Triplets Make Five

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Triplets Make Five Page 71

by Nicole Elliot


  “Hang on, Dad,” his daughter said.

  “I don’t have time to hang on,” he said, hurriedly shuffling out of the room.

  “Your dad is sweet,” I said. “People his age—they just like to feel helpful, that’s all. So maybe have him cook with you and give him small tasks to do. Make him feel like he’s contributing sometimes.”

  “You know, that’s a great idea,” she said. “Thank you—”

  “Tessa.”

  “Thank you, Tessa.” We shook hands before she hurried after her father.

  I smiled to myself, thinking of how Mr. Weaver reminded me of my own grandfather. It was the first time I’d smiled all day, despite the fact that Evan had been constantly running through my mind.

  I focused on organizing Mr. Weaver’s files, oblivious to everything around me until one particular sentence caught my attention.

  “Child Protective Services are on their way.”

  I came to a screeching halt, overhearing one of the nurses speaking to an intern that was shadowing her for the week.

  Up until that point, my thoughts had been thoroughly preoccupied with Evan. I’d seen him almost immediately upon starting the shift, and butterflies had floated through my stomach as if I was a teenager, laying eyes on my first crush. But he had ignored me completely. To say I was taken aback was an understatement. But I tried to brush it off, telling myself it was no big deal. After all, we both needed to stay professional; it’s not like we could spend the day holed up in the on call room. But damn if I didn’t want to be.

  My pussy ached as flashes of yesterday filled my mind. His hands on my skin, our scrubs on the floor, the chance that someone could need us at any moment and come barreling in. It was all too much.

  Once I found out that I’d been assigned to another doctor for the day, my reservations were further soothed. I knew that it would look suspicious if Evan went out of his way to talk to me when I wasn’t even working with him today. So as we passed each other in the halls, I kept my brave face on and was determined to not be bothered by the lack of contact between us.

  The only thing that had managed to take him off my mind was overhearing my fellow nurse mention CPS. I strained my ears to hear more, but she resumed speaking in a pitch too low for me to make out anything. An uncomfortable knot had started to form in my stomach. Unable to stop myself, I took several steps in her direction. “Excuse me,” I said, “what’s the name of that patient? The one CPS are coming in for?”

  She glanced down at the chart she was holding. “Sarah McDowell. Female. Seven years old.”

  I felt the blood draining from my face. It’s not like I didn’t know this was going to happen. I had even been expecting it. Yet, no matter how many times I witnessed situations like this, it always felt like a punch to the gut regardless.

  “Where is she?” I asked.

  “She’ll be in shortly to see Dr. Sholly.”

  I nodded, my mind racing. The doctor I’d been assigned to was on break at the time, which meant I was as well. But knowing Sarah was on the way, I knew I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to leave the area. Her face drifted through my mind. I could so vividly recall her big green doe eyes, chubby cheeks, and long curly hair. I could also recall the sadness that lurked beneath her expression when I last saw her, as well as the hope that had begun to seep through as I told her the story about the little princess who’d had a spell cast on her.

  My heart ached, and I halfway wondered if I would be able to stick around to witness what was about to unfold. But I knew I had formed a connection with the girl, and there was no way I could stand the thought of not being there for her at a time like this. So I had to stay.

  It all happened so fast though. The time I desperately needed to mentally prepare for the sad situation was not available, within seconds, Evan appeared. He locked eyes with me briefly—the longest he had looked at me all day. I felt like my heart was going to shatter into a million pieces right then and there. There was no smoldering expression in his dark eyes—only a cold and detached one. What the hell had changed?

  “Good afternoon, Dr. Sholly. Anything we can do for you?” the nurse who’d been speaking with the intern asked. She was obviously assigned to his rotation for the day.

  “No,” he said, his voice short and clipped. “Thank you,” he then added, perhaps realizing how rude he sounded.

  Another nurse appeared in the doorway. “Dr. Sholly—Sarah and Ms. McDowell are here to see you.”

  He nodded. “Yes, send them in.”

  I stood, frozen on the spot and not having any idea what to do. The ball of dread in the pit of my stomach was getting worse.

  The seconds ticked by, each of them feeling like an hour until Sarah and her mother were escorted in. Suddenly, everything felt like it was once again moving too fast because I just wasn’t ready to witness this.

  Sarah immediately smiled upon seeing me. Although my jaws quivered, I forced a smile back at her in return.

  “Hi Tessa!” she said excited.

  “Hi Sarah,” I said, pleased that my voice was at least steady, and that I had managed to make it at least sound cheerful.

  Evan turned in my direction, staring me right in the eye. He slowly moved toward me, and I wondered if he was about to ask for my assistance. But instead, he stopped and drew the curtain, forcing us into separate areas.

  It wasn’t until then that I remembered technically, I wasn’t even supposed to be there. I was on break.

  I closed my eyes, for an instant, exasperated. But instead of taking the cue and leaving the area, I pulled out a chair and took a seat, listening.

  “Hello, Ms. McDowell,” Evan’s voice droned.

  “Yeah, hi,” she responded.

  A heavy pause permeated the air before Evan spoke again. This time, his voice was directed at Sarah. “So, how are you feeling today?”

  “A little better,” she said.

  “That’s good. This is my friend here, Nurse Watson. She’s going to take you to another room to play for a little while, so that I can talk to your mother. Is that okay?”

  “Can I go with Tessa instead?”

  I felt a brief and smug satisfaction over Sarah asking for me, and I almost volunteered to go with her. But then I remembered my break would soon be over, and I’d have to rejoin Dr. Newman soon.

  “Not today, sweetie,” Evan answered. “But I promise you, Nurse Watson is just as nice. And she’s even got a friend with her!. This is…”

  “Jasmine. I’m the intern working with Nurse Watson this week. It’s so nice to meet you, Sarah!”

  “What’s an intern?” Sarah asked suspiciously with narrowed eyes.

  “An intern is a student. It just means I’m still in school, like you!”

  “But why are you still in school? You’re old!” Sarah exclaimed, drawing a brief laugh in what would soon turn into a not-so-funny situation.

  “Well, I’m not that old,” Jasmine said. “Come on—I’ll tell you all about school for old people.”

  “Okay.”

  I listened to their retreating footsteps, knowing that the light-hearted moment was over. I clenched my fists at the sides of my chair, waiting with baited breath for Evan to resume.

  “Look, Ms. McDowell—I’m not good at sugar-coating things, so I’m going to cut straight to the chase.”

  “Fine by me. I’m not much for sugar, anyway. I’ve never been fond of anything too sweet.”

  “Sarah has some suspicious marks on her wrists. They’ve raised some concern, and CPS has been called.”

  There was a pregnant pause in the air, and I worried this woman and Evan could hear my heart pounding.

  “But…she’s just a kid. She could have gotten them scars from anywhere, right?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me. What’s your relationship with your daughter like, ma’am?”

  “It’s fine!”

  “She tends to seem a little nervous around you. And the last time I saw her, she implied to
my nurse that there were people—as in more than one—hurting her.”

  Another long pause. I had expected Ms. McDowell to start arguing at any second, but instead, there was a loud and long sniff. When she spoke again, her voice was heavily choked with tears.

  “It’s not my fault. She just…she acts up sometimes, and you know how kids are. You have to put them in check.”

  “Not with abuse.”

  “It’s not abuse. Not from me…”

  “Who lives in your household?”

  “My boyfriend and his cousin. They…they just get a little impatient at times. But they help out with the bills and stuff.” She descended into sobs that went on for a full minute before she resumed. “I told Sarah not to say anything! I told her I would sort it all out in a little while!”

  “Well, I’m actually glad to hear you say that,” Evan said. “It means that you want what’s best for Sarah. So she’s going to be taken out of harm’s way until her safety can be guaranteed.”

  “Dr. Sholly?” an additional voice appeared.

  “Yes.”

  “Child Protective Services are here.”

  “Okay. Please get Nurse Watson and have her return with the patient.”

  “Of course.”

  Again, one of those weird moments when time moves simultaneously too fast and too slow occurred.

  I heard the nurse and the intern return with Sarah. I heard the voices of other men, trying to politely tell Sarah that she would be coming with them for a little while instead of going to her mother. I heard Sarah began to cry, and her mother began to yell in protest.

  And when I couldn’t take it anymore, I stood up and pulled back the curtain, right in time to see a crying Sarah being taken away.

  I looked toward Evan, seeing his crushed expression. His eyes met with mine for a moment and then he slowly shook his head.

  I didn’t know what that meant.

  But I was sure as hell going to find out.

  CHAPTER 10

  Evan

  I didn’t really need more coffee, but I just needed something to do. I often found the process of making coffee more comforting than drinking it. And after what had just happened with Sarah, I desperately needed something to soothe my nerves.

  The sound of the girl’s crying was something I knew I would never forget as long as I lived. I knew it was for the best that CPS stepped in; the alternative of leaving her in an unsafe environment was completely out of the question. But it didn’t matter, I fucked hated dealing with CPS and kid’s cases. This is why I had been on the night shift, shit like this just didn’t happen then.

  Hell, I could too easily imagine what a child felt like in these circumstances; being taken away by complete strangers typically felt more frightening than staying in an unstable environment.

  The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t. That saying could ring all too true.

  Distracted, I accidently burned my hand on the hot coffee mug. Fuck. Agitated, I swore far louder than I meant to right as the door to the on-call room opened. I closed my eyes for a second, hoping that it was no one but Morris. But when I reopened them, I saw that it was Tessa.

  With a heavy sigh, I reached for a couple packages of sweetener.

  I needed a distraction, but I was pretty sure I didn’t need it to be her. We had already been caught once, what was two times going to do?

  I immediately thought back to the feel of her skin and practically felt my cock harden on the spot. She had started out as just a pretty distraction, but now, she was already so much more. It scared me how strong of a connection I felt with her even though I’d only known her for just a short time, which was all the more reason I had to concentrate on keeping my distance from this point forward.

  I couldn’t get attached.

  I could feel her staring at me, and I was well aware that she realized I’d been ignoring her the whole day. I just couldn’t face her though—at least not without replaying the previous day in my head. My cock pulsed again at the thought. At this rate I’d have to take care of myself in the on-call room. Damn.

  I attempted to open several packets of sweetener all at once, but with too much force. They spilled all over the counter and I swore again.

  “Rough day?” Tessa asked, standing beside me with her own coffee mug.

  “You think?” I said, reaching for more sweetener. I opened them carefully this time and poured them into my cup. I searched the table for the coffee creamer, seeing that they were beside Tessa. “Hand me a pack of creamer, will you?”

  She silently reached for a packet of cream and held it out to me. I took it from her hand, my fingertips brushing against her palm and reminding me once again how soft and delicious her skin was—stop thinking. Focus on the coffee.

  I clenched my jaw and turned away from her, carefully opening the creamer and pouring it into my coffee as well. Grabbing a plastic spoon, I began to stir, watching the black liquid lighten to rich brown.

  I set the spoon down and picked up my cup, realizing I suddenly didn’t know what to do or where to go. Tessa was still staring at me, and I so desperately wanted to meet her gaze. But I was afraid of the feelings those bright blue eyes would inspire in me. I was already feeling so down—so broken—that I knew it would be all too easy to seek comfort in her.

  I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache forming.

  Tessa cleared her throat, the sound startlingly loud in the silence of the room. “Excuse me, Evan.”

  Finally, I looked up at her. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail, which intensified her stunning beauty. Her face was makeup-free, but still flawless thanks to her smooth and unblemished skin. And despite the obvious tension in the way she held her mouth, her lips still looked so soft and kissable.

  I wanted her.

  Every bit of that delicious skin.

  She blinked at me, and I realized she had asked me to move over; she wanted to make herself some coffee, but I was blocking the counter.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said, stepping aside.

  Tessa poured hot water into her cup, and I realized she was actually making tea rather than coffee. I turned away and headed to the bench-seat in the corner of the room.

  I took a long slow sip of the coffee while absentmindedly listening to the sounds of Tessa preparing her tea. In the forefront of my mind though, was Sarah. Just the mere thought of her brought a sting to my eyes. I blinked rapidly, threatening the moisture in my eyes to go away just as I had been for hours on end. I wouldn’t dare let those tears fall; I’d shed more than a lifetime’s worth of tears in my childhood already. All I could do was hope I hadn’t condemned Sarah to a similar fate.

  Hell—it was those experiences that led me to the military in the first place. Unstable home environments could really mess with a kid’s head. And when a kid felt vulnerable, it was often far too easy for other kids to pick up on it. And needless to say, kids could be pretty damn cruel.

  Sometimes in my nightmares, I still heard the taunts of jeers of my childhood tormentors. They used to call me every derogatory name in the book that revolved around questioning my manhood (or boyhood back then). Even worse, I never had the energy to fight back in those days. Spending the majority of my evenings fighting and defending myself from the revolving door of adults supposedly taking care of me often left me listless by morning when it was time to face other children. Assholes.

  By the time I was a teenager, I decided that I needed toughening up. I joined the military the first chance I got. But not even the military could fully erase the hurt little boy that still resided inside of me. He was the reason I always felt reluctant to get close to anyone. He was the reason I had such severe trust issues. He was the one who lashed out and pushed people away whenever someone happened to catch my attention and draw me in. He wanted to protect me because in his experience, getting close to others only resulted in getting hurt.

  Hopefully Sarah didn’t turn out the same way.

&
nbsp; “I thought I was shaken up, but not nearly as much as you.”

  I jumped at the sound of Tessa’s voice, as well as her nearness. I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t even realized her joining me on the bench. She sat beside me, her legs crossed and holding a steaming hot cup of tea to her chest.

  Earlier that day, I had purposely ignored her and easily noted her irritation despite her efforts to hide it. But now, her expression toward me was soft and gentle. She took a sip of her tea and then stared at her lap. “So, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “I wish I was back on the night shift, that’s all. It’s easier. No kids.”

  Tessa nodded and took another sip of her tea. “Working the night shift prevents you from encountering more cases like Sarah’s.”

  I gripped my coffee mug tightly, not caring how it burned my hands.

  “Why are you so affected?” Tessa asked.

  “What do you mean?” I said, feigning ignorance.

  “By what happened to Sarah,” she said. I could hear the silent ‘duh’ she left out. “I saw the way you looked after she was taken away from her mom.”

  I took a sip of my coffee. “I just...have a feeling what it’s like. Sort of.”

  In reality, I knew what it was like all too well. I’m sure my expression when I was taken away for the first time had mirrored Sarah’s exactly. After the fifth time, probably not so much. It got a little easier each time, but that was only because I felt a little deader inside each time. Fuck, I had gotten dark in my adulthood.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Tessa tilting her head. “Do you know someone who was taken away? I mean, in your personal life?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I guess you can say that.”

  “Who was it?”

  Me.

  My situation had been the opposite of Sarah’s in some ways though. My mom passed when I was so young that I had no memories of her. I had been raised by my dad. He had brought women into our household who had exposed me to things no child should have had to endure. Things took an ultimate turn for the worst when he remarried. My stepmother abhorred me, and the feeling quickly became mutual. Unfortunately, my dad couldn’t function without women in his life, so he either turned a blind eye to the animosity between us, or was too naïve to notice until things escalated out of control. When my gym teacher noticed all the burn marks on my arms, that’s when all Hell broke loose. Those burn marks caused so much trouble that in adulthood, I covered my arms with tattoos just to hide them. But not even the pain I endured getting inked-up could match the pain and heartache those burns had caused.

 

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