Selfless Hero: A Bad Boy Military Doctor Romance (Savage Soldiers Book 1)

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Selfless Hero: A Bad Boy Military Doctor Romance (Savage Soldiers Book 1) Page 5

by Nicole Elliot


  “Dr. Lewis?” an additional voice appeared.

  “Yes?”

  “Child Protective Services are here.”

  “Okay. Please get Nurse Tyson 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 Raya. I heard the voices of other men, trying to politely tell Raya that she would be coming with them for a little while instead of going to her mother. I heard Raya 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 Raya being taken away.

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

  CHAPTER 10

  Max

  I didn’t really want more coffee, but I needed something to do. I often found the process of making coffee more comforting than actually drinking it. And after what had just happened with Raya, I desperately needed some comforting.

  The sound of the girl’s crying was something 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 fucking hated dealing with CPS and kids’ cases. That’s why I had been on the night shift, where shit like that rarely happened.

  I too easily understood what a child felt like in those kinds of 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 rang all too true.

  Distracted, I accidently burned my hand on the hot coffee mug.

  “Fuck,” I swore, far louder than I meant.

  Right that instant, the door to the on-call room swung open. I closed my eyes for a second, hoping that it was no one but Rick. But when I reopened them, I saw that it was Kylie.

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

  I needed a distraction, but I didn’t need it to be her. We had already been caught once; we didn’t need to make it twice.

  I immediately thought back to the feel of her skin and practically felt myself 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 at the thought. At this rate I’d have to take care of myself soon. Damn.

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

  “Rough day?” Kylie 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 then searched the table for the coffee creamer, seeing that they were beside Kylie. “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 it. Just fix your coffee, I chastised myself.

  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 a 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. Kylie 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.

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

  Finally, I looked up at her. Her long blond 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 and 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.

  She 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 Kylie preparing her tea. In the forefront of my mind though, was Raya. 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 Raya 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. Needless to say, kids could be pretty damn cruel.

  Sometimes in my nightmares, I still heard the taunts and jeers of my childhood tormentors. They used to call me every derogatory name in the book that revolved around questioning my manhood—or boyhood rather. Even worse, I’d never had the energy to fight back; 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.

  Those assholes.

  By the time I was a teenager, I decided I needed to toughen 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 Raya wouldn’t turn out the same way.

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

  I jumped at the sound of Kylie’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 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.”

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

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

  “Why are you so affected?” Kylie asked.

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

  “By what happened to Raya.” I could hear the silent ‘duh’ she left ou
t. “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 Raya’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.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Kylie tilt 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 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.

  Mrs. Michaelson may not have been on the shortlist for any Mother-of-the-Year awards, but at least she had shed tears at the sight of her daughter being taken away. My dad—he had stood there with a forced calm. When I began to scream and cry, he offered no words of comfort, nor did he reach out for me. He hadn’t yelled at the people taking me away either. He just fixed me with a stern gaze and shook his head as if telling me to stop crying.

  The last words he said to me before I was dragged out of the door of the shabby house I had called home for eight years was, “You’re all right. Don’t worry about it.”

  I think what bothered me most was not knowing whether my dad just hadn’t cared, or if he was just trying to put on a brave face for my sake.

  Swimming in memories from the past, I was brought back to the present when Kylie touched my knee. “Hey, you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m all right. Don’t worry about it,” I said, grimacing as my dad’s voice echoed through my brain.

  “Who was taken away, Max?”

  I cleared my throat. “My dad—he uhm…”

  “Your dad was a foster child?”

  I shook my head. “No, not him.”

  Kylie’s eyes widened, having guessed the truth by then. I took a deep breath and stared straight ahead, unsure of how much I wanted to tell her.

  “My mom died when I was practically a baby. So it was just me and my dad until he started bringing around a bunch of different women. Some of them were nice, I guess. But others—not so much. There was one in particular—she caused a lot of trouble for us. My dad wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. But I was taken away before he could figure it out. I grew up with a few foster families.”

  “How did your foster families treat you?”

  The stinging returned to my eyes. “Fucking terrible. I often thought I would have been better off just sticking with my dad despite how rough things had been with him. That’s the thing about being an abused kid—no matter how badly you’re treated, a part of you will always long for the family you were born to.” I shrugged my shoulders. “It doesn’t matter though. I just hope Raya ends up with a good family. Good families can be hard to find. I wouldn’t wish what I went through on my worst enemy.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Kylie

  I knew Max was giving me the edited version of his story because the expression on his face clearly insinuated that the hardships he’d endured as a child were more than he could bear discussing.

  He sat there, staring off into oblivion, his dark eyes misty with the tears he fought hard hold back; it was simultaneously heartbreaking and beautiful to behold. Seeing such a large, muscular, and dignified man in such a vulnerable moment—it was like I could see a glimpse of the child he had once been. A part of me wanted to sweep that child into my arms and make sure no one ever hurt him again.

  And then there was the man—the accomplished, tough-as-nails military doctor. With him, I was feeling the urge to kiss away any bad memory he possibly possessed.

  I carefully set down my cup of tea so that I could rub Max’s back. He tensed slightly at my touch before relaxing into it. I continued rubbing my hands over the taut muscles so easily felt through his shirt. The gesture was only meant to comfort him, but it was also igniting the desire I felt for him…

  The desire I desperately needed to push aside because we were in the workplace and needed to keep things purely professional.

  Max set his own coffee down and sighed. To my surprise, he then leaned against me and placed his hand on my knee.

  The scent of his cologne growing more intoxicating by the second, I found myself placing my head on his shoulder, breathing him in. “We just have to hope for the best. The only certain thing is that if child protective services hadn’t been called, Raya would have stayed in a situation where she was sure to get hurt again. At least now, we’re giving her a chance to be safe, and taking measures to make sure things eventually get better for her family as a whole. Her dad serves our country. We owe them our help.”

  Max nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

  He turned his head toward me, and it became apparent how dangerously close we were. All I could see were his lips, and like a magnet, I was drawn in.

  The kiss was innocent at first—just a quick peck meant to console. But then it grew into something deeper. His lips cascaded onto mine and his arm encircled my waist. I wrapped an arm around his neck and let my other hand run through his silky hair.

  We were quickly getting lost into each other…

  Until the door of the on-call room swung open.

  We leapt apart, and I accidentally knocked over my tea in the process. Shit.

  Dr. Rick Coleman stepped inside, whistling a tune to himself. “Oh—there you are, Nurse Hackett! Dr. Mason was looking for you. Max, my man! How’s it going?”

  “Hey Rick,” Max said, wiping his lips and then scratching behind his ear.

  I hastily searched around for some paper-towels to wipe up my spilled tea.

  “Go ahead, Kylie. I got it,” Max said.

  I nodded, my heart racing as I retreated from the room.

  What was it about him that kept me coming back for more? I was breaking the hospital policy of no fraternizing with your superiors, but I didn’t care. He was so damn enticing, and I just couldn’t get enough.

  CHAPTER 12

  Max

  Because I so badly wanted the day to end, it naturally slugged by with excruciating slowness. I needed to be free from the hospital’s walls, free from thoughts of Raya, and free from the childhood memories I so desperately wished to leave behind.

  Not to mention, I needed to be free from the feelings Kylie kept bringing to the surface. Damn, that girl. She got me to talk about my past, while I sat there and considered slipping a hand underneath her scrubs.

  As I rounded the corner to leave the hospital, I came to a screeching halt at the sight of Kylie talking with Nurse Tyson and the intern. It sometimes seemed like the simple thought of Kylie could make her appear, as if my subconscious somehow had a way of wheeling her in. Unfortunately, now just wasn’t the time to face her again, especially since I knew Raya was undoubtedly the topic of the conversation she was partaking in. What else would Kylie have to talk to Nurse Tyson and her intern about?

  I clenched my jaw and slowly started to move backwards, hoping my presence would remain undetected. But of course, luck wasn’t on my side. Sensing me, Kylie looked up right before I’d managed to take myself out of view. Our eyes locked for a moment before I turned my back and hurried o
ff in the opposite direction, deciding to use an alternate exit. It would take me longer to get to my car, but I didn’t care.

  “Hey there, Dr. Lewis.”

  I looked toward my left and mustered a smile at Megan, a nurse I knew was friends with Kylie. “Good night, Megan. See you later,” I said.

  “Wait, Lewis—I think Kylie wanted to see you before you left.”

  I’m sure she does, I thought, and fought to keep my expression neutral. “I’m kind of in a hurry. If you see her, tell her I’ll catch her later,” I said, and then picked up my pace because I knew that speaking of Kylie would make her appear again. Some God damned magic or something.

  I burst out of the hospital doors, welcoming the cool evening air. I hadn’t realized how much those walls had been stifling me until that point. Despite the coolness of the air, there was a slight mugginess to it too, and the darkening clouds hovering overhead foretold of rain. I listened to the sounds of my shoes hitting the pavement, along with the gentle hum of distant traffic and the varying styles of music coming from the occasional cars that passed by. The noises managed to momentarily cloud my mind until I finally reached my car and hopped in. With a sigh, I cranked the engine and turned on my own radio, blasting it at full volume. It was no use though; my thoughts could no longer be silenced.

  I tore out of the parking lot and watched the hospital building grow smaller in my rearview mirror. The smaller the building appeared though, the larger Kylie’s face grew in my mind.

  Although I hadn’t disclosed much to her, I had still told her more than I could remember telling anyone in recent memory. Hell, not even just recent memory—I’d told her more than I had ever told anyone, period.

  All throughout school, classmates had been able to piece together parts of my story due to the rampant rumors that tended to snake through adolescent mouths. And although I’m sure plenty of my teachers must have known, I’d never verbally confided in anyone. Even when I entered the military, I kept my mouth shut about my past, including with my superiors. My past held too much power over me, and I never wanted anyone to have any access whatsoever to that power.

 

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