“I need to check on my other patients,” he says, straightening.“Make sure everyone’s accounted for.”
I nod, stepping back to give him space.“I’ll be here.We’ll make sure the building’s secure before we leave.”
He starts to walk away, then pauses, turning back to me.Despite the blood, despite the chaos, despite everything that’s happened today, there’s something in his eyes I haven’t seen before.A certainty, a decision made.
“Tonight,” he says, echoing our promise from this morning.“We still need to talk.”
“Tonight,” I agree, the word both a promise and a prayer.
As he walks away to tend to his patients, I watch him go, the weight of my weapon still heavy in my hand.Blood dries tacky between my fingers, not mine, not Xavier’s, but that of the men who threatened him.I should feel something about that, perhaps, but all I feel is a cold certainty: I would do it again, without hesitation, to keep him safe.
My worlds have collided today in ways that cannot be undone.The man who slept in my arms now walks away covered in blood that I helped spill.The doctor who saves lives has witnessed me take them.
And somehow, impossibly, he still looks at me the same way, as if I’m someone worth coming back to.
CHAPTERFOUR
Xavier
I scrub my hands for the fourth time, watching the water run pink, then clear.The sharp smell of antiseptic soap burns my nostrils as I methodically clean beneath my fingernails, between my fingers, up to my elbows.The ritual is a familiar one I’ve performed thousands of times, but today it feels different.Today, I’m washing away more than just blood.
My reflection in the mirror above the sink shows a stranger.Blood spatters my scrubs, my face, even my hair.A small cut above my eyebrow has crusted over.Dark circles beneath my eyes speak of exhaustion beyond physical tiredness.
I shut off the water with my elbow and grab a paper towel, patting my hands dry.The bathroom door opens, and a nurse, Kelly, who helped me with the GSW victim, enters.Her scrubs are as blood-soaked as mine, her face pale with shock.
“Dr.Blane,” she says, voice slightly unsteady.“They’re asking for statements.Police and administration.”
I nod, dropping the paper towel in the trash.“How’s Marissa doing?”
“Still in surgery.Dr.Patel says it’s touch and go, but they’re optimistic.”
Relief flickers through the exhaustion.At least we got her there in time.At least one life might be saved today.
“And the others?”I ask, dreading the answer.
Kelly’s eyes drop.“Two dead on the scene.Three critical but stable.Everyone else has minor injuries or are just in shock.”
Two dead.The knowledge settles heavy in my chest.Two colleagues who came to work this morning never expecting it would be their last day.Two families who will get the worst phone call of their lives.
“You should change,” Kelly says gently, gesturing to my scrubs.“There are clean ones in the locker room.I’ll tell them you’ll be down in ten minutes.”
I nod my thanks, pushing past her into the hallway.The hospital is eerily quiet now, the usual hustle and bustle replaced with hushed voices and the occasional squawk of police radios.Yellow crime scene tape blocks off sections of corridors where just hours ago, people died.
In the locker room, I strip mechanically, stuffing the blood-soaked scrubs into a biohazard bag.The shower beckons, but there’s no time.I settle for wiping myself down with antiseptic wipes before pulling on clean scrubs that feel almost offensively pristine against my skin.
As I’m tying my shoes, the door opens again.I look up, expecting another staff member, but it’s Zach who enters.He’s changed out of his blood-spattered clothes into a clean black t-shirt.
“Hey,” I say, my voice sounding strange to my own ears.
“Hey.”He closes the door behind him, leaning against it.His eyes scan me, checking for injuries I might have hidden.“You okay?”
The question is simple, but the answer isn’t.Am I okay?Physically, yes.But beyond that…
“I don’t know,” I admit, sitting heavily on the bench.“I’ve lost patients before.It’s part of the job.But this…” I gesture vaguely at the door, at the hospital beyond.“This wasn’t disease or accidents or even the usual violence we see.This was… targeted.”
Zach steps forward, his eyes never leaving mine.“I can see that.And I can also see you still have blood all over you.”
I glance down at my hands, still seeing traces of crimson in the creases of my knuckles despite my scrubbing.The metallic scent clings to me, a visceral reminder of everything that happened.
