by Wild, Cassie
His Target
The Downing Family Book 4
Cassie Wild
Belmonte Publishing, LLC
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 Belmonte Publishing LLC
Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC
Contents
Reading Order
Free Prequel
1. Briar
2. Cormac
3. Briar
4. Cormac
5. Briar
6. Cormac
7. Briar
8. Briar
9. Cormac
10. Briar
11. Cormac
12. Briar
13. Cormac
14. Briar
15. Cormac
16. Briar
17. Briar
18. Cormac
19. Briar
20. Briar
21. Cormac
22. Briar
23. Cormac
24. Briar
25. Briar
26. Cormac
27. Briar
28. Cormac
Free Prequel
About the Author
Reading Order
Thank you so much for reading His Target, the fourth book in the Downing Family series. Don’t miss the other books in the series.
1. The Escape
2. The Debt
3. The Punishment
4. His Target
Free Prequel
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One
Briar
“Honey, can you get me some coffee?”
The honey annoyed me, but the sight of a coffee cup being thrust in front of me flat-out pissed me off. I stared at it for a beat before shifting my gaze up to the older man standing just to my side.
Honey.
I nudged the cup back over to him and gave him a brilliant smile as I pulled my stethoscope from the oversized pocket of my doctor’s coat. While there were others in the medical field who wore lab coats, it was generally safe to assume that if somebody stood at the nurses’ station in a knee-length lab coat, that person was likely a doctor.
Unless, of course, that person was a female. I could wear a copy of my medical license around my neck, and I’d still have people assume I was a nurse. I refused to even get into how annoying it was that some doctors thought a nurse’s job was to play fetch for them, either.
But I definitely wasn’t going to let this asshat use me as his gopher.
“I’m sorry, doctor. But I have to make my rounds. There’s coffee in the doctor’s lounge, but I have to warn you…it’s pretty strong.” I showed off a smile displaying teeth so straight my dentist had wanted to use me as the before and after models showcasing the benefits of braces. Then I turned to Sarah, the charge nurse for this shift. “Are you ready, Sarah?”
“Absolutely, Dr. Downing.” The corners of her lips quivered like she was trying not to smile. She nodded at the other doctor and said, “I’ll be with you shortly, Dr. Wayne.” She waited until we were halfway down the hall before flashing me an amused grin. “You need to come to my floor more often, Dr. Downing. Maybe he’ll finally stop seeing women as coffee-fetchers.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not likely.” I didn’t know Dr. Wayne—this was the first time we’d ever encountered each other—but I knew too many others with an attitude like the one he’d just showcased.
Get me some coffee, honey…
If I was prone to grinding my teeth, all thirty-two of mine would be worn to nubs at this point in my career. I’d been called honey, sweetheart, and sugar by so many of my supposed peers, it was pathetic.
And I was just starting out in the medical field too.
I knew I wasn’t the only female doctor to put up with this shit. Several of my professors in medical school had been female, and I’d met quite a few during my internship as well. I had witnessed a number of them get referred to as honey or sugar while we were in the clinical setting. The assumption that any female in the medical setting was a nurse was rampant, especially among older male physicians.
I had all the respect in the world for nurses. A good one made my job so much easier, and an incompetent one could be far more than just a pain in the ass. Many of the nurses I’d met at Green Valley Medical Center were probably more competent than some of the doctors I worked with. But it was annoying as hell for somebody to assume that I was a nurse all because I had long hair and boobs.
“You’re probably right. He’s one of the worst. He’s tried to get me in trouble with the nursing director more times than I can count. All because I won’t fetch him coffee and have redirected him when he tries to use my floor nurses for the same thing. Sexist old prick.” She checked her chart as we came to a stop outside one of my patients’ rooms. “Quiet night here. Some pain meds were given just before four.”
The words were delivered in a low voice as we stood just outside the door.
Twenty-year-old Natasha Stokes had presented in the ED with severe stomach pain, rebound tenderness, and uncontrolled vomiting. It hadn’t taken long to diagnose her with severe appendicitis, and we’d had her in surgery within two hours of her arrival.
It was a good thing she hadn’t waited much longer to come in because the appendix had been on the verge of rupturing, a complication nobody—neither doctor nor patient—wanted.
“How did Ms. Stokes sleep?” I asked Sarah as I opened the nurse’s notes from the previous shift.
“Once she got up here, she seemed to do fine. She’s got something of an appetite this morning, so that’s good news.”
I checked my watch out of habit. It was coming up on eight o’clock, which meant she was able to take another dose. As if on cue, the light over the door came on.
Sarah knocked on the door, and we stepped inside. “Hello, Ms. Stokes,” Sarah said in a cheerful voice. As she moved to turn off the call light, she gave the patient her full attention. “What can I do for you?”
Natasha gave her a wan smile as she shifted uneasily on the bed. “I was wondering if I could get something for the pain. I’m starting to hurt again.”
“I’ll let your nurse know.” Sarah smiled at the other woman and jotted something down on the notepad she carried everywhere.
As Sarah moved to check the patient’s breakfast tray, I stepped over to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling today, Ms. Stokes?”
“Natasha…please.” She made a face, then offered a deprecating smile. “A lot better than I did last night. I wish I would have come here in the first place instead of going to urgent care.”
I frowned and checked my notes from the past night. As I skimmed them over, I asked, “When did you go to urgent care?”
“The day before…what’s today? Monday?” At my nod, she continued, “It would have been Saturday then. I was trying to hold off until today when I could get in to see my regular doctor, but the later it got, the more I hurt.”
There was nothing in the notes mentioning that she’d gone to an urgent care center. It wasn’t uncommon to miss getting details like that while getting a patient history, especially in a case like Natasha’s. I asked her the name of the urgent care and made a note so Sarah could take care of obtaining the records. “What did the doctor at urgent care say?”
She looked away, smoothing at the blanket over
her upper thighs. A dull flush settled over her cheeks, but she didn’t say anything.
I moved closer. “Natasha?”
“He told me it was probably another ovarian cyst,” she said, shifting her attention to the window. “I’ve had problems with them before. A lot. I told him I knew what cysts felt like and that this was something different. But he just told me to take some ibuprofen and make an appointment with my ob/gyn once the offices opened.”
I kept my irritation hidden behind an understanding smile. “Well, it definitely wasn’t a cyst, was it? Good job on following your own instincts.”
We spoke for a few more minutes before Sarah and I left for the next patient on her floor.
Larry Stinson had been climbing a ladder in his front yard to hang up Halloween decorations when he lost his footing and fell. The break was an ugly one, and the swelling had the orthopedic on-call electing to delay surgery. They wanted to treat Larry with steroids in an attempt to alleviate the swelling before getting him on the table.
I stepped into the room, a smile plastered firmly in place.
Larry caught sight of me almost immediately, and his round, fleshy face reddened. “How much longer is it going to take these incompetents to get me into surgery? I have important meetings this week and don’t have time to wait around for this bullshit.”
“You’ll have to speak with Dr. Kensington, Mr. Stinson. Dr. Kensington is the orthopedic surgeon in charge of your case.”
Larry glared at me. “Then where in the hell is he?”
“She is in the hospital attending her rounds. If she hasn’t been in here yet, I imagine she’ll be by soon.”
His face scrunched up into an angry mask. “She? A man doctor saw me in the ER.”
“That was one of the emergency room nurses.” I checked the notes more out of a need to rest my face from the overly plastic smile than out of any real need to refresh myself with his case.
“Dr. Kensington.” He scrunched up his face even more. “Wait a minute. That little bit of a thing that came in after they took all that blood? That was the doctor? She doesn’t even look old enough to drink!”
Dr. Kensington did look young, even younger than me, and I was twenty-five. In fact, she was actually thirty-three and already considered to be one of the best in her field in our area. “I assure you, Mr. Stinson. Dr. Kensington is quite competent.”
He was still grumbling when we left.
Fortunately, he was the only pain in the ass I had to deal with on my rounds.
I was able to finish up a bit earlier than expected and stopped by the cafeteria to get some coffee. The stuff they had in the doctor’s lounge truly was strong. In my opinion, it was strong enough to get up and walk on its own. While I might have needed the caffeine punch during medical school and in my residency, now that I was working a somewhat reasonable schedule, I preferred to have something that didn’t eat away at the lining of my stomach.
Of course, the keyword was somewhat.
I was down to work an extra shift today due to a staffing shortage. As one of the newest doctors on staff at Green Valley—and the youngest—I ended up with a lot of crap shifts. I was determined to take it in stride. Everybody had to earn their stripes, and crappy shifts were part of that process.
After getting my coffee, I decided to head to the doctor’s lounge and sit for a few minutes. My feet were killing me after spending most of the night on them, and I wanted a break.
I pushed open the door, and the sound of a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks.
Dr. Ted Henderson had a distinctive voice. I’d heard it far too often, in my opinion. He was the medical director of the emergency department, and the two of us did not get along. He was sexist and racist and a general, all-around pig. He was the kind of doctor who got along great with asses like Dr. Wayne.
I almost turned around to leave, but another voice stopped me in my tracks.
Speak of the devil. I’d almost bet money that was Dr. Wayne talking to Henderson. Instead of leaving, I leaned against the wall of the narrow entryway, out of their sight, and listened.
I wasn’t being nosy.
Wayne had just said my name.
“I’ll be honest, Ted. That new trauma surgeon of yours is one hell of a looker, but she’s got an attitude,” Wayne said, his voice dry. “All I wanted was a fucking cup of coffee, and she turned that pretty nose of hers up and walked away.”
I clenched my jaw.
“Calvin, Downing has been a pain in my ass since the day I came on here. She’s only been licensed for a few months, but she’s got a stick up her ass, let me tell you. I hear she comes from big money. I guess she thinks that means her shit don’t stink, and she doesn’t make any attempt to get along with her fellow doctors.”
Anger vibrated in me, about to flood my vision with rage. My face overheated, and I realized I’d squeezed my cup so tightly, the lid had popped off. If I hadn’t splashed some of the hot coffee onto my hand, I wouldn’t have noticed, either.
I took a slow, careful breath as Henderson continued to smear my name. “You should probably be careful around her. She’s one of those prissy broads who think if you’re not kissing her ass, you’re sexually harassing her. One of the patients—a fucking patient—complimented his nurse, and she lit into him like he’d killed a puppy!”
That did it.
I stepped out from behind the wall.
The conversation stopped.
Wayne and Henderson weren’t the only people in the lounge. One of the others, a doctor I’d met during my residency here, saw me and looked away, his face flushing red.
I wanted to not be angry with him. He wasn’t the one talking about me like that. But he had stayed quiet too. Whenever people in his position stayed quiet, it let the others get off scot-free.
But that wasn’t happening this time.
“So, let me get this straight. When a fucking patient grabs his nurse’s ass, he’s just paying her a compliment,” I said in a neutral tone. “When I opt to not fetch and carry coffee for a fellow doctor, I’m the problem. When I expect to be treated the same as the male doctors on staff, I’m being a prissy bitch.”
Wayne’s face went an ugly shade of red. Henderson opened his mouth.
I cut him off. “And for the record, the words you really want are gender discrimination, not sexual harassment.” I gave him a cool smile. “Trust me. If I’m the victim of sexual harassment, I’ll make very certain that the person delivering the harassment understands the difference.”
“Briar—”
“It’s Dr. Downing,” I bit off. “Briar is what my friends and equals call me. You’re clearly not my friend, and you sure as hell don’t treat me as an equal. So do not use my first name.”
As I watched, Henderson’s face was turning the ugly color of a ripe plum. “Now, you listen here—”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t.” I made a big show of checking my watch. “I have to get on the floor. I’m working a double, you know. As insisted by the medical director.”
I turned on my heel and stormed out of the lounge. I was all but shaking with anger, so I made a sharp turn and headed into the nearest restroom. Dumping my coffee down the sink, I tried not to look at my reflection in the mirror.
In the end, though, I did.
I saw a young woman with shortish brown hair, the soft curls framing her face. That face was red with a mix of indignation and humiliation, and as I watched, her light blue eyes glimmered with a sheen of angry tears.
I threw the cup away and pressed the tips of my fingers to my eyes. In the quiet of the restroom, I whispered to myself, “Damn it.”
* * *
I’d made friends with one of the surgical residents who was on her rotation through the emergency department. Anneke Tate was my age, although I’d already finished my residency.
Sometimes it was easy to forget that not everybody graduated high school at the age of fourteen and started in on medical school after finishing colle
ge at sixteen. By the time I was through with medical school, I’d been just nineteen.
I was used to being the odd one out, but it was still a little lonely to have so many of my peers keep a distance from me.
Anneke and I had clicked right away. She didn’t have any issue with my ‘big brain’ as she called it, and we’d spent more than a few nights giggling to each other on the phone.
The two of us sat outside eating our lunch. I’d spent the morning trying not to think about the incident with Wayne and Henderson, although I hadn’t entirely succeeded. Henderson had shot me more than a few dirty looks as we passed each other in the ED, but I’d pretended not to see him.
I wasn’t doing as good a job pretending everything was okay, though.
Anneke had noticed.
“You going to tell me what’s wrong?” she asked softly.
I made a face at her. “Henderson. Apparently, when I told that patient he wasn’t entitled to grab his nurse’s ass, he saw it as me attacking the patient.” I huffed out a breath as I reached for my drink.
“He told you that?” she asked, aghast.
“Not me. He told another doctor that.” I rolled my eyes and told her the whole, frustrating story. “I’m thinking about filing a complaint.”
She gave me a suddenly guarded look. “I don’t know if it will do any good.”
I frowned at her.
“It should,” she said, her voice tight. “But…well, I know Wayne is friends with the CEO of the hospital. It’s how he got this job.”