Tesoro: Mayhem Makers

Chapter 7

Chapter

Seven

KATE

I inwardly cringe as the man on the television points to a map of the Dallas area and the back to back storms which are about to hit. The first will plummet the temperatures to record lows and the second will bring precipitation, most likely in the form of snow.

This news is both exciting for the kids as school has already closed for the rest of the week, and disappointing as the hospital has gone into storm condition one, which means all personnel have been recalled and told to expect to remain at the hospital until the all clear is given.

Securing my backpack over my shoulder, I survey the room to see if I forgot anything when my gaze lands on the stack of papers on the bar. My lease is up in a few months and, until my conversation with Andi a few hours ago, I’d been torn about whether to renew it or not. I’d come clean about my desire to move away, my relationship with Brady and the promise I’d made to my nona. I fully expected her to be upset, maybe accuse me of being a bad friend, however I was not prepared for the global meltdown I received. She called me a selfish bitch, demanded I never speak to her again, and then threw her drink in my face before stomping out of the restaurant. Whoever coined the phrase the truth shall set you free, was an absolute idiot.

Parking my car, I made my way through the ER entrance. Once inside, I find a group of nurses surrounding one of the assignment boards, a blonde I didn’t recognize pointing at Dr. Raymond’s name.

“This is so stupid,” she huffs. “Texas is too far south to get any real snow.”

I’d love to agree with her, but she is blind to the overall picture. While Dallas isn’t famous for large amounts of snow, it also isn’t equipped to handle the harsh conditions this storm is predicted to bring. If ice forms on power lines it could cause them to snap, cutting off power and creating a multitude of issues.

“Romano?” Dr. Raymond bellows, waving a clipboard above his head. “You’re with me.”

I inwardly cringe as I approach. Working with Dr. Raymond had been brutal since he discovered his wife’s betrayal. The hospital board overruled his decision to suspend Adam from the program, citing personal issues are to be kept outside of the hospital doors.

“I need you as my nurse tonight.” Raymond has a thorn in his side when it comes to nurses. He assumed we were all too stupid to obtain a real degree. I was excluded of course, due to my current studies. To be honest, he didn’t care for the other doctors either. He felt the only true degree came from his alma mater, Harvard. Perhaps he will return to Massachusetts and find a better wife.

“Don’t triage any bullshit cases to me. If I have to leave my office, someone better be in serious condition.”

I don't bother to acknowledge him, he doesn't really care if I’ve heard him or not. Selecting a chair in the corner, I drop my backpack to the floor. Not calling on Dr. Raymond will be more of a blessing to me than him.

“Can you believe how dead it is around here?”

My body stiffens as I slowly turn around finding one of the male nurses with his feet propped up, cell phone in hand. “Only patient we’ve got is some Karen with a splinter in his finger.”

It’s an unwritten rule in the healthcare field to never use the word dead or slow when describing the work load.

“You know that’s bad luck.” I say, the words barely leaving my lips when the trauma alarm sounds.

“See,” I point at him as I run across the room, before reading the message.

“We’ve got multiple gunshot victims five minutes out.” I allow my training to kick in as I shout to the room. “Get trauma one, two and three ready,” I point to the male nurse.

“Someone get Dr. Raymond out of his office. Get lab and radiology down here.” I call out as I round the front of the desk.

“Wait, who the hell put you in charge?” The male nurse questions from behind me.

“I did,” Dr. Raymond answers as he charges down the hall. “Get used to it, Barns. You’ll be calling her doctor soon.”

I don’t have time to be astonished as the red flashing lights nullify the five minute warning. Seconds later, the automatic doors slide open as two paramedics push a gurney inside. I recognize the first guy, John, a real flirt, but smart as hell.

“You heard Romano, let’s move people.”

Gripping the ends of my stethoscope around my neck, I take off in a run toward the paramedics.

“Thirty year old Hispanic male, shot once in the leg.”

Moving my attention to the man lying on the gurney, I scan him from head to toe, my gaze pausing twice as I notice the blood stain on his jeans, and the Roman numerals tattooed on his neck.

“You want a taste of this, puta?”

Ignoring his rudeness, “Trauma one.” I tell the paramedics, pointing to the room on the left. This man isn't the first to call me a whore, or the first member of the cartel I’ve dealt with.

“There are two more rigs coming,” John tells me as he pushes the first victim into the room.

Moving toward the door, a man steps in front of me, holding his finger into the air. “I was here before that guy, I demand to be seen.”

Snapping my head back, I look at the finger. There is the slightest amount of redness at the top and what looks like a splinter in the center.

Shrugging, I take his finger, twisting it back and forth, trying to decide the best approach.

“I want the best surgical team you…” He trails off as I slide my fingernail below the tiny sliver, applying enough pressure to push it to the surface.

“Ouch!” He shouts as the sliver of wood emerges from his skin before falling to the floor. “I will sue you and this hospital.”

“Be my guest,” I drop his hand. “ Just know, when I'm standing in front of the judge, I will make sure to tell the family of the guy you just cut off you may have been responsible for his death. Given who he is,” I glance over my shoulder at the cartel guy screaming and making threats. “His family will want to handle things, if you know what I mean.”

Moving around the man, I press the button to hold the door open as the next ambulance pulls up.

“Twenty eight year old male, multiple gunshots to the chest.” My heartbeat quickens as Charlie, one of the few paramedics I’d consider breaking my no dating rule for, rattles off information. “Vitals are steady, but he was unconscious when we arrived.”

Rounding the back of the ambulance, I wait as they pull the gurney from the rig. My breath catches as I recognize the victim as one of the men from the hotel.

“Do whatever you have to, doc.” A voice pleads from behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see it is the older man who was walking beside my gunshot victim.

Nodding, I noticed Dr. Raymond rushed toward me. “What have we here, Romano?” Relief washes over me as he pulls his stethoscope from his lab jacket.

“Multiple gunshots to the chest—” I begin, before Dr. Raymond cuts me off.

“Trauma Three!” He shouts, barking out additional orders for lab tests and x-rays. I know I should follow him, but as I take a step toward him, another ambulance pulls up, a police car following close behind.

“Not you, Kate,” Vinney emerges from the car. “This one is too dangerous.” He shakes his head as he approaches the back of the ambulance.

“I appreciate the concern, Vinney, but—” My decline of his chivalry is halted by the sound of a fight inside the ER. Several cops rushed past me as I hear the call for security.

“Gunshot to the shoulder.” Evelyn, one of my favorite paramedics, says, as she reaches for the handle of the ambulance. “Vitals are good, and the exit wound is clean. A few stitches and a tetanus shot.” She smiles as she opens the door. “But what do I know, you’re the doctor.”

I’m prepared to argue with her when the doors open revealing the man from the hotel sitting on the gurney. His clothes are covered in blood which fuels my movements as I spring into the back of the rig.

“I’m fine,” he waves me off. “The blood isn't mine.” His voice is even deeper than before, a sharper edge which stirs something inside of me.

“Can I see for myself?” I say with more courage than I possess. “Your adren?—”

Reaching up, the man rips his shirt down the middle, revealing a well-toned chest. “Fucking bullet grazed me, so you can keep your needles for Chuy.” He nods toward the hospital door.

Surveying the wound on his arm, I find he is mostly correct. “Well, you’re right about the bullet, but I’m sorry to say you could use at least a handful of stitches.”

The man huffs, but remains silent.

“My name is Kate Romano and I’d like you to come inside so I can clean this up and have?—”

“No,” he shakes his head violently. “Thank you, Kate.” The way he says my name as if testing it out makes me smile. “But I need to check on Angelo and Frankie.”

Tipping my head to the side in confusion. “Who are Angelo and Frankie?”

“Maron.” He stands to his full height. “Those lying bastards said they brought them here.”

“Hold on…” I drift off, offering a silent invitation for him to tell me his name.

“Dante.” He finally admits. “Cavaletti.” Closing his eyes and letting out a held breath.

“Do you know if Angelo was shot in the leg or chest, Dante?”

“Chest.” He answers with a slow and questioning tone, his eyes narrowed as he perused mine.

Before I can confirm for him they are here, Dante jumps to his feet, pushing past me and leaping from the ambulance. “Tell me those motherfuckers didn’t bring Chuy here too.”