CHAPTER 47 Tanner Banks
Where the Fuck Is Cassie
I’ve been waiting a full ten minutes when Dr. Hayward walks into the exam room, and it’s fine. Most people wait longer than that at a doctor’s office, I guess, but I’ve never had to wait here before.
But Cassie isn’t behind him. Some other dude is.
“Tanner, good to see you again. How’s the knee?” Dr. Hayward asks. He starts his exam, poking and prodding at various places on my leg and checking my knee.
“Fine,” I say carefully. Where the fuck is Cassie?
I want to ask, but I don’t.
“This is Rick,” Dr. Hayward says. “He’ll be taking over your rehabilitation starting today. If you’d like to continue with your in-home care, he’s more than happy to accommodate you.”
“Hey, man,” Rick says, sticking out a hand to shake mine. He gives me a smile, and he reminds me a bit of a slick salesman. “It’s great to me—”
“Where the fuck is Cassie?” I demand, interrupting him in the middle of his sentence.
Rick clears his throat as he drops his hand, and Dr. Hayward looks surprised by my question.
“We’ve reassigned Rick to your case,” Dr. Hayward says, still poking at my leg.
“I heard you, but I’ve made excellent progress with Cassie, and I’d like to continue working with her,” I say thickly.
“Unfortunately, that’s no longer a possibility. Rick is an incredible healthcare provider, and we’re excited to work together to get you ready for the field.” He finishes his exam and takes a step back.
That’s no longer a possibility ? What the fuck happened from yesterday afternoon when Cassie left my place to this morning? Will she still come over today?
How many questions can this asshole sidestep?
I clear my throat. “What do you mean it’s no longer a possibility?”
“She’s no longer with Motion Orthopedics,” Dr. Hayward says.
“As of when?” I demand.
“Employee information is confidential. Rick is ready to get started with you, so why don’t you two work out that schedule? If you’ll excuse me, I have other patients to attend to.” He bolts from the room, and I’m just supposed to sit back and work with some other dude now? What the fuck is going on?
“If you’d like to continue in-home care, I’m happy to accommodate that. The office here will clear my schedule as needed to ensure we give you the highest level of care, and…” He goes on and on, but I started tuning him out somewhere in the middle of his words.
“Yeah,” I murmur, and I get up and walk out of the room while he’s in the middle of whatever he’s saying. I start wandering the halls. “Cassie?” I call. “Cass? ”
Rick appears behind me. “She’s not here, Mr. Banks. Now if we could get our schedule worked out—”
“I’ll be in touch,” I mutter, and I bolt from the building.
Her car isn’t in the parking lot where I spotted it when I came in less than a half hour ago.
She’s gone.
What the hell happened?
I slip into my car and pull out my phone, and I check to see if I missed a call or a text from her.
I didn’t.
I dial her number as I sit in the driver’s seat, the car not even on yet.
After six rings, I hit her voicemail box.
I leave a message. “Cass, it’s me. What’s going on? Hayward said they’re reassigning me to Rick. What the fuck? I don’t want some weasel named Rick. I want you.”
I blow out a breath as I end the call, and I sit in the car for a few beats as I try to figure out what to do. I don’t want to head home to my quiet house where there is no Cassie, and anxiety pulses through me as I try to imagine what the hell happened.
I’m only coming to one possible conclusion.
She’s not at the office. She’s not picking up my call. Someone else is going to take over my rehab.
Somehow the doctor at her office found us out. Somehow we were discovered. And somehow…she’s no longer working there, which means she’s also no longer working with me.
I don’t know what the fuck that means for my rehab, but I sure as fuck know what it means for my heart…and it’s not good.
Instead of heading toward my house, I head toward hers. I push the gas pedal to the floor of my Porsche as I take the highway to get to her place, and my tires screech as I pull into the driveway. I might not be able to run to the front door, but at least I can still drive fast.
I ring the bell and bang on her door at the same time, and I start to yell her name. “Cassie? Cass! Open the door!” I bang on the door some more, and magically, it opens.
She’s standing in front of me, tears streaking her cheeks and eyes rimmed in red. I rush in and pull her into my arms, but she stiffens.
She doesn’t reach around me to hold me back.
She doesn’t make a move to get closer to me. She doesn’t tip her chin up so I can lean down and meet her lips with mine.
Instead, she stiffens .
“What’s going on?” I demand as I pull back, recoiling like I’ve been physically struck.
“Dr. Hayward fired me,” she says. She sniffles, and the tears streaming down her face don’t slow.
“For what?” I roar.
“Unethical relationship with a patient.”
“Jesus, Cass,” I mutter, and I move to pull her into me again.
But she stops me.
She holds up a hand, and she shakes her head as she closes her eyes and presses her lips together in some attempt to stop more tears. “Us—this relationship—it just cost me my job. You cost me my job. You cost me my entire identity, everything I’ve been trying so hard to build. I fell out of a marriage and jumped into bed with you, and I haven’t had the time or space to figure out who the hell I am on my own.”
I open my mouth to say something—anything that will stop her or comfort her or keep this freight train from going completely off the rails where I already feel it going—but she keeps talking.
“I never even got the chance to figure out if I can support my kids on my own, and now I don’t know if I’ll ever get a job anywhere else. I was fired for violating the code of conduct. Rumors will hit the media because you’re famous, and I won’t be able to show my face anywhere.” Her tears start to fall harder. “I can’t do this anymore. It’s over. I never should’ve introduced you to my kids, never should have gotten involved with you. I never should’ve taken you on as a patient.” She’s shaking her head, her eyes refusing to meet mine, and all of it feels like a giant punch to the gut.
It feels far, far worse than twisting my knee and snapping some ligaments. Hell, it hurts worse than finding out Charles isn’t my real father.
This hurts my chest. It’s clawing at me, sending me into a dark place I’m not sure I’ll know how to climb out of.
She’s cutting this off just when it was getting good. She’s pulling out everything from beneath us, and she’s leaving exactly zero hope on the table that there’s any chance we’ll be able to come back from it.
“Don’t do this, Cass,” I whisper.
“I need you to go,” she says. Her voice rings out loud and clear, echoing down the hallway where we stand. “I wish you all the best with your recovery.”
“I can’t do this without you,” I say, and I hear the begging in my own voice. It doesn’t sound like me, but I guess that’s what the weight of falling in love with someone will do.
“You can,” she assures me, but her tone is less than convincing. “Please see yourself out.” She turns and runs out of the room, and I stand there for a few seconds staring after her, my stomach churning and my chest feeling as if someone just set a thousand heavy bricks on it, before I give her what she asked for.