His Target: The Downing Family Book 4

by Wild, Cassie

  “Is that…” I hesitated, cocking my head to get a better look.

  “A fence post,” Wo said with a nod. “We’re getting him prepped for the OR so we can remove it. I thought you might want to assist.”

  “Of course.” I looked back at the patient’s face. “I’m Dr. Downing, sir.” The instinctive How are you doing started to form on my tongue, but I managed not to ask. How was he even still alive? “It looks like you’re having a rough day.”

  The man, a big, burly guy who looked to be in his late forties or early fifties gave me a pained smile. “It’s not one of my best. I think my bike is fucked.” Then he grimaced. “Sorry about the language, doc.”

  “I think, under the circumstances, we can let that slide.” Despite the situation, I was oddly amused. He had a fence post in his stomach—and he was worried about his bike?

  “Dr. Wo.”

  Wo looked up. I did the same and saw one of the nurses from the operating department, Jenni, standing just outside the curtain, peering in at us. “We’re ready to take him to the OR.”

  Wo nodded and patted the man’s shoulder gently. “We’ll get you good and fixed up soon, Mr. Hausman.”

  I followed Wo out, my brain whirling. “Motorcycle accident?” I guessed.

  “I’d say.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Come on. We need to go scrub up.”

  We didn’t make it more than a few feet before a uniformed police officer appeared in front of us. “I hear you’re the doctor taking care of the biker?”

  Wo didn’t respond. He just inclined his head.

  “We need to ask him a few questions.”

  “It’s going to have to wait,” Wo said, shaking his head. “They’re taking him to prep for surgery.”

  “It will only take like five minutes,” the cop said in a testy voice.

  Wo and I both heard the squeaking wheels of the gurney, but I was the one to turn my head and watch as two nurses wheeled Hausman into the main corridor. “Would you want anybody to talk to you when you were in that condition, officer?” I asked without thinking, nodding toward the strange spectacle of two nurses very carefully guiding the gurney, the patient lying on his side while the metal, cylindrical fence post jutted out from his body like a misplaced flag pole.

  The officer blinked, lowered his head to look at his notes, then blinked again. After a few more seconds, he scratched his head through the short blond stubble of his crew cut. “I think you might have a point,” he said.

  He cut around us and walked away. He made it maybe five feet before he looked back, but the nurses had just reached the bend in the corridor, and after just a second, the man and the fence post were out of sight.

  “Come, Dr. Downing. Let’s get to work.”

  * * *

  The removal of the post wasn’t the hard part.

  The hard part was repairing all the damage that had been done. Hausman’s colon had been perforated, and I knew he was looking at several weeks in the hospital, at the minimum. He’d no doubt develop sepsis as the contents of the bowel had already seeped into his abdominal cavity.

  “I think he’ll pull through,” Wo said hours later as we wearily left the OR. We had a few minutes of downtime while he was transferred to recovery, but just a few.

  We’d already been notified that the guy’s wife had arrived, and no doubt, she was imagining the worst.

  Wo slid a look at me, one brow cocked. “Your thoughts?”

  “He’s relatively young, and other than that gaping hole you just fixed, he looks to be relatively healthy,” I said in a neutral voice. Weariness overtook me then, and my filter pretty much just stopped working. “How in the hell was he still conscious when they brought him in?”

  “He might have thought if he closed his eyes, he wouldn’t open them again,” Wo suggested with a shrug. “There’s a lot to be said for the will to survive.”

  I couldn’t imagine the will it would take to not only stay conscious under such circumstances, but to do it, and not be screaming and blubbering. I liked to think I was a relatively tough cookie in general, but I had no doubt that if I somehow ended up with a metal pole skewering me, I’d have been screaming and panicking, assuming I didn’t completely lose consciousness.

  “You did good in there,” Wo said as we stripped away gloves, gowns, the puffy caps we wore over our hair.

  Although the temperature in the OR was cool, the extra layers of protective clothing could be stifling, so it was a relief to once more just be wearing the scrubs.

  I found my white lab coat and put it on, buttoning it quickly. “Thanks, although I don’t think I really did much.”

  He grinned. “You helped close him up.”

  I rolled my eyes as I pulled my watch from the pocket of my lab coat and put it back on my wrist.

  Wo finished doing the same, then we left the prep area. “Going to talk to the wife now?”

  He nodded. “We are.”

  I grinned. It was a silly thing, maybe, but I appreciated the courtesy he showed me, one that wasn’t entirely required. I had offered only the most basic assistance, which was understandable considering the severity of the trauma. But Wo treated me like an equal.

  * * *

  It was something I was still pondering a few hours later as I changed out of my scrubs and into my street clothes.

  Everybody here treated me like I was…well, like I was a doctor. I didn’t have nurses eyeing me askance when I ordered a medication or requested they contact one of the other physicians for a consult.

  Today hadn’t been the first time one of the more experienced surgeons had pulled me into the OR. I’d already seen crazy stuff. Thanks to their desire to work with me, I’d seen everything from a fishing hook that had gotten lodged in a man’s scalp to a woman who came in complaining of ‘pain from her implants’…those implants actually turned out to be hardware-store silicone that she intentionally injected into muscles of her butt. Naturally, her body hadn’t appreciated the attempt at self-administered plastic surgery. I doubted I was the only one torn between horror and a macabre sense of amusement.

  “Heard you had an interesting case,” a familiar voice said behind me.

  I paused and looked over my shoulder to see the emergency department’s medical director eying me with amusement.

  “Interesting,” I said thoughtfully. Turning back to my locker, I grabbed the soiled scrubs and carried them over to the bin so they could be washed. “I’d have to say yes, it was definitely interesting.”

  Raisa joined me at the sink where I proceeded to wash my hands. “Wo said you handled yourself well.”

  I met her eyes in the mirror. “Glad to hear.”

  “Was he really alert when you were in there with him?” she asked, genuine curiosity on her face. “Or was Wo shitting with us?”

  “I’ll be honest,” I said, grabbing a few paper towels and drying my hands off. “I can’t decide what bothers me more. Seeing that fence post in him like he was some oversized, bizarre canape and that was the toothpick used to serve him up, or how he calmly said, ‘I think my bike is fucked.’”

  Raisa’s brows shot up.

  “Seriously, he’s skewered like an oversized shrimp, and he’s worried about his bike?” Pulling my bag out of the locker, I dug out the lotion I carried with me and smoothed a healthy amount on my hands. The soaps we used—and how often we had to use them—could be hell on a girl’s hands.

  “Well, in his defense, it sounds like the bike was pretty expensive.”

  I slanted a look at her.

  She grinned. “I popped in to check on him after Wo filled me in. His wife was in there with him and stroking and petting him, promising him they’d see about getting a new bike. He showed me pictures, like a proud grandpa.”

  * * *

  It had been a fast-paced, hectic day, and as I let myself into the house, I was debating on whether I should have a glass of wine and a bath or scrub up in the shower so I would have more time to sit down and r
ead.

  I ended up sagging against the door the moment I locked it because even the thought of showering made me think about something I’d been avoiding all day.

  Thoughts of Cormac.

  It had been a week since I’d seen him.

  I barely knew the guy, so why was I thinking about him so much?

  Why was I standing there, moping for him, instead of pouring myself a glass and toasting the day I’d had.

  I was saved from a bout of self-pity by the ringing of my phone.

  Anneke.

  “Hey!” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as glum as I suddenly felt.

  It only took a few seconds to know that even if I did sound a little off, Anneke wasn’t likely to notice.

  “Hey, back,” she said, her voice dull, listless.

  “Rough day?” I dumped my bag on the small table in the foyer, then nudged my shoes off. I decided that I’d start with a glass of wine since I was probably going to be on the phone a while.

  “The worst.” She huffed out a breath. “I tried to take a page from your book, and when that dolt Dr. Wayne tried to make me get him coffee, I told him I was there to do my residency, not be his personal barista. Then, when he slapped me down over it, I asked him to tell me the last time he got coffee for somebody, and he started yelling at me in front of everybody on the floor. It was awful.”

  My heart ached for her. “Please tell me you didn’t get in trouble.”

  “Well, not exactly…” She hesitated then finished in a rush. “Radman was there. She intervened.”

  “Ohhhh…” Dr. Lisa Radman was sometimes called Radfem behind her back by some of the staff back at Green Valley. Short for radical feminist. I personally hadn’t ever had any problems with her, but I’d seen her cutting her male counterparts down to size more than once. Her family was wealthy, and her husband’s family was beyond wealthy, and rumor had it that they donated a lot of money to Green Valley, so her position on staff was probably safe. Assuming all of that was true. “So, what happened?”

  “You can imagine. She stepped between Wayne and me and insisted we move to a break room, then all hell broke loose when Wayne told her to mind her own business. Dr. Henderson tried to cut in, and then one of the nurses called security.”

  I held my peace and went about making my way into the kitchen as I waited for the other shoe to drop.

  “When my shift was over, Henderson made me go to his office, and he proceeded to lecture me on the proper way to interact with the physicians on staff, and then he told me I should be aware that certain doctors had difficult reputations. I should avoid them before it spilled over onto me.”

  I wanted to hug her.

  “Radman can be a pain, but she’s only difficult if the other party has it coming,” I said, pissed off on my friend’s behalf.

  “I know that.” She sighed again. “It’s just been a shitty day.”

  “You want to come over and have a glass of wine? Watch a movie?” I opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle. Regardless of her answer, I wasn’t waiting to start on the wine.

  “I just want to take a bath and forget the whole day happened.”

  “Might not be a bad idea,” I told her. I put the phone on speaker and put it on the counter so I could open the bottle.

  “You’re probably right.” But she made no attempt to end the call.

  As I dug out the corkscrew, I asked, “What’s on your mind, Anneke?”

  She didn’t respond immediately. I could hear her breathing and knew she was probably weighing her words with care. “You know I’m almost done with my residency.”

  “Yes…” I poured my wine, and as I waited for her answer, I took the first sip.

  She sucked in another breath and blurted out. “Radman said she had noticed me and wanted to put in a letter of recommendation for me at Green Valley, and I don’t know what to do.”

  I detected a note of untruth in those words. I didn’t respond right away, opting for another sip of wine as I debated on what to say. Finally, I just went with my gut. “You’re not telling me everything.”

  For the longest time, she didn’t answer. Then she blurted it out. “I hate it here, Briar. I absolutely hate it. When I think about having to stay here more than a few more months, I just want to cry.” She stopped and began dragging in air so quickly I could hear it, and I started to worry.

  “Anneke…”

  “What if no place else offers me a job, Briar? I worked my ass off for this. But I’m not as bright as you are. I don’t have your connections! What if this is the best I can do?”

  “That’s enough.” I put the wine glass down and spun away from the counter. “Do you hear me? Enough. For crying out loud, Anneke! Green Valley is one of the hospitals where medical students kill to work at. Don’t ask me why, but you and I both know the competition there is fierce. And Radman thinks you’ve got what it takes. If she thinks you’re good enough, then plenty of others will undoubtedly see the same thing she does. She would never give you a pity offer. You deserved it or it wouldn’t happen.”

  She didn’t respond for so long, it started to worry me. After the silence stretched out into what felt like forever, though, she finally spoke again. “I’m scared I’m not good enough, Briar.”

  “Don’t be. I know you are.” Closing my eyes, I silently prayed that Raisa would forgive me, then suggested, “Have you thought about applying over at County? They’re always looking for people, and I’d love to work with you again.”

  “I don’t know…” But there was a thread of hope in her voice.

  We talked a little while longer. After the call ended, I sat down at the table with my glass of wine and finished it off as I wondered whether I should talk to Raisa about my friend and the possibility she might apply. Although I’d tossed the idea out there without really thinking about it, the more I considered it, the more I liked the idea.

  Anneke was smart, and she’d make a good doctor.

  I’d love to work with her again.

  And…I missed her.

  I only had a handful of people I truly considered a friend, and the medical resident was one of them.

  Cormac’s face drifted through my mind. I closed my eyes against it and shoved the heels of my hands against my face as if that alone would be enough to push him from my thoughts.

  Why did I keep thinking about him?

  We definitely weren’t friends. Not that things had been hostile between us, but we didn’t know each other.

  That didn’t keep him from intruding on my thoughts, though. And those thoughts haunted me the rest of the night too.

  Fifteen

  Cormac

  Slumped down low in the driver’s seat of the van I’d borrowed from Jerrel, I watched Briar’s front door and waited for her to emerge.

  Unless her off days rotated, she’d should be leaving any minute now to head to the hospital.

  I had her morning schedule down pretty well. Evenings weren’t as easy since she didn’t always leave the hospital at the same time.

  I’d been unobtrusively watching her for the past week. Jerrel kept hounding me about making progress, and I knew I needed to get my ass up to speed, but it had proven to be harder than I’d expected.

  I shouldn’t have slept with her.

  That had just muddied everything. I couldn’t figure it out, because I’d slept with women on the job before—sometimes, the job practically called for it. I’d never had any issues separating the sex from the job or continuing to do the job.

  Until Briar.

  Hell. That could be the motto of my life these days. Until Briar.

  Until Briar, I’d never dealt with the kind of guilt that had been haunting me from almost the moment I woke up on her couch. She’d been kind to me, kinder than I deserved. And to pay her back for her kindness—even if it had been naïvely foolish on her part—I’d gone and fucked her. Now I was expected to keep on doing exactly what I’d been hired for, and guilt kept getting in the way.r />
  Plus, I kept thinking about the girl I’d hooked up with at the bar. She probably thought I was a complete shithead, and I didn’t blame her. But that wasn’t why I kept thinking about her.

  I kept thinking about her because I’d used her to distract myself from Briar, and it hadn’t happened. I felt guilty, both for using her like that, and for being with her in the first place.

  Because of Briar.

  Shit like that never happened to me.

  Until Briar.

  I should probably just call this whole thing off and tell Jerrel there was a problem with the job and he’d need to get somebody else.

  But the thought of somebody else taking over made me see red. It wasn’t an option in my mind.

  As the minutes ticked by, I tapped out a rhythm on the steering wheel. Darting a look at the clock, I told myself they probably rotated her days off, and she wasn’t going in today.

  I reached to turn the keys.

  Just as I did, her door opened, and she came rushing out. I grinned a little at the sight of her, my dark mood lightening just a fraction. She dropped her keys, and I watched as she looked up at the sky, then stomped her foot.

  “Having one of those days, darling?” I murmured to myself. The endearment startled me, and I scowled. I didn’t look away from her though, just kept staring as she swooped down and grabbed the keys, then turned around and jabbed one of them into the lock like she wanted to murder the door.

  Her body language, the tight way she held her shoulders, all of it painted a very clear picture, answering my question better than any words could.

  Briar was having a bad day.

  * * *

  It was probably stupid.

  But later that afternoon, with a chilled coffee drink in hand, I leaned against the light post and watched for the woman who was tormenting me, body and soul. I’d seen her come out to this area before.