by Jill Sanders
She walked over to the side of Brett’s bed and looked over to Dr. Rufkin. “Do you care if I assist on this one? I want to make sure he doesn’t heckle me for the rest of his life if he walks with a limp.”
Sanjay nodded as his eyes went between her and Brett. She could tell what he was thinking and at this point didn’t care. Let the man think she was involved with Brett. Maybe then he’d leave her alone and stop asking her out all the time.
“You’re going to be okay,” she said to Brett.
“Just a flesh wound,” Brett said before closing his eyes. She could tell he was in a great deal of pain. His coloring was off, and the monitor was showcasing his elevated vitals.
For the next three hours, she focused on helping Dr. Rufkin out as he patched Brett’s leg up, removing every speck of metal from his skin, bone, and muscle.
His leg looked like it had been through a shredder. She knew that he’d have months of physical therapy to deal with. Not to mention he’d be off work indefinitely. Maybe permanently.
Whatever Brett had just gone through was going to change his life forever.
When they wheeled him into recovery, she walked out and met their friends. As she thought, the waiting room was full of faces she knew.
“What’s going on?” Elle rushed forward. “How is he?”
“He’s in recovery,” she said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “We’ve removed the bullets and all the fragments. He’ll be down for a while, and we’ll need to keep him in the hospital for a few days. After that”—she met Aiden’s eyes— “he’ll need someone to watch out for him.”
“How long will he be down?” Aiden asked, concern flooding his voice.
She sighed. “I think now’s a perfect time for Brett to rethink his career,” she admitted. A tear slipped down her cheek before she realized she was crying.
Elle pulled her into her arms and held onto her.
“He’s okay. You did a wonderful job,” Elle whispered to her.
She’d never lost it at work before. Had never allowed herself to, even when she’d lost patients. This, however, was different. This was Brett. Their Brett. Her Brett.
“Can we see him?” Aiden asked.
She wiped her face clean and nodded. “One at a time. I’ll take you back. He’s probably still asleep.” She turned to go, but then stopped. “Does anyone know what happened?”
Everyone was quiet for a moment. “You…” Elle started and then shook her head. Instead of answering, she motioned to the television screen.
Brett’s face filled the set in the waiting room. Below his image, in bold letters, it read, “Local off-duty cop gets shot saving a family of three in a botched carjacking.”
She closed her eyes. “He’s a fool.”
“Yes, but he’s also a hero through and through,” Aiden said, wrapping his arms around her shoulder. “Now, show me to the idiot so I can tell him how proud I am of him.”
At half-past six in the morning, Aubrey found her in the post-op and handed her a breakfast sandwich.
“Is this…” She opened the container.
“Isaac made it special for you.” Aubrey hugged her. “You must be exhausted.”
She was, but at this point, she’d already gotten her third wind. She figured she had another two hours before she’d need to escape to the break room and shut down for a few hours. Even though she wasn’t technically on duty, she figured she’d stick around until Brett was fully awake.
“I know you don’t drink coffee, but Elle says you liked this tea.” She handed her one of the camp’s signature thermoses.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Everyone’s going to head out. I’m sure we’ll be taking turns coming back to check on him while he’s here,” Aubrey said.
She glanced towards the room where she knew Brett was recovering. Aiden was still in there with him.
“I’ll let you know if anything changes.” She hugged Aubrey again.
“Get some rest,” Aubrey said softly. “If you need anything…”
Lea nodded. “Thanks.”
She noticed the entire gang leaving, and a few minutes later she carried her sandwich and tea into Brett’s room to sit and eat there while listening to him breathing and the sound of the machines humming. He didn’t snore.
Her eyes ran over his face as he slept. If she didn’t know better, she’d believe he was just taking a nap instead of being in a medicine-induced sleep state.
Instead of eating, she sipped her tea and watched Brett’s eyelashes, willing them silently to open. For him to spring out of the bed and tell her that it was all a sick joke he was playing on her.
At some point she fell asleep, waking when Karen stepped into the room to check on Brett.
“Sorry,” Karen said softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You…” She was about to deny that she’d fallen asleep, but then realized there was no point. “It’s okay. I needed to get up anyway.” She sat up and picked up her sandwich, feeling her stomach growl. “What time is it?”
Karen glanced at her watch and answered. “Just past nine.”
“Nine?” Lea balked. She’d slept for close to two hours.
“You needed the rest,” Karen said as she moved around the room to check Brett’s vitals and change out his saline bag.
“How’s he looking?” Lea asked.
“He’s improved.” She handed her the chart, and Lea ran her eyes over his numbers. Karen was correct. Brett’s vitals were much better.
When she glanced up from the chart, she was slightly shocked to see Brett’s eyes on her.
“What’s the verdict, doc? Will I survive?” he asked, his voice slightly slurred.
She handed Karen his chart and moved over to his side to take his hands and check his pulse herself.
Before she could, he took her hand and tugged her down until she sat next to him, his good leg pressed up against her hip.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Karen slip out of the room.
“There, that’s much better.” He took her hand in his.
“Brett, I need to check—”
He hushed her. “That’s what the machines are for. Just… talk to me,” he said with a sigh.
At first, she didn’t know what to say, then she smiled.
“You’re a national hero.” she teased.
His eyes opened a little wider. “I am?”
She chuckled. “Yes, your silly face is on every news channel. The family you saved has requested to see you once you’re up to a visit.”
“Later,” he mumbled.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, worried as she watched his eyes close.
“Drugged,” he replied. “How bad did it turn out?” She was silent for a minute until his eyes opened and locked on hers. “That bad?”
“You won’t be racing against me for a while,” she teased.
He winced. “Will I be walking anytime soon?” He glanced down at his leg.
“Yes,” she said, holding him still as he tried to sit up. “With some therapy.”
He closed his eyes again, and she thought for a moment that he’d fallen back asleep.
“I’m sure that when I’m not drugged, I’ll have a different reaction,” he said. “Did someone call my parents?”
She stiffened a little, remembering how strained his relationship with his folks was. “No,” she answered. “Aiden thought… We all thought you’d want to call them yourself. But with your face being all over the news, there’s no way they don’t know what happened. Not at this point. It’s nine in the morning.”
His eyes opened and he stared up at the ceiling, then reached out his hand and took hers again. “Did someone get my cell phone?”
She nodded. “Your stuff is in the bag.” She motioned to the overbed table. Reaching over, she pulled it towards him with her free hand.
“From what I can remember, it was just my leg?” He glanced down at himself. “Everything is a little too n
umb right now. Is the rest of me in the same place?”
She smiled. “If you’re asking if you’re still a complete man, yes. The damage is confined to your upper left leg. It nicked your femur and tore a hole in your rectus femoris and vastus lateralis muscles.” Since he was giving her a look, she sighed. “Right here.” She ran a finger over her thigh to show him the area. “You’ll have problems walking and squatting or sitting down until you’ve healed and gone through therapy.”
“That’s not so bad.” He relaxed. “Like having a broken leg, I would suppose.” He shrugged.
She wanted to argue with him, but she could tell he was growing tired. When she tried to take her hand from his, he nudged her closer.
“How about another kiss? I’ve thought about kissing you since the last time.” His words were slurred. She’d heard the machine dispense another dose of meds to him a few moments ago and knew he was feeling the effects already. “Come on, Lea. Pretty Lea. What does a man have to do to get a kiss from you? Get shot?”
She smiled and leaned forward and brushed her lips over his. When she pulled back, she could tell he was fast asleep. She brushed her fingers over his face, pushed a strand of his blond hair away from his eyes, and cupped his face.
He was so pleasant to look at as he slept that she lost track of time once again. How had she overlooked the man for most of her life? Sure, when they’d been younger, he’d been a tease. Well, actually, he was still a tease.
She smiled remembering the kinds of things he teased her about. Had that been his way of flirting all along?
He had said he’d dreamed of kissing her since last time. Truth be told, she’d dreamed of kissing him too. If she was being honest with herself, it was because the first time, she’d been a little too drunk to enjoy the feeling of his mouth on hers.
The chaste kiss she’d just given him was nothing like the first, she was sure of it.
When her phone buzzed, she stood up and walked out of the room. She wasn’t able to check up on Brett again for another three hours. By then, Aiden was back, along with Brett’s parents. When she stepped into the room, she could tell instantly that tensions were high. Brett’s eyes were closed, yet she doubted he was asleep after seeing his heart rate on the monitor.
“Morning,” she said cheerfully.
“What are you doing here?” William R. Jewel Jr. asked with a scowl.
“Mr. Jewel,” Lea said without answering his question. She turned to his mother, Clara, and gave her a pleasant smile. The woman worked at the local library and, as far as Lea could remember, had been nothing but nice to her. “Mrs. Jewel, Aiden.” She nodded to her friend.
“Morning, Lea,” Aiden said. Even though there was a cheerfulness to his tone, she could see the agitation on his face.
“I said, what are you doing in here?” Mr. Jewel said a little louder. “Don’t you fucking understand English? Damn gooks.”
“Hey,” Aiden stood up. “I’ve warned you…”
“Dad.” Brett spoke firmly, getting everyone’s attention. “Get out.” He practically barked it, causing her to jump slightly at the tone of his voice. She’d never heard him raise his voice.
Lea braced for the fight she knew was coming. But Clara grabbed her husband’s arm.
“You don’t want to be late for work,” Clara said softly.
Brett’s father jerked his arm free from his wife’s hold and glared at Lea as he walked out of the room.
“I’m sorry,” Brett said softly. She could hear the pain in his tone and walked over to the side of his bed to check on him.
“It’s not your fault your father is…”
“A racist asshat?” Aiden finished.
“A bigot,” she finished smoothly, gaining a smile from Aiden.
“I’ll go see about that breakfast,” Aiden said.
“Cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke,” Brett called after Aiden. “Don’t come back if you don’t have all of those.”
Aiden chuckled and waved as he walked out of the room, leaving them alone once again.
She smiled down at Brett, knowing that he would get none of those things. Most likely his first meal would be Jell-O or pudding.
“You’ve got some pull around here,” Brett started as she checked his fresh bandages. “What does a man have to do to get some real food?”
“Not get shot,” she replied smoothly.
“Ha ha.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re a comedian, just like Aiden.”
“How are you feeling? In pain?” She looked into his blue eyes and saw the answer herself.
“No,” he lied. He was sitting up in the bed with his left leg elevated slightly. Someone, most likely Aiden, had brought him a T-shirt, which he’d thrown over the hospital gown.
She walked over to the infusion pump, but before she could give him another dose, he stopped her.
“No, please.” He took her hand. “I’d rather deal with the pain than be knocked out again. Isn’t there something else you can give me to knock the edge off?”
She took his chart and ran her eyes over his vitals. If he was willing to deal with the pain, there was nothing in here stopping her from allowing it. He wasn’t in distress; his heart rate and other vitals were good.
“I’ll get you something.” She turned only to have him tug her again until she sat on the edge of his bed, being extra careful since she was on his left side.
“I really am sorry for my father. The way he treats you and anyone else not…” He shrugged.
“White?” she offered.
“I was going to say pale-skinned, but yeah.” He sighed. “There’s no excuse for it. We’ve tried over the years to enlighten him, but…”
“Some people fear others’ differences because they’re ignorant.” She smiled. “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. Your father is as ignorant as they come. I’m one of the youngest people to receive my medical degree in the entire country. He feels threatened by me. That’s all.” She shrugged.
“Eleanor Roosevelt.” He tilted his head. “You’re a lot like her, I would think.”
She smiled. “I wasn’t aware the ex-president’s wife had been a doctor?”
He chuckled, then winced slightly. “No, you’re both strong women with more brains than the men that surround them.”
She smiled. “Flattery will get you anything,” she said with a chuckle.
He smiled. “Will it get me a cheeseburger?”
She laughed and leaned in to place another soft kiss over his lips. “It just might.”
Chapter 4
If you didn’t count the pain and the possibility of never walking normally again, things were looking up for Brett.
It had been a full week since he’d jumped in front of a bullet, so to speak, for the family of three. He hadn’t thought about it at the time. It had been instinct.
He hadn’t seen the color of their skin, the style of clothing they were wearing, or what model of car they were driving. All he’d seen was a young couple with a child under five, cowering from a bully with a gun who had wanted something that wasn’t his and was willing to kill for it.
The fact that the gunman was white and the family wasn’t hadn’t even registered to him at the time. Nor, he thought, would it have ever. But of course, the news anchors played on those key points over and over, choosing to use this story to highlight the near pandemic of racism that was spreading around the country, especially in the southern parts.
He was being played up as the all-American hero, a Captain American sort who stood up for all and any. Okay, that part was true.
Which of course led to the haters coming out of the woodwork. They started when he was still in the hospital. Lea and her team had blocked the messages. He’d only gotten wind of them after Aiden had overheard Lea dealing with one on the phone outside his room.
When he’d been well enough to move out of the hospital and into a cabin at the campgrounds so that he could be watched over by his many friends, more
calls and messages had leaked through.
But staying at the camp wasn’t even the best part. The best part was that he got to see Lea every single day. Especially now that he’d moved into the Cruiser, which was the name of the cabin Elle and the rest of the gang had forced him to live in until he was back on his feet.
The Cruiser, so named because it was one of a handful of cabins with wheelchair access, was one of the newer cabins, so he hadn’t complained.
Nor had he complained when all his meals were delivered to him along with his every wish or desire. Well, almost every.
He wanted to go swimming. A few laps in the pool would stretch out the tight muscles he had from lying in a bed twenty-four-seven.
But Dr. Lea Val was there to stop him every single time he worked up the nerve to try and make it down the pathway in the damned wheelchair he’d been given to head to the nearest pool.
She claimed that it was only a matter of days before his incisions would be healed enough to allow him to take a dip.
Until then, he’d sat back and enjoyed the hot showers or baths he could take after he’d wrapped up his leg with a trash bag like his new physical therapist had shown him to do.
Since their short visit to the hospital, his parents had come back to see him once. He’d doubted his father would after the interviews Lea had done updating the press on his condition and the one that he had done when the Hernandez family had wanted to thank him personally for saving their lives.
Not that he minded. Actually, when he’d opened his eyes that day in his hospital room, it had been the first time he’d seen his father since he’d graduated from high school.
His mother worked at Pelican Point Public Library, which he frequented a few times a month. She always asked how he was doing and was cordial like she would have been to anyone else in town.
He knew it was his father’s doing that his mother had to remain distant. After all, years of the man yelling that she babied him too much had carved the path that their relationship had taken long ago.
It was one more area where Aiden’s parents, Robin and Carl Stark, had stepped up in his life. If he ever missed having normal parents, he’d head over to Aiden’s house and get his fill. The Starks had spoiled him like he was one of their own.