The Last Shot

by Sara Hubbard

  15

  ANNIE

  I run into Kim in the break room while I change into my nursing shoes and hang up my sweater. She pulls her hair back into a ponytail while she waits for the coffee percolator to brew. I haven’t seen her since the other day when she left early for her son.

  “How’s your son?” I ask.

  “Oh, good. Five stitches. I’ll have to part his hair on the other side to cover it up, but it could have been worse.”

  I smile in agreement. It’s great to hear her son came out okay.

  I put my lunch in the fridge: some veggies and dip and leftover lasagna from the freezer that I’d forgotten about.

  “Cathy said you picked up my admission the other day. Thanks for that. Especially since...you know.” She shrugs and removes her coffee from the machine once it drains out its last drop.

  “I’m sorry?” I say, unsure of what she means.

  “I don’t know. I heard some of the girls talking. They saw you leave with his brother that night…um...the hockey player? And one of the girls said she heard you dated him in high school. Running into exes—at least for me—is never fun.”

  “It was fine. Really. We were friends long before we were anything more.”

  “The girls told me he’s hot. I'm not into hockey or anything, but I googled him last night and yep, definitely eye candy.”

  I nod, biting my tongue. Handsome doesn’t even cut it. And it’s not just the way he looks, but the way he looks at me, like I’m the only other person in the room. It unhinges me, brings me back to a time when I was so crazy in love I couldn’t breathe without being near him. Sometimes it scared me how much I felt. Every day I waited for the shoe to drop, for something terrible to go wrong. Waiting for the moment when he would realize that he didn’t need a small town, average girl. Not when he could have whoever he wanted—still could.

  “Anyway, I should get back out there. Haley called in sick, so I agreed to say till eleven.”

  “See you out there,” I say as she leaves. When the door clicks shut, I’m alone and it doesn’t sit well with me. Alone with my thoughts is never a good thing. I’d rather be busy, so I stand and head back out, only to bump into a firm chest.

  Two hands reach out to steady me. “Careful,” Charlie says, smiling at me.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  “It’s okay. You look distracted.” He lowers his voice. “Everything okay?” He leans his head down and lifts an eyebrow up in question.

  “I'm fine.” No sooner do these words come out of my mouth than Ethan rounds the desk and approaches me. He glares at Charlie's hands, still firm on my elbows, steadying me. Aw, hell. One thing I don't love about Ethan: he takes jealousy to a whole new level. I mean, I get it. Losing someone he cares for scares him, especially after losing his mother, but...his anger used to frighten me and I haven’t seen it up close in very long time. His glare is intimidating, makes me round my shoulders and take a step back from Charlie.

  Charlie clears his throat, straightens, and turns to see what has captured my attention. My heart hammers in my chest so hard I can feel my blood pulsing through my neck.

  “Is there something you haven't told me?” Charlie asks, his expression tense.

  “What?”

  My eyes dart back and forth between Charlie and Ethan. He’d have to be stupid not to notice how I look at Ethan—and Charlie is anything but stupid.

  “Annie?” Charlie says.

  Ethan shakes his head. He sticks his thumb out in Charlie’s direction. “This your doctor friend?” He chuckles to himself.

  “Can I help you with something?” Charlie says, propping his hands on his hips and sticking his chest out like a man claiming his space.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ethan says.

  “Excuse me?” Charlie says, his nostrils flaring. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Charlie pissed off before, but then, Ethan has a way of bringing out the worst in people when he’s determined to make a point.

  “Ethan, I’m at work.”

  “Who the hell is this, Annie?” Charlie asks.

  “Ethan Michaels, this is Dr. Charlie Davidson.”

  Neither of them offer to shake hands. Charlie stares Ethan down while Ethan refuses to break away from my stare. With my eyes, I plead with him not to make a scene.

  “And who is he to you?” Charlie asks.

  Oh, holy hell. Some of the nurses pass by and watch the situation unfold, their curious eyes lingering on the three of us longer than could be considered polite.

  I do something awful. Something I can’t take back and the moment the words fall out of my mouth, I know I’ve made a mistake. “We went to high school together,” I tell Charlie. “He’s Emmanuel Michaels’s brother.”

  “Ethan Michaels? The hockey player?”

  “That’s exactly who I am,” Ethan says. “Someone she knew a long time ago.”

  Charlie isn’t buying the casual spin I’ve added to Ethan’s and my relationship, and introducing Ethan as someone who meant so little to me has gone and hardened him. His blue eyes turn stormy and I know I need to have a word with him before he reacts.

  “Can we have a moment to talk about your brother?” Charlie asks. “He’s been in my care since admission to Rawdon General.”

  Ethan’s lips curl into a devilish smile. “Sure, Doc,” he says.

  Charlie clears his throat to get my attention. “Can you give us a moment?”

  No. I can’t. But how do I say that without causing a big problem between the three of us while onlookers watch with keen interest?

  “Annie?” a voice says, calling my attention to down the hall. “Can I give you a quick turnover?” I’m picking up Claire’s team tonight and I really should hear what she has to say. It could be important.

  I don't even know where to look. Ethan. Charlie. Claire. Shit. Shit. Shit. With desperate eyes, I continue to plead with Ethan. He knows me well enough to know how upset I'd be if he did something to Charlie. I have to believe he'll respect that, but you just never know with Ethan. Predictably unpredictable.

  “Um...sure,” I say, taking a step back. I walk away, glancing back every few steps, waiting for Ethan to lose control. But he doesn’t. He proves me wrong. He focuses on Charlie and whatever he’s saying. Please let it be about Manny. Please don’t let this be about me and whatever awkward moment we all just shared.

  16

  ETHAN

  “Charlie Davidson,” I say, letting his name roll around my tongue. Oh, Annie. He couldn't be more opposite from me. It makes me want to laugh out loud. From his loafers to his shirt buttoned all the way up to the top button. He's a complete and utter douchebag. And there is something off about him. Maybe it's his eyes. He knows who I am, probably has an idea of who I am to Annie. He's a doctor, so he can't be completely clueless. But that's not what I see in his eyes. I see controlled rage. Trust me. I know it when I see it and this guy is a beast in a very controlled and neatly pressed cage.

  When Annie is out of earshot, he asks me to follow him into a room and shuts the door behind us. The room is small with a table and some chairs and the far wall has a few tall windows. I'm not here to talk about Manny and neither is he. I just hope he's going to be straight up about it and not try to tiptoe about while he tries to figure me out.

  “I'd say I'm a fan,” he begins, “but that would be a lie.”

  I laugh out loud. All right buddy. Let's play. Don't even think you can try to intimidate me in this white-walled room layered with scents of cleaner and antiseptic.

  He walks over to the table and leans back against it, folding his hands over his chest.

  “I'm just going to get right to the point. Are you sleeping with her?”

  I wasn't expecting him to be that upfront. “Do you honestly think I'd share that with you?”

  “Annie and I are in love. If you care about her at all, you'll respect that and leave us alone.”

  “You're in love?
Are you fucking delusional? Does it escape you that she ended it with you?”

  His eyelid twitches and I have to admit I find it kind of comical. This guy is so far gone he doesn’t even stand a shot. He never did.

  “She's been distant lately and I can only assume that's because of you. I know about you. All about you. She is confused right now, but she loves me. She will choose me if you make her.”

  “If you have something to tell me about my brother, then go ahead and tell me. Otherwise, stay the fuck away from Annie and me. And if you say her name to me again I will knock you the fuck out.”

  Charlie chuckles and it sends prickles down my spine. I want to hurt him. I want it so badly I can almost feel how satisfying it would be to wipe the smug look off his face and have his blood drip from my knuckles. My hands start to twitch just thinking about it.

  “I don't fight battles I know I'll lose,” he says. “That's your one and only warning.”

  “And I fight to win. So hit me with your best shot, Doc. I'm begging you.”

  Slowly I take my time wandering out of his office, careful to give him one last grin as I reach the door. Annie's in love with him? Not a chance. I'd feel bad for him if I didn't immediately hate him. And I do hate him. Not because I think she'll choose him, but because he's just cocky enough to think she will.

  Stupid bastard.

  17

  ANNIE

  I putter around the hallways, waiting for Ethan and Charlie to come out of the office they disappeared inside. My stomach is in knots, praying to God that Ethan doesn't react to Charlie. Charlie is such a sweet guy. He’s not a fighter and if Ethan took a swing, I can't even imagine the damage he'd do to him.

  “Annie,” says Tammy, one of my co-workers. “Can you give me hand?”

  “Um...”

  “Please?”

  “Sure.”

  Tammy and I enter 3110 and I stop in place, my jaw falling slack. Tammy yells at her patient. “Mr. Crowe, that’s not a commode!”

  Mr. Crowe is crouching over a black garbage bin, apparently about to have a bowel movement. We rush over to him and help him to stand up.

  Tammy hooks the bin with her foot and pushes it out of the way while I slide the commode in behind his naked body. “Thanks,” Tammy says. “And that’s not even why I asked you for help.”

  “Well, I can’t wait for what’s next,” I say, wondering how quickly this day is about to take a turn for the worse. And once Mr. Crowe is finished, I get my answer. Yep, today is definitely one for the books. Behind the curtain of Mr. Crowe’s room is the man in bed two and he’s standing in feces. It’s on the tiled floor, on the wall and on the curtains. “What the hell happened?” I ask.

  “Code Brown,” Claire says matter of factly.

  You can say that again.

  It takes Claire and I over a half hour to get the room cleaned to a point where the cleaners will actually come in and sterilize the space. Meanwhile, we take the patients out into the TV Room.

  By this time, I am sick to my stomach worrying about Charlie and Ethan. I ask anyone if they’ve seen Dr. Davidson and Cathy tells me he left the floor a few minutes ago, and that she thinks he went up to check on a patient in ICU. I don’t know if I believe that, but I just smile and accept her reason and go back to work, going to Manny’s room first.

  I hesitate by his door, sure that Ethan will be in the room with his brother. What will I say to him about Charlie? About how I belittled who he is and what he means to me?

  I don’t think I can face him. I’m sorry. So sorry. Because I know I’ve hurt him and he’ll have no problem telling me just that. He doesn’t mince words. He says what he means without thinking about how it affects the person he delivers it to.

  After taking a deep breath, I push the door open and walk inside, ready for what awaits me. Manny sits in a chair by the window. His color has improved and he’s eating what looks like a burrito. Ethan lies in his bed and they're watching the news, the guy on the television talking about the dismal game Ethan's team played last night.

  “Hey, Manny,” I say quietly.

  “You look like hell,” he says, between bites. “And what’s that on your shirt?”

  “Wow. Good to see you, too.” I refuse to look down and see what he’s pointing at. Who knows what I’ll find.

  He laughs out loud.

  I notice the take-out food on his tray and smell the spice in the curry. “Pretty sure that wasn’t on the menu,” I say.

  “Ethan brought it.” He nods to his brother who is intently staring at the TV.

  “Ethan?”

  He glances at me, winks, and looks back at the TV. Maybe he's not mad at me after all. Here I thought I had some massive explaining to do.

  “I got to take a piss,” Manny says, pushing himself out of his seat. I help him, but he bats my hands away. “I got it. Keep my brother company until I get back?”

  “Of course.”

  He slowly walks into the bathroom, his ass hanging out. Ethan rolls his eyes at him and I let out a little whistle. Manny is smiling when he turns to close the door.

  “Ethan, I didn't mean that...I just haven't told Charlie about you...and...” I take a seat in Manny’s chair so we’re almost eye level.

  “You never mentioned me to the Doctor?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “You know you're not just a friend from my past.”

  “Hmm,” he mumbles, looking pensive.

  I’m left a little confused. I'm not sure why this bothers him more than my saying he means less to me than he does.

  “It's fine. I know why you said it,” he says. “You didn't want to hurt his feelings. It's okay, really.”

  “Really?”

  “Fuck him.” He hitches his foot around my chair and with one swift movement, he yanks me closer, leaning in so I can feel his breath on my face. “He doesn't matter.” He presses a hard kiss to my lips, claiming my mouth with his tongue and for a moment, I consider climbing on top of him and doing way more than kissing in Manny's bed.

  “I told you, you're mine. I'm not threatened by anyone, least of all him.” He runs a hand down my cheek and plays with the ends of my ponytail.

  “You looked like you wanted to murder him.”

  He shrugs. “I figured you'd be mad if I broke his legs and his face. I don't really like when you're mad at me.”

  “Is that the only thing that held you back?” I say, trying to make light of his comment, though it's anything but.

  “I don't really like the inside of a cell?”

  “You would know, I guess.”

  “You heard about that?”

  I roll my eyes. “How could I not? It was all over the news two years ago. It was awful knowing you were having a hard time and knowing I couldn't reach out to you.”

  “Why couldn't you?”

  “I wanted to make a clean break. I thought it was best.” I bite my lip, gathering the strength to continue. “I'm not strong enough to say no to you. Not on the phone and certainly not in person.”

  “Well, if I'd known that, I would have been on the first plane back here. I would have gotten you to pack your stuff and I would have carried you to the plane and took you back with me.”

  “I think I knew that. I wanted it. And then when you didn't, I thought you'd given up on me.”

  “You think I give on up shit?” He laughs under his breath. “Remember that game in senior high when the coach put me in my place for not hanging back? He told me I wasn't forward and I wasn't there to score goals. Every time he put me on the ice that was all I did. Score. And every time I did, he just kept pulling me off. Eventually, he just shrugged his shoulders and realized I was winning us games. He never said a word after that. He thought I would cave and do what he wanted so I could get ice time, but I don't fold. I fight harder.”

  “I love that about you. Which is why I thought you’d given up on me when you left and didn’t come back.”

  “I’m not a mind reader, Ann
ie. Especially where you’re concerned. You’ve got to talk to me and let me into your head. I didn't come back because I love you. I wanted to give you what you wanted, no matter how much it fucking crushed me, so I let you go.”

  I press another kiss to his lips, just a peck, and let out a quiet sigh. How could I have let him go? How could I have believed he'd give up on us so easily? If only I wasn’t so insecure, so damn broken, and constantly in need of his reassurance. I didn't end us to test him, though I guess he might see it that way now. It was just me letting him move on if he wanted to. Giving him an out.

  I want to ask him about what Manny and I talked about, about him giving up hockey, but I worry about what he’ll say. And I also worry I’ll look foolish if Manny was way off the mark.

  “What time will you get up tomorrow?” he asks.

  “I'm not sure if I'll sleep. This is my last shift and then I'm off for a few days.”

  “Can I drop by?”

  “You don't need an invitation.”

  “But I want one.”

  “Yes, Ethan. You can come by.”

  The bathroom door clicks open and I attempt to lean away from Ethan, but he holds me close.

  Manny pretends to vomit. “I thought you two were nauseating before. I didn't think you could get worse.”

  “It could get a lot worse,” Ethan says, moving a hand down to firmly grip my ass, but I twist out of his grasp and slip away.

  “I’m working,” I tell him. “Manny, do you need anything? Pain meds?”

  “Nope. I’m good.”

  “Pot was enough?”

  “Ha ha ha,” he says, without humor.

  “Okay. I'll be back in a bit. Try not to let Ethan kill your doctor, okay?”

  Manny glances at his brother and smirks. “You've met Dr. Dreamy?”

  “Dr. Dreamy? Seriously?” Ethan frowns.

  “That's what the nurses call him.” Manny smiles widely.