“So, how are we doing over here?” she asks Kyle.
“Just fine and dandy, ma’am. Sweet like chocolate,” Kyle drawls, and I have to hold back a snicker. Dr. Kent has that effect on men. She’s a sexy, redheaded bombshell, with eyes as green as emeralds. I’ve always thought she’d make a perfect Poison Ivy. The man is obviously smitten.
“This is Mister Kyle Wills, Doc, seems to have a broken leg, and I’ve written him down for a blood test and a chest X-ray. He was injured in a house fire,” I summarize. “His vitals are satisfactory, blood pressure slightly elevated, but it’s understandable.”
“You good with that, Mr. Wills—”
“Oh, it’s just Kyle to you, Doc.” He licks his lips, and I have to stifle a laugh.
“Down boy,” she warns. “I’d also like an ABG on him for the smoke inhalation. Just to be sure. He sounds a bit phlegmy,” Dr. Kent says, and I scribble that down.
“Bloods and ABG on them both. Mr…? I suggest, motioning to where Bossy frowns from his seat in the corner.
“Wild,” he answers, his head cocked to the side, observing me. If only his looks could make up for his stinking attitude.
“Mr. Wild also had some smoke exposure,” I add.
“It’s unlikely I was affected. Yeah, I was exposed for a few minutes, but I feel fine. So no. I don’t need treatment,” he bites, his jaw set, eyes hard and unrelenting.
“As you wish,” I shrug, turning back to the chart. “I was just trying to be helpful. Doing my job.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not your patient, Ms. Nightingale,” he sneers.
“Is that supposed to be a dig?” I snort. Pretty lame.
“Take it any way you like, sweetheart.” He smirks. The man is riling me up. I’m about to retort when Doctor Kent interrupts, “All right, shall we get Mr. Wills to radiology?”
I nod before taking my leave. The things I want to say to that cocky bastard.
I call the lab and a porter to take my patient to radiology.
“What was that about?’ Dr. Kent asks when she joins me at the nurses’ station.
“Argh. I don’t know. I’m probably just tired. Letting that guy get to me.”
“He is pretty frustrating.” She scrunches her nose.“That smug attitude.”
“We should head to Bay 5,” I tell her. “A teenager brought in by his parents with ‘food poisoning’,” I say with air quotes. “Boy is reeking of alcohol and other things I won’t admit to knowing about.”
“This ought to be fun. Let’s run toxicology and let it speak for us.” She laughs as we make our way toward the triage.
* * *
It’s still raining outside when I finally make it out a few hours later. I rush over to my old Mazda and climb in, wanting nothing more than to get home. This has been an extra-long day. The car's interior is stuffy, and I rub my hands together to warm them, inwardly cursing that my heating is bust. Rain pelts down on the roof and against the windows. I turn the key, and old faithful doesn’t start. “Come on,” I hiss, trying again. “Shit, shit, shit.” I slam my fist against the steering wheel. “Not on a night like this.”
I pop the hood and get out. I hook it up and look down at the engine. God, I wish I knew more about cars. I didn’t think I had to. Tate used to take care of those things for a while. Then I remind myself that I’m better off without him. I was just a gullible girl who fell for a man twice my age, a man who wanted an escape from reality, and I was dumb enough to give him that. It was all in my head, what I thought he felt for me. I used to believe in fairy tales, and what I got was quite the opposite.
I start to kick the car’s bumper until my feet hurt. Until all the things I want to say to the ghosts of my past are drowned out by the rain, until I stand spent, tears of hurt and anger washing away like the dreams I used to have.
“Don’t know whatshedid, but it’s gonna hurt you more than it hurts her.” Wild’s husky voice brings me back to the present. I must look like a psychopath, kicking my car, standing out here in the rain, shouting. “Need me to take a look?”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I respond without turning to face him.
“Look, I picked up a thing or two about cars over the years, probably not as much as you, but you should get out of the rain,” he snickers.
I close my eyes. I should be stubborn and stand my ground. He’s been nothing but an asshole to me, and he doesn’t even know me. That, and his attempt at humor sucks. But fuck am I tired.
“Come on. It’s the least I can do for being a jerk back there. I’m just not good with people.”So he noticed.
