“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I cut the call and look at my untouched burger, downing the rest of my beer.
“I’ll put it on your tab, Starfish,” Darren shouts as I exit the bar. He’ll send my burger to the hospital, wrapped up with a note the way he always does. It’s the small acts of kindness and generosity like that which makes what I do worth it—beingseen for the little ray of sunshine I bring, as Darren tells me.
I met Darren in the emergency room a month after I started at the hospital. It was a few minutes after my shift ended when his boyfriend, Kiran, rushed him in. An attempted hijacking went wrong. I remember the wild look in Kiran's eyes, the tear stains on his cheeks, and the blood that soaked his blue shirt and covered his hands.I knew I had to stay, help any way I could.
Kiran had been locking up the bar out back when it happened. The guy shot Darren three times, missing his vital organs by mere inches. The piece of shit left him for dead. He didn’t even take the car. If that isn’t messed up, I don’t know what is.
I sat with Kiran that night, not bothering to go home. I gave him a set of scrubs to change into and made us both coffee. He never left Darren’s bedside.
The three of us have been friends since. Besides Tam, they’re the only other friends I have.
I walk into the emergency room, and it’s chaos all around. So much for a quiet night. I’ve been working double shifts almost every week thanks to Kelly and her pregnancy woes.
“You’re a lifesaver.” Tam comes up behind me in the cloakroom, hugging me around the waist. “I need you in bay 2. Firemen just got brought in.”
“You owe me,” I mumble. She kisses my cheek and disappears. I would do just about anything for Tamara. She was there for me during my darkest hours, and she never gave me crap about the number of sick days I took. She was a shoulder to lean on then and still is. We don’t talk about that time, the dark days, but when she looks at me, there’s a sadness in her eyes. I guess broken souls recognize each other.
I shrug out of my jacket, hanging it in my locker. A locker void of pictures or children’s drawings like some of the other lockers here have. Tam and I are alike in that way. After grabbing my stethoscope, chewing gum, I make my way over to Bay 2.
I draw back the floral patterned curtain, a friendly grin plastered on my face, and I meet the cold grey stare and stoic expression of a gorgeous specimen of a man. I am about to begin daydreaming about all the things I’d like him to do to me when he snaps, “About bloody time.”
“Excuse me?” I cock a brow, his attitude annoying the shit out of me, my good mood plummeting, making his good looks irrelevant.
“We’ve been waiting here at least an hour.” He glares at me in a way that could make another nurse nervous. Not me. He’s just another pushy asshole. I have dealt with his kind my whole life. Entitled shits who think they own the damn world.
“Come on, man, it hasn't been that long.” The guy on the bed coughs, offering me a weak smirk, then flinching. His dark-skinned face looks like it was chiseled by the gods. Kind dark eyes that glisten when he looks at me. “Forgive my friend here. Patience ain't one of his virtues.”
“I’m sorry you had to wait, sir.” I direct my comment to my patient instead of the rude jerk, biting back the comment I want to make. I cannot help but sneak a glance. He’s all mysterious and broody. Dark, messy hair that falls over his eyes, lightly tanned skin, and built like a gladiator.
I clear my throat. “So, Mister…?”
“Wills,” my patient offers before I can turn the page in his file. “Kyle Wills.” I notice the pants of his uniform are pretty bloodied up.
“Well, Mister Wills, I’ve called the doctor, and she should be here shortly, but in the meantime, can you move your leg at all?” I smile at him, all the while feeling his friend’s eyes on my back.
“I can. It just hurts like hell when I do.”
“That’s ’cause you’re a pussy.” His friend stands and walks over to the bed. He folds his arms over his broad chest, towering over me.
“I think he’s broken it. Paramedics said the same thing.” He looks down at me. Mr. Know-it-all.
“You can wait out there.” I look up at the guy who is crowding me.I motion to the waiting area outside the bays.
“I’ll stay. Thank you.”Suit yourself, I think. His jaw ticks and I wonder what his deal is. He seems pissed at the world. I get that his friend is hurt, but does he have to be such a dickhead? Aren’t Firemen supposed to be polite?
“Well, you need to get out of my way if you are.”
He reluctantly takes a seat in the chair he vacated.
“Wanna tell me what happened then?” I say as I wash my hands.
Kyle proceeds to tell me about the fire, the staircase caving in, and how his friend saved him.I look over at the asshole, and he glares right back at me.
I pause to make notes on the file. He’ll need an X-ray and some blood work. The doctor will tell him that when she comes in. I use scissors to cut open the leg of his pants so I can see the damage. He flinches even at the slightest touch. Definitely a break. I use gauze and some water to clean up the scrapes on his leg and the small cut on his face and put up an IV drip.
“Ah, Ocea, back already? You and I shouldn’t bother leaving for the night,” Dr. Kent says in a cheery voice as she steps into the bay.
I smirk. “They should get us cots so we can move right in.” She’s right. We’re always working double shifts and extended hours. She’s recently divorced, and throwing herself into work has been her coping strategy. It seems to be working. Moira is less angry and more herself. It sucks to have your husband cheat on you, then blame it on the fact that you can’t have kids. As if Dr. Kent asked to have her womb removed at twenty-six after an accident said husband caused driving intoxicated.
