3. Malik #2
After we hung up, I headed upstairs to shower, but my mind was anywhere but on getting clean.
Water ran over me as I thought about Sametra, how she’d probably try to boss me around tomorrow, challenge me every time she opened those perfect lips.
I was looking forward to letting her think she was in control for a while, just to see that fire in her eyes when I reminded her who was really the fucking boss.
Most women I dated, and I’m using dating loosely, were easy, predictable, manageable, and forgettable.
Sametra was everything but that. She was going to make me put in work.
Real work. And for her I didn’t mind. I could already see the reward in the end zone.
She was going to test me in ways I hadn’t been tested.
She was going to make me sweat and keep coming back for more.
I couldn’t wait. I was persistent within means.
I was going to pursue her when the time was right, and when I did, I wasn’t going to leave anything to question.
I turned off the water, already planning tomorrow’s session. If I played my cards right, I’d figure out how to get close enough to show her exactly what she’d been missing.
Sametra Andrews was about to become my favorite challenge.
And I’d always been good at winning.
THE NEXT MORNING
I arrived at the hospital early, before the halls filled with the murmur of morning rounds and people asking too many questions.
St. Ambrose was one of the most prestigious hospitals on the West Coast, world-renowned, cutting-edge, the kind of place where surgeries made journals.
Running my own PT division here was a blessing.
I had the funding, the freedom, and the respect.
My career was everything to me. Which is exactly why I understood what my mama meant about not mixing business with personal shit.
It was also why I had rules about patients, their families, and coworkers.
But this was different. This was Sametra. Rules didn’t apply when it was forever.
I was tripping, and I knew it. That didn’t stop me from swinging by the coffee cart on the corner for two cups of coffee and some kolaches. I figured she could use something better than hospital food.
I checked Samaj’s chart first when I made it in. His vitals were stable, and pain was managed with a low dose of pain meds. He looked good to start gentle range-of-motion exercises. Sametra was ready for discharge, and I knew she would be happy about that.
But it was the note from the night nurse that caught my attention.
Patient’s mother has been in the room since 2 AM. Refused breakfast. Declined pain medication for her own injuries. May need intervention.
Of course she did. Stubborn-ass woman. I grabbed the breakfast from my desk along with their charts and headed to the elevator. I rode up silently, planning what I was going to say to her. Little mama needed to fall in line.
I found her exactly where I expected to find her, sitting beside Samaj’s bed, still in yesterday’s clothes, watching her son sleep, afraid to blink in fear that something would go wrong.
The speech I had prepared flew out the window.
Gone. Poof. She was a mom first, patient second, and fine as hell on both counts.
Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail on top of her head.
Even exhausted and wrinkled, she was something to look at.
“Morning, LT,” I said quietly, not wanting to wake Samaj.
Her body stilled when she heard my voice. She looked up, and I could see the exhaustion weighing on her. Guilt and love had kept her awake all night. But there was something else when she saw me, I’d call it relief. She’d been waiting for me to show up.
“How long you been here?”
“A while.” She straightened in the chair, trying to look more composed than she felt. “Is he ready to start? The PT?”
“Soon. But first, we need to talk about you. You hardheaded, ain’t you?”
“I’m fine. Look at me,” she replied tossing her arms up like that proved anything to me.
There it was. That word again. I almost smiled, but I didn’t. I looked at her for a long moment until she turned her head away. That’s what I thought.
“And why didn’t we eat breakfast?”
“I told that snitching-ass nurse I don’t eat breakfast food for breakfast. I said if they brought me an Italian sub and loaded potato from McAlister’s, I’d eat. Simple. Funky breath heffa.”
I had to choke back a laugh because that was the craziest shit I’d ever heard but nodded for her to keep explaining. Her eyebrows were scrunched up, and I could tell she was about to try some reverse psychology on me. I was gonna let her. Happy wife. Happy life.
“And that pain medication is too strong. I don’t like it. I’m pretty sure my mom left me because she was a crackhead, so I need to be careful with that stuff.”
Damn. That explained a lot.
I sat down and rolled my chair closer to her, positioning myself so I could see both mother and son. Close enough that she couldn’t ignore me, far enough that I wasn’t crowding her. Yet.
“I’ve done a lot of stuff in my life but being a crackhead ain’t one of them and I’m not tryna start.”
“Woman, you crazy as hell. Shit, my bad. I shouldn’t be cussing, but damn.” Sametra made me drop my guard and do things I wouldn’t normally do, but I hadn’t had a laugh like that in a while.
“That was a lot, my bad. Uhm, I know I’m supposed to be in bed blah, blah, blah, but I wanted to know if you were being honest with me or just saying stuff to calm me down yesterday.”
“So, you’re telling me you’ve been sitting here all night, in pain, hungry, and stubborn as hell because you wanted to make sure I wasn’t lying to you yesterday?”
“Pretty much.” She shrugged like it was no big deal.
“Sametra.” I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees, studying her face.
“I don’t lie to my patients or their families.
When I tell you something about your son’s condition, that’s a fact.
You won’t receive any feel good bullshit from me.
We can’t make progress without honesty. Secondly, I need you to check my record. I’m no slouch out here. I got him.”
She studied my face, and I saw something shift in her expression. Good. I was getting through.
“My job is to help your son heal. But I can’t do that effectively if his mama runs herself into the ground trying to be superwoman.” I kept my voice gentle but firm. “We talked about this.”
“I know, and I’ll do better, but I needed to be here. I already missed eighteen hours.”
“Okay, I’ll let you have this one. But from here on out, you gotta promise to eat, take your medicine, and not let him see you thinking the worst. It’s gonna be a problem between me and you if you don’t. You gotta trust me. And then he will follow.”
She tried to look away, but I caught her chin, turning her face back to me. She swallowed hard, and I felt that same electricity from yesterday.
“Will you trust me?”
“Okay, I…”
“Don’t make me be forceful with you.” My voice dropped lower than I meant it to as I cut her off. She swallowed again, and I felt that shit everywhere, like lava coursing through me. I grinned. She was lowering her walls each time she saw me.
Before she could respond, Samaj stirred, eyes fluttering open. I pulled my hand back but kept my eyes on her. She was already driving me crazy. And we hadn’t even started real work yet.
“Ma? You stayed all night?”
“Just wanted to make sure you were okay, baby.”
Samaj’s gaze moved to me, then back to his mother. I shrugged he knew his mama.
“We’re gonna start slow today. See how your body responds. Your mama’s gonna be here to support you, but she’s also gonna take care of herself. Ain’t that right, LT?”
The way I said it wasn’t a request. And the look Sametra gave me said she understood exactly what I was really saying. My plan to let her run the show for a while flew out the window when I realized she’d gone back on our agreement about letting the guilt go.
“Right,” she said quietly.
And despite everything, I found myself looking forward to every damn session. Every small victory. Every chance to watch Sametra attempt to boss me around and fail. Every opportunity to remind her that I wasn’t going anywhere, whether she liked it or not.
The thing about Sametra was that she thought she had everything figured out.
Thought she could control this whole situation like she controlled everything else in her life.
What she didn’t know yet was that I’d been dealing with strong-willed women my whole life.
My mama raised me, trained me, and prepared me for exactly this type of challenge.
Sametra Andrews was a challenge I was ready to take on.
She could fight me all she wanted. Push back, test my limits, try to intimidate me with that Lieutenant Andrews bullshit.
I was here for all of it. Because underneath all that armor, she was just a girl who wanted what every strong woman deserved, to be chosen, pursued, thought of, touched gently, chased a little, and loved on without having to ask for it.
I was exactly the type of man who could handle that.
Even if it meant putting my own heart at risk in the process. Because if she kept letting me in like this, she’d never get rid of me. And I was cool with that.
“Maj, I’ll be back later to get started,” I said, giving him a fist bump.
I headed for the door, but I could feel her following me. When I stopped at the elevator, she bumped right into my back.
“What?” I asked, turning to look down at her. Damn, she was short. I ran my tongue over my teeth, trying not to smile.
“Are you going to give me my coffee and breakfast?” she asked, eyeing the bag in my hand with that bashful look that was doing things to me.
“How you know this is for you?”
“Because you’ve been carrying it around like you’re waiting for the right moment to hand it to me.”
I handed her the bag, our fingers brushing when she took it. “Kolaches and coffee. The good kind. But you don’t eat breakfast food, so I maybe pass it on to Maj.”
“You didn’t have to. I appreciate this, and because of that, I’m going to eat it.”
“I wanted to.” I stepped closer. “Besides, can’t have my favorite patient passing out from hunger.”
“Your favorite patient huh? You are something else you know that? You about to have these nurses sending me hate mail.”
The elevator dinged, and I stepped inside. “Eat, LT. Doctor’s orders.”
The doors started to close, but I caught her smile just before they shut completely.
The rest of my shift was trash. Three more patients who weren’t her, paperwork that felt pointless, and an unnecessarily long staff meeting.
Every time somebody said something, I was thinking about room 411.
About the way she looked at me when our fingers touched.
About that smile she tried to hide but couldn’t.
A few hours later, I headed back for Samaj’s session, silently praying she’d still be there. When I walked into his room and it was just him, I was disappointed as hell. But maybe some one- on-one time with the kid was what I needed. He was who I should’ve been focusing on anyway.
“Alright, Maj, let’s see what we’re working with,” I said, helping him shift to the edge of the bed. “Just small movements today. Your body’s been through hell.”
“You didn’t bring me breakfast,” he said with a sly smirk.
“Minding your mama’s business, huh?”
“A little. She didn’t want to leave. My granddad had to make her go home and shower. She’ll probably be back later, she don’t care about visiting hours.”
“Sounds about right. It’s just you two?”
“Yeah, she’s single, if that’s what you meant to ask,” he laughed as we worked through easy stretches.
“Good looking out,” I laughed back.
For the next thirty minutes, I watched him push through pain that would’ve had grown men crying. The same fire Sametra possessed was the fire he possessed.
“You did good today,” I told him as we finished. “Keep trusting yourself, and I think you’ll be fine. Plus, I kinda promised your moms.”
“Deal.”
“Aye tell her I’ll make sure the nurses don’t bother her about visiting hours. She can come and stay as she pleases.”
“She’ll appreciate that. She been texting me nonstop since she’s been home.”
I gave Samaj a pat on his good shoulder before heading out to end my day. In the elevator, I pulled out my phone, going against my better judgment. I was doing too much, but I didn’t care.
Baby had to eat.
“Yeah, this is Dr. Holloway. I need dinner delivered to 1247 Oakwood Drive...Room 315…Italian sub from McAlister’s, loaded potato, and make sure it’s still warm... Tonight around seven. Put it on my card.”
I paused. “And add a note: ‘Doctor’s orders. - MH’”
I thanked Elite Deliveries before hanging up. She’d probably roll her eyes, but she’d eat. And she’d think about me while she did it. If I could infiltrate her mind, I could get in her heart. That’s where I needed to be.