice.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
Technically, he didn’t do anything, but his reassurance calms the anxiety that has rippled inside me since the charge nurse called him. The thought of something happening to Anker terrifies me. He’s not just a brother. Until Catherine, he was my only real friend—even if I don’t always tell him everything. A dull ache radiates in my chest at the idea of anything happening to him.
“Garrett, are you using your hospital credentials to read my chart?” Anker says, aghast. “It’s bad enough being brought into the hospital where I work and having my colleagues patch me up. I’d prefer my best friend not poke around in my medical records.”
“Don’t worry, I ignored the note about that foot fungus you needed antibiotics for a few months back.”
I snort.
“Hilarious,” Anker grumbles.
“Just doing my due diligence as inpatient chief to see if you’ll require admission.” Garrett looks up from the tablet.
The audible smirk in his snark causes my mouth to curl upward.
“Total abuse of power,” Anker grumbles.
“I don’t think his ankle needs surgery.” He clicks his tongue twice.
“Seriously.I’m right here!”
Ignoring my brother, he continues, “Still, let’s get an ortho consult just to be on the safe side.”
“Agree.” Ray taps something into his tablet.
“Don’t agree with him. He’s not my doctor. He doesn’t even work in the ED,” Anker mumbles with the fervor of an unruly child.
“File a complaint with HR.”
He tosses his hands into the air. “HR, the shitty cherry on top of the turd sundae that is today.”
“On that note, let me go see if the charge nurse can work his magic to get ortho down here sooner.” Ray moves towards the room’s entrance.
I pivot. “Thank you, Ray.”
He stops, turning to look over his shoulder. “Of course. It was lovely meeting you.”
