Careless (An Enemies To Lovers Novel Book 3)

by Michelle Horst

  Once we’re settled in the backseat of a town car, Willow hands me an envelope.

  “This is everything I have. We’ve been looking for a way to save him, but so far every avenue we’ve followed has led us right into a brick wall.”

  I take the documents out and page through them. Only one page is of any use to me. I examine it.

  “This is dated almost nine months ago. Was this the first blood work done on him?”

  “I think so.”

  “I’m a little confused,” I murmur. “50μg/dL is treatable.”

  “The fragments are causing complications. They’ve been treating him for lead poisoning but…” she clears her throat to compose herself. “The fragments have embedded themselves in his heart.”

  I take her hand and squeeze it. The friend in me wants to hold her and assure her that everything will be fine. The doctor in me knows better.

  “Do you know where in the heart?”

  “No.” For a second her eyes light up with hope. “I’ve spoken to Dr. Barnard. He knows you’re coming. He agreed to let you look at Marcus. Leigh…” she takes a deep breath.

  I already know what she’s going to say, so I make it easier for her.

  “He’s agreeing because there’s nothing he can do for Marcus. I understand, Willow.”

  “I love him,” she whimpers, and it breaks my heart to see how much she’s hurting. “Please…”

  I’ve gotten good at controlling my emotions during my residency, but right now it’s really hard to keep a calm appearance.

  “I’ll do my best,” I whisper.

  Chapter 7

  JAXSON

  (Present Day…)

  Irony, it’s when life fucks you over. Watching your best friend die a little every day, and not being able to do anything about it, is hell.

  I’ve tried everything to find a way to save him. If only I had more time.

  Movement catches my eye and thinking that it’s Carter, I glance at the entrance to the waiting room.

  The blow of shock is so intense, I can’t breathe.

  Doc.

  She’s here.

  Our eyes meet briefly, and it’s another blow to my gut. It doesn’t look like she recognizes me.

  I’ve almost forgotten how beautiful she is.

  Her hair’s much shorter, a stylish bob which frames her face, making her look more delicate than I remember. She’s dressed in a suit. The light, blue blouse she’s wearing makes her skin look silky soft. She’s wearing glasses, and damn, they complete the sexy-as-fuck look she has going.

  The vision before me is definitely not how I remembered her.

  Now that she’s standing in front of me, I curse myself for walking away from her. At the time I thought I was doing the right thing. She needed to hate someone, and I took the fall.

  Instead, you hurt her while she was at her lowest, dumbass.

  Hurt is an understatement. I fucking took her virginity and minutes later turned my back on her.

  “I hate you for making love to me.”

  I’ll never forget those words. I told her feelings hurt then I made her feel right before I turned my back on her.

  I’ve replayed that night a million times over the past years. I thought I had dealt with the guilt, but the moment which still haunts me is the way she looked at me while I made love to her.

  Sometimes I think it’s nothing more than wishful thinking.

  Other times I’d find myself praying that the emotion I saw in her beautiful eyes was real, that she could love someone as fucked-up as me.

  She’s the only woman I’ve made love to, that I’ve kissed, and to this day I don’t regret it.

  I regret letting her push me away. I regret not fighting for her – for us.

  It’s clear the way I felt about her has not dimmed one bit.

  “Where’s Carter?” she asks to no one in particular.

  While I struggle to find my voice, Carter comes into the waiting room.

  “Hey,” Carter says as he takes hold of her arm. “I spoke to Dr. Barnard. Thanks for giving me Dr. Bokeria’s number. They’re going to have a live conference now. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  When he walks out, she quickly follows. I get up and rush after them, definitely wanting to sit in on the conference.

  Also, I’m not ready to let her out of my sight just yet.

  “Carter,” Leigh calls to him. He waits for her to catch up to him. “If Dr. Barnard allows it I’d like to sit in on the conference.”

  “I’m sure he will agree,” Carter says, and taking her elbow, he walks her to Dr. Barnard’s office.

  My eyes focus on where Carter is touching her.

  I know Carter loves Della. I know I have no right to Leigh. But fuck, I hate that he’s touching her.

  My eyes glide over her body, and I still can’t believe she’s here. I wasn’t aware that Carter had kept in contact with her. With Marcus and Willow dating, the possibility that I’d see her again has always been there.

  Now that she’s here I feel like I’ve been transported back to the past.

  When we walk into Dr. Barnard’s office, Carter introduces her.

  The two doctors immediately start to discuss Marcus, using words I’ll never understand.

  Seeing Leigh work yanks me from my thoughts and throws me into a reality where she’s a stranger. I don’t really know her.

  I have no idea what makes her smile. I don’t know what she’s done with her life since I last saw her.

  She’s a stranger.

  The nineteen-year-old girl hates me.

  Hope spreads through my chest like a wildfire.

  Could this be our ‘another lifetime’?

  As we sit around the desk and the three doctors discuss Marcus, I admit that I’m out of my league. They might as well be talking Greek.

  “I haven’t had a chance to look at Mr. Reed’s file. Where are the fragments embedded?” Leigh asks.

  Dr. Barnard hands her a file as he says, “In the left ventricle.”

  I catch the corner of Leigh’s mouth twitching as if she’s trying to suppress a smile. It makes me look closer at her facial expressions while I’m leaning forward in my chair so I don’t miss anything.

  There’s no worry on her face. She’s relaxed. She looks at the documents and holds up one of the X-rays.

  “Is this the latest CSR?”

  “Yes,” Dr. Barnard answers.

  “Dr. Baxter.” I’ve forgotten about Dr. Bokeria. “Do you still need my assistance? I have to prep for a surgery.”

  “My apologies, Doctor. I’ll call you once I’ve assessed everything.”

  “Good. Please give my regards to your father.”

  Leigh rises from the chair, still looking at the X-ray.

  “Dr. Barnard, would you mind if I consult with my senior?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Which room is the patient in?”

  She gathers all the papers and places them neatly back in the file.

  “Room 413. Let me go with you.”

  I glance at Carter, wishing he would say something. He shakes his head as he rises from his chair as well. He holds me back as they walk out of the office.

  “Now is not the time to ask questions. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my father’s heart problems, it’s that you never interfere when doctors are talking. Let them figure this out.”

  “Did you see her face? She looked calm, right?”

  Carter’s eyes lock on mine. “She’s direct, Jax. She would’ve told us already if there was nothing she could do for Marcus. I trust her. She’s going to save him.”

  I believe him. Not because he’s one of my best friends, but because it’s Leigh we’re talking about.

  I chuckle cynically as I say, “The life of the person who means the most to me lies in the palm of the girl I screwed.”

  “If I were you, I’d apologize before she gets her hands on his heart.” Carter shakes his head. “Now you u
nderstand why I said she’s off limits.”

  When we walk into Marcus’ room, Leigh is busy writing something in the file.

  “Can you let me know as soon as the results come back for these tests?”

  “Certainly,” Dr. Barnard answers. “I take it you will be staying for a couple of days?”

  They walk out together, and it stings that she didn’t even look at me.

  I’m going to have to catch her alone. I have to talk to her before she leaves. I have no idea what I’m going to say, but I can’t just let her disappear out my life again. I need to see if there’s anything still between us.

  ∞∞∞

  LEIGH

  Sitting in the dark, I watch as Marcus sleeps.

  He’s high risk. If he dies on my table, it will destroy everything I’ve worked hard to achieve over the past few years. It will destroy my credibility.

  Even if he survives the surgery the odds that he’ll survive thirty days post-operation isn’t good.

  He wakes up and looks at me for a while before he says, “No one will blame you.”

  “For what?”

  “Come on, Doc. We both know there’s no way I’m walking out of here.”

  Doc.

  Jaxson never called me that in front of Marcus. Does that mean they talked about me?

  I stand up and slowly walk to the bed. I look down at Marcus. I stare into his eyes until he lets me in.

  I see despair mixed with hope, and his strength fighting against the bleakness of his situation.

  “You have two options, Mr. Reed. You can give up and die in this bed, or you can ask to be transferred to my care.”

  A fire ignites in his eyes as he asks, “What will happen if you take me on as a patient, Dr. Baxter.”

  “You will live.”

  There are no certainties in this life. It’s something Dad has repeatedly tried to get me to believe. We’re taught not to make promises to patients. We’re trained to avoid using certainties where risk is involved.

  “I believe in facts. I will remove the fragments, and you will not die on my table. Your psychological state plays a big part in recovery. Do you want to live, Mr. Reed, or have you already given up?”

  “Of course I want to live,” he growls.

  “Good. I’ll take a chance on you if you are willing to take a chance on me.”

  “Leigh,” he whispers, clearly exhausted, “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

  “You should be released in three days. They’ve stabilized you. You need to rest, Marcus. I’m going back to California. I’ll arrange with Carter to bring you to California on the twenty-sixth.”

  I pick up my bag, and as I prepare to leave, Marcus says, “He loves you.”

  I take a deep breath and smile at Marcus.

  “Your heart is the only one I’m interested in, Mr. Reed. Have a good night’s rest.”

  As I step out of the elevator and walk towards the exit, I slip on my jacket. I decide to walk back to the hotel I’m staying at while calling Dad. It’s freezing outside, but refreshing at the same time.

  “Hi, Daddy. Did I wake you?”

  “No, I was just thinking about you. How’s your trip?”

  “It’s good. I’ll talk to you about the patient when I get home.” I smile as I continue, “I had my first solo today.”

  “You did? Sweetheart, that’s wonderful. How did it go?”

  “No complications.”

  “I’m proud of you. I wish your mother were here to see how well you’ve done. She would’ve been proud.”

  “Me too, Daddy.” I clear my throat and force a smile to my face. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Would you like to come over for dinner on Friday evening so we can celebrate?”

  “Of course. I’ll bring wine.”

  “Try to get some rest. Bye, Daddy.”

  I drop my phone back into my bag and wrap my arms around myself to ward off the cold. As I walk into the lobby of the hotel, I see Jaxson sitting in the reception area. While he’s looking at his phone, I quickly walk to the elevators. I press the button and watch as the numbers change.

  Come on.

  I suppress the urge to glance over my shoulder.

  Please. Please. Please.

  The elevator dings and I impatiently wait for a couple to exit. As I step forward, I feel a hand on my lower back.

  Shit.

  A quick glance over my shoulder confirms that the hand belongs to Jaxson. He follows me into the elevator, and I press the number for my floor.

  My eyes scan the reception area, hoping someone will come running towards the elevator, and we won’t have to ride alone.

  No one joins us and the doors slide shut.

  His hand moves to my hip and then his chest presses against my back.

  It’s been almost six years. Jaxson belongs to a time of confusion and heartache. I didn’t understand why Mom had to die. I didn’t understand what happened between Jaxson and me. I still don’t.

  What I do understand now, is that I blamed Jaxson for the pain I suffered that day. I blamed him because it was easier than admitting that I felt something more than hate for him.

  I don’t believe in the romantic kind of love fairytales teach us about. People believe they fall in love when it’s only elevated hormone levels because they like what they see.

  Hate is a strong word, and it’s one I’ve really considered when it comes to Jaxson West. I’ve settled for intensely disliking him. Asking me to forgive Jaxson, is like asking me to willingly sit through a root canal.

  I dislike him because he had no problem taking my virginity before tossing me aside. He walked away from me when I needed someone most.

  For a blinding moment, he made me believe there could be such a thing as love.

  He leans into me and presses his cheek against my hair. I hear him take a deep breath and I close my eyes.

  I haven’t had a chance to get a good look at him, but he still feels the same.

  “Hi, Doc,” he whispers. His voice is deep and rougher sounding than I remember. It still has the power to send goosebumps racing over my body.

  “Jaxson,” I say, glad when my voice sounds normal.

  The elevator stops on my floor and the second the doors open, I dart forward. I can feel him right behind me as I walk to my room. I swipe the keycard and push open the door, walking to the bar so I can get some water.

  “I’d offer you something to drink, but you won’t be staying long,” I say as I take a bottle of water from the fridge.

  “How have you been, Doc?”

  I’m angry that I’m the only one affected by this meeting. I’ve thought about Jaxson a lot over the past years. They say when you lose someone their voice is the first thing you forget.

  I can’t remember what Mom sounded like. I can’t remember her smile. Lately, I’ve been struggling to picture her face.

  That didn’t happen with Jaxson.

  I turn around and face him. He’s standing in the middle of the living room, and I can see every inch of him clearly under the fluorescent light.

  His hair is still all over the place, and it looks hot. He’s taller than I remember. The suit fits his muscled body perfectly. My eyes stop at his chest where the top two buttons of his shirt are undone. His tie hangs loosely around his neck.

  There is no smirk around his mouth as my eyes travel up.

  The same mouth kissed me.

  Our eyes meet, and it feels as if an electric bolt strikes right through my heart.

  Those eyes made me promises he had no intention of keeping.

  “Let’s skip the niceties and get to the point of why you’re here.”

  He shoves one hand in his pocket, and the other goes to his chin. I hear the bristliness of his day-old stubble as he scrubs his palm over his jaw.

  I don’t remember him being so serious. Suddenly I have a need to see if his smile still looks the same.

  “I’ve just come from seeing Marcus.” His hand drops to his side a
nd worry instantly clouds his face.

  I remember that look.

  My breathing speeds up as memories flash through me. He had that same look when he saw me standing at his front door.

  “Can you help him?” he whispers as if he’s too scared to even ask, never mind hear the answer.

  “Yes.”

  He jerks as if I slapped him, instead of giving him good news.

  His breathing speeds up, and when his eyes start to shine with unshed tears, I realize he’s overwhelmed. He stalks toward me, and before I can stop him, he yanks me to his chest. His arms lock around my body, and he lifts me off my feet. I grab hold of his shoulders with the full intention of pushing him away when he presses his face into my neck and cries.

  His body shudders against mine. I don’t have it in me to push him away. Instead, I wrap my arms around his neck and cradle his head. I give him the comfort he once gave me.

  Once he gains control over his emotions, he whispers, “I’m sorry, Doc.”

  “It’s normal to react emotionally when given good news relating to a loved one.”

  He pulls back but doesn’t let go of me. His eyes find mine, and I try to ignore the longing I see in them.

  “I’m sorry, Doc,” he repeats. “I’m sorry that I walked away.”

  I wiggle myself free from his arms and take a step away from him.

  “I’ll arrange with Carter to have Marcus brought to California. I’ll need to run more tests but the surgery should be scheduled for the thirtieth.”

  His lips curve into a smile and it’s my turn to look like I’ve been slapped.

  There’s nothing more beautiful in this world than Jaxson West smiling.

  I blink the thought away and straighten my blouse to keep from looking at him.

  “You haven’t changed,” he says. “Except for your hair. It suits you. You look beautiful, Doc.”

  Being direct has never let me down before.

  “We had sex, Jaxson. That’s all it was. Just sex. We were never in love.” I make air quotations when I say in love. “We weren’t even friends. I didn’t like you, and you didn’t like me. I’m operating on Marcus because I know I can repair the damage to his heart. I’m not doing it for you.”

  His smile widens which makes me frown.