The Doctor Who Has No Ambition (Soulless Book 9)

by Victoria Quinn

  “42A.”

  “Uh, Jason,” he said with a slight nod. “How’s he doing?”

  “He seems pretty down.”

  “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Poor guy. He’s a good dude. Doesn’t deserve it.”

  “He told me he hopes his wife comes back because he still loves her. I think he deserves better, but I didn’t tell him that.”

  He turned his head to look at the elevator doors even though they hadn’t opened yet.

  “So, you’re anti-marriage?” I hadn’t forgotten his outburst a few weeks ago. It had been such a strange thing to say, especially coming from him, a positive person.

  He turned back to me, his expression slightly hard. “Why do you say that?”

  He really had no idea? “Uh, because of what you said at the party.”

  The doors opened, and Dex stepped inside. He faced the doors and crossed his arms over his chest, saying nothing. His mood was definitely down after I asked the question, and the ride to the lobby was spent in tense silence.

  Now I regretted asking him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. None of my business.” I faced forward again, hating the fact that I might have jeopardized my closest relationship at work. I never would have asked something like that if he hadn’t mentioned it in the first place.

  The doors opened to face the exit to the street, but he didn’t step out. “I’m not anti-marriage. I think marriage is a beautiful thing for the people who are meant to have it. But not all people are meant for it—and I’m one of those people.”

  9

  Dex

  I sat at my desk beside my mom, reading the SAT book on my device that I was using to instruct Max. The kid was smart, had all the knowledge to do well, but I needed to teach him to the test. Unfortunately, the exam wasn’t a true test of knowledge, and you had to learn it like it was a whole discipline.

  Mom worked on the computer. “All of the clients are talking about Sicily.”

  I didn’t pull my eyes away from the screen. “Yeah?”

  “They all really like her.”

  “She’s pretty cool.”

  “She dragged her feet for a while, but once she jumped in headfirst, she did well. It was exactly what I expected.”

  I looked up and turned to my mother. “Yes, you’re a great judge of character…if you’re fishing for a compliment.”

  She chuckled. “I’m not. I’m just happy that I was right. Matt really likes her too. Jason told me that she’s delightful. The clients seem to enjoy her company whenever they run into her. That’s usually the hardest part, learning when to engage and when to leave them alone, but she nailed it.”

  “Has Big Bitch bothered you?”

  “Dex.” She turned her head to give me a glare.

  “What?” I asked incredulously. “He’s not a client anymore, so who cares?”

  “It’s still rude.”

  “Oh, you want to talk about rude?” I asked. “He screamed at Sicily when he knew she was brand-new. And then he went up against you… Idiot.”

  “I still don’t like calling people names. It’s not nice.”

  “If he doesn’t want to be called a bitch, he shouldn’t act like one.”

  She looked at me in the same way as she did when I was little, like she thought my behavior was funny, but she had to make the right parenting move by scolding me. “No more, alright?”

  “Alright, Boss.”

  “Thank you.” She turned back to her computer.

  “Heard from him?”

  She shook her head. “I hope that means he’s working on selling the place because his ass is gone in thirty days per his contract.”

  “I’ll throw him out for you.”

  “No,” she said with a slight smile. “I’m not letting that man go anywhere near my baby.”

  I was closing in on thirty, but she still called me that sometimes. It didn’t bother me because I knew what it was like to almost lose her, and I’d never taken her for granted again after that. My job wasn’t as respectable as my old profession, but it was nice to spend time with Mom. We got along pretty well and remained professional at work, so we didn’t butt heads.

  The phone rang on her desk, and she answered it. “Cleo.” She kept scrolling through her computer.

  I turned back to my device.

  But when Mom didn’t say anything, my eyes flicked back to her.

  She was rigid in the chair, listening intently to whatever the other person said. I could tell it was serious based on her expression, based on the way she pressed her lips tightly together and her eyes shifted back and forth quickly, like she was thinking as fast as possible. “We’ll be right there.” She slammed the phone down and jumped out of her seat.

  “Another flood?”

  “Get up, Dex.”

  I dropped my device and got to my feet, ready for whatever catastrophe had just happened.

  She opened the cabinet and reached for the first aid kit, and not the generic one with bandages and other stuff, but the serious one.

  Shit.

  She tossed it to me, and I caught it before she grabbed another one. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “There’s been an accident in Carlton’s unit. The ambulance is on the way, but we have to go now.” She moved past the desks and to the lobby.

  I just stood there, understanding exactly what was happening and what she expected from me.

  She turned back to me, like she knew I’d failed to follow her. “Dex.”

  I gripped the pack between my hands. “Mom—”

  She stared me down. “You can do this.”

  “I’m not—”

  “You will do this. I know you can do this.”

  We ran to the unit and moved through the open door.

  Sicily was already there, covered in blood, pushing her hands against his chest where he’d been shot.

  Mrs. Carlton sobbed in the background, looking at her bleeding husband on the ground, in complete shock and panic. There was a pistol on the ground beside him.

  What the fuck had happened?

  I sprang into action without thinking. “Move.” I got to my knees beside him, noticing him already turning pale from the loss of blood. He turned his head and looked at me, his eyes glossing over, so weak he couldn’t speak.

  Sicily pulled her hands away and looked at me, the terror on her face.

  “He was cleaning his gun,” Mrs. Carlton said through her tears. “I came in and startled him, and it just went off. I didn’t shoot my husband!”

  “Take her in the other room.” I opened the pack and immediately got to work. “Now.”

  Cleo grabbed Mrs. Carlton and took her into the other room.

  Sicily just sat there, breathing hard as she looked at me.

  I cut open his shirt and felt with my fingertips, finding the bullet lodged under the skin. It didn’t hit an artery, so if I could stop the bleeding, he had a chance. “Put pressure on this.”

  With bloody hands, she did as I instructed.

  I grabbed the suture kit and got to work, closing up the wound as tightly as I could to stop the bleeding before the paramedics could get there. My medical training kicked in, and I sutured him at lightning speed, getting that wound closed and decreasing the blood loss so the paramedics could give him blood when they arrived and he could make it to the hospital in time. “You can move your hands. Stay with him, alright?”

  He moaned.

  I didn’t look at Sicily. “Talk to him. Keep him awake—”

  He stopped breathing just when I got the wound closed.

  “Oh my god…” Sicily leaned back. “He’s not breathing.”

  “Motherfucker.” I turned to grab the paddles, which were charged. I hit the paddles to his chest, shocked him, and then did CPR. “Come on, Mr. Carlton. Don’t you fucking die on me.” I kept the compressions going, doing my best to get his heart to start beating again.

  Sicily just watched.

  I kept going and
going, refusing to stop until the paramedics got there.

  Then he took a breath, his eyes opening again.

  “He’s back,” Sicily said.

  The paramedics ran inside.

  “I need two units of epinephrine because he’s going to crash again.”

  The paramedic came to my side. “Who are you—”

  “I’m a doctor. Fucking do what I say!”

  The guys started to follow orders.

  “He’s going to crash again,” I said. “We need to get him into the ambulance and get the blood transfusion going. Otherwise, he won’t make it to the hospital. I slowed the bleeding with sutures, but that’s not our biggest problem right now.”

  We got him onto the stretcher, ran him down to the lobby and into the back of an ambulance. I should stay behind because it wasn’t my place, but I climbed into the back without thinking and went to the hospital.

  10

  Sicily

  Everything happened so fast that I couldn’t fully process it. One moment, I heard a gunshot, and I stupidly ran into the condo without thinking twice about my own safety. I saw Mr. Carlton on the ground and did the only thing I knew how—put pressure on the wound and called for help. His wife was in too much of a panic to do the same thing.

  Now, Cleo and I were at the hospital in the waiting room with Mrs. Carlton, keeping her calm as we waited for news of the surgery. Dex was there, but he sat on the other side of the room, his eyes on the floor with his bloodstained hands joined together.

  I didn’t ask any Cleo any questions in front of Mrs. Carlton because that would be insensitive.

  Cleo continued to keep her arm around Mrs. Carlton and rub her arm. “It’ll be alright. He got treatment quickly. There’s hope.”

  She sobbed into her tissue. “I warned him about those stupid fucking guns.”

  Cleo seemed to have it handled, so I stood up to walk to Dex.

  Cleo was on me fast. “No.”

  I turned at her command, never hearing her speak that way except when she told off Tony.

  “Leave him alone.” Her eyes told me not to defy her or ask questions.

  I sat down again and stayed quiet.

  A few minutes later, the doctor came out, wearing a white coat with a cap.

  Dex noticed too because he jogged over to listen.

  “Mrs. Carlton?” he asked, looking at the women who sobbed into tissues. “We successfully removed the bullet and took care of the internal bleeding. No major arteries or organs were seriously damaged, so he’s very lucky.” He turned to Dex and glanced at his bloody hands. “The paramedics said you were on the scene. If you hadn’t been there, Mr. Carlton wouldn’t have made it. Great work.”

  All Dex could do was stare.

  “You’re an ER physician?” the surgeon asked.

  Dex shook his head. “Heart surgeon. Dex Hamilton.”

  The surgeon’s eyes narrowed like he knew exactly who he was. “The Dex Hamilton? Renowned heart surgeon?”

  Dex looked uncomfortable at the question. He was no longer the charismatic and bubbly guy he usually was. Now, he was quiet, brooding, impossible to read. All he did was give a nod.

  “Honor to meet you.” He turned back to Mrs. Carlton. “We’re going to put him in a room. We’ll let you know when you can see him.”

  “Thank you so much,” she said through her tears. “Thank you…”

  The surgeon walked away.

  Mrs. Carlton then turned to Dex, and with no regard to the blood all over his hands and clothes, she moved into his chest and hugged him. “You saved my husband’s life… Thank you.”

  Dex just stood there like he didn’t know what to do. But after a few seconds, his arms circled her waist, and he hugged her back. “I’m glad he’s going to be okay, Mrs. Carlton.”

  Dex didn’t work for the next few days.

  After that whole episode, he deserved the time off.

  But I couldn’t hide my surprise at the whole thing. It was shocking, but at the same time, it made perfect sense.

  When the time felt right, I asked Cleo about it. “So…Dex is a heart surgeon?”

  She was working on her computer, and she released a quiet sigh before she turned to look at him. “Was.”

  “And why isn’t he anymore?” He obviously wasn’t just some anonymous doctor, but a respectable surgeon if another doctor at a random hospital knew exactly who he was. He wasn’t average.

  She chewed on her inner lips as she considered what to say. “He became overwhelmed with the situation…and needed to take a step back. He ended his practice, walked away from everything, and when he needed a job to get by…I couldn’t say no. He’s not meant to work here, he’s meant for bigger things, and I hope that his employment here is temporary. But it’s one of those things that can’t be rushed. He needs to decide when he’s ready to back to that profession…or if he’ll ever be ready.”

  “Something really bad must have happened.”

  She wouldn’t give me details, probably to protect his privacy. “A lot of things happened at once, and he just couldn’t handle it. Everyone deals with trauma differently, and this seems to be how he’s dealing with it…or avoiding it.”

  He must have lost a patient he really cared about. It was the only explanation I could think of. “Do you think this whole thing will make him go back? I mean, he saved Mr. Carlton’s life.”

  “I really hope so,” she said with a sigh. “As much as I enjoy having Dex as part of our team, he’s not supposed to be here. He’s supposed to be saving lives. He’s supposed to be making a real difference in this world.”

  I decided to Google him and see what I could find.

  Just entering his name got a lot of hits.

  He graduated from Stanford for his undergraduate degree—at eighteen. That would mean he graduated high school at something like fourteen years old. He went to Harvard for medical school and was done by nineteen. And then he went to Johns Hopkins for his surgical residency and was done in his early twenties.

  Holy shit, this guy was literally a genius. Like Einstein-level genius.

  But he didn’t act like it…at all.

  He was playful and fun, having all the social skills that weren’t typical of someone so brilliant.

  There were other articles about his work as the top heart surgeon in not just the country, but the world. He had celebrity clients, and he took on surgeries that were complicated, surgeries that other heart surgeons wouldn’t touch—and he was awesome at it. He also did ongoing research through NYU and Johns Hopkins, figuring out new technologies to help with their patients.

  And now this guy was updating computers and installing gaming consoles?

  It was such a fucking waste.

  It actually hurt me.

  Because he was a hero.

  11

  Dex

  I stayed home for the rest of the week, watching TV on the couch, working out at the gym, heading to the grocery store for things to make for dinner every night. My mom preemptively gave me the rest of the week off because she knew I needed it.

  I didn’t want everyone to question me about it. I knew the girls had no idea I was a doctor, and now that Sicily knew, the cat was out of the bag. Word traveled fast to all the clients I knew a few hours after it happened, so they would ask me questions about it too. I hoped by keeping my head down for a week, the excitement would pass and people would forget about it.

  At least, I hoped.

  No one in my family called or stopped by.

  It was like they knew I needed space.

  But I wasn’t naïve. Dad would show up at some point.

  I was on the couch in my small apartment, watching the game, when a knock sounded.

  “Here we go…” I set the beer down on the coffee table and walked to the door, opening it without even checking the peephole.

  Yep. It was him.

  He was in a gray pullover hoodie and black jeans, his muscular arms stretching the cotton of his s
weater. His jaw was covered in a short beard, like he’d decided to skip the shave for a bit, even though he hardly ever did that. He stared at me with his eyes dark, innately brooding, and stayed silent like he didn’t need to say anything.

  I stepped aside and silently ushered him inside.

  He walked into my apartment and helped himself to a seat on the couch. He helped himself to the remote sitting there and turned off the game. His arms rested on his thighs and his hands came together.

  “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I really don’t care.”

  I exhaled a breath through my nostrils, letting them flare in annoyance.

  “Sit.” He nodded to the armchair that faced him.

  This was my apartment, but my dad ran the show like it was his. But he was my dad, so I wouldn’t dare defy him. I wasn’t afraid of discipline because he’d never been that way. But I respected him so much that it didn’t matter how angry I was. I wouldn’t disrespect him or cross that line because the love was deep in my bones. So, I took a seat and stared at the floor.

  “Son.”

  I took my time before I lifted my chin and looked at him.

  He stared at me for a long time, his hands together, his look deep and intense. “I’m proud of you.”

  That was not what I expected him to say, and it hit me all the way down to my beating heart.

  “You conquered your fear. You put aside your own issues and saved someone’s life. Mr. Carlton is home now with his wife—and his family flew in to see him. That happened because of you.”

  It was too hard to look directly at him, so I shifted my gaze away. “Mom made me—”

  “She encouraged you. Everything else was you.”

  “I’ve been out of the game for a year. That was dangerous—”

  “A doctor is something that you are, not something that you have. It’s your identity. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last patient, that instinct is in etched into the surface of all your bones.”