Chapter 10
10
Cassidy
I bite my bottom lip to hide my grin as some girl who has no boundaries purrs at Tanner. He gently grabs her wrist and removes it from his chest as she tries to lean against him. He’s looking really uncomfortable, especially when she tries to run her fingers through his cropped dark blonde hair.
The stupid thing is that she’s not even on any pain medication to make her loopy, so this is all her. She liked what she saw when he was walking past the nurse’s station, giving the charge nurse his notes on a patient, and the woman stepped into his path. The charge nurse, Clara, and I are watching with eager gazes, wondering how fast this woman will run once she finds out he’s a physician’s assistant and not a doctor.
She screams "gold digger" and that daddy is done paying for her. The fact that she’s here instead of being under the care of her surgeon, who did her original surgery, is kind of proof of that.
I grin wide when Tanner squirms. I’ve never seen a six-foot man look so uncomfortable. His light blue eyes come my way briefly, and he narrows them when I grin wider at him before he steps back from the almost-busty blonde when she touches his face, causing Clara to snort.
The woman goes to rub herself on his chest but forgets she’s popped one of her silicon breasts—the reason why she’s here in the first place—and falls into him. I have to cough to cover my giggle, but Tanner catches it as he glares at me. But before he can use me as an excuse to get her away from him—something he always does even though I have the wrong genitals—Dr. Carmichael rushes into the E.R and shouts, “Incoming trauma, CPR given on scene and en-route. Cassidy, with me, you are taking point!”
Clara rushes to the cloves and aprons, and I’m right behind as I quickly take them and glove up. Tanner comes up behind me and ties my apron for me, whispering, "You’ve got this.” And I nod then rush out, following several other doctors and nurses.
When the ambulance stops and the doors open, everyone tries to get involved, but Dr. Carmichael pushes them away as the paramedic states, “Natalie Mathews, MVA, not wearing a seatbelt. She was dragged out of the car and then thrown over Brooklyn Bridge. CPR was in progress upon arrival. She flatlined. Shocked twice, and she flatlined again en-route….”
I quickly grab the chart from the paramedic, not actually hearing the patient's name. “Okay, let’s get her to trauma one. Does anyone know the family?”
I run after them until someone says loudly, “I’m her husband," and, instantly, I recognize the voice. I look sharply at Piston and our eyes lock, his gaze shocked at seeing me.
“Piston?” I question in shock before the patient’s name rings a bell, his words echoing, and I turn to trauma bay one with my heart in my throat.
No, no, no, no….
I look back at a man I saw as a brother who chokes out, “Save my wife, Cass, please. I-I can’t lose her….”
Oh, please, no.
He’s finally claimed his love, but now….
My eyes tear up, but I nod and promise, “I’ll do everything I can.” Then I turn and head into the chaos.
Dr. Carmichael makes eye contact with me, and I know he can see my emotions because I’ve treated Natalie before, the night she lost her baby….
“Cassidy, please, no, please, I can’t have lost it,” Natalie sobs as she grips my white coat, and I hold her close to me, allowing my tears to fall with hers as her body shakes against mine….
I sniffle and give Dr. Carmichael a nod so he knows I have this just as the nurse shouts, “She’s flatlined again!”
Shit! I suck in a breath and quickly round the bed as they start CPR, preparing to intubate.
“Come on, Nat, don’t give up…” I mumble as I look at the screen when they shock her.
“She’s back,” I state, grabbing the laryngoscope on the tray beside me. Tilting her head back, I quickly but carefully guide the laryngoscope into her mouth with ease, and then take the endotracheal tube from Tanner, and guide it down her throat, watching closely. “Got it….” Then, I remove the scope before taping the tube down and looking at the monitor.
“SATs look good. What’s next, Dr. Brody?” Dr. Carmichael asks, and I snap into doctor mode; instead of my friend on the table, I see her as any other patient. “She needs a head CT and an MRI, but first, we need to place heating blankets around her to bring her temp up, and run her blood to ensure there’s no possible pregnancy.”
God, I hope there isn’t. Natalie can’t lose another baby….
Dr. Carmichael gazes at me with pride, and we get to work, knowing Nat will most likely have internal bleeding.
Twenty minutes later, I rush into the waiting room with Nat’s property cut in hand, knowing she is being prepared for the OR, my first solo surgery, something I tried to decline, but Dr. Carmichael wouldn’t allow it.
Every eye comes my way, but mine lock on Piston’s pain-filled dark green eyes and, with a lump in my throat, I pass Acid Nat’s cut. I ignore Steal, who’s looking at me like he’s seen a ghost, and run to Piston, kneeling before him.
His eyes tear up, and my heart breaks as I whisper, “Piston,” and grab his hands.
He sniffs hard. “Just tell me, Cass.”
I squeeze his hands and admit, “She has a concussion and internal bleeding. Thankfully, there are no broken bones, which is a miracle, but we do need to remove her spleen. We need to operate….”
He nods. “Then do it, Cass. Save my wife.”
I swallow hard, trying not to cry like a baby, and squeeze his hands tighter, before I blow up his world. “Piston, Natalie when we were assessing her, we ran her blood…she’s pregnant….” His eyes widen in shock, and I continue, “Three years ago, during my residency, I was the doctor on shift when Honey brought her in. There is a high chance she may miscarry again, especially during surgery.”
And it will destroy her. It took both Honey, her then best friend, and I to hold her up.
“Fuck,” he croaks as he drops his head. Right now, I’d give anything to take his pain away.
He’s been through so much, they both have, and they deserve happiness.
I squeeze his hands, causing him to look at me. I state, “She’s roughly five weeks, and I’ll do everything in my power to save both of them, but, Elijah,” he sucks in a big breath when I use his given name, knowing I mean business, “she was without oxygen for a long time; she was revived three times. Even if she survives the surgery, even if the baby does, she may never wake up. I need to warn you of that….”
He squeezes his eyes tight, and I stand, wrapping my arms around his head, trying to give him some strength. “I’ll do everything I can, I swear it….” Then, I kiss his head and walk out of the room, feeling Steals' eyes on my back.
Hours later, I sigh as I lean against the lockers in the staff room, Tanner watching me like a hawk.
“I’m alright,” I tell him, but he shakes his head.
“No, you are not. Your sister slapped you, something I am still in shock about. I mean, I know it was hard for her when you walked into that room, but to slap you.... Damn. And your ex, the father of your child, is hanging around the hospital like a bad smell, and let's not forget you’ve just had to operate, your first solo at that, on your friend who may not wake up, who might lose her baby….”
“Okay, today has sucked,” I choke out, and he nods, taking me into his arms.
Meeting Tanner in med school and having him on my side was the best thing to ever happen to me. I honestly don’t know where I’d be without him.
“Right, your leather clad biker is still on hospital grounds, and I know you want to go see your sister. So why don’t I grab Mo-Mo and take her back to yours, and you go see your sister.” I open my mouth to refuse, because I don’t get enough time with my daughter as it is, but he continues, “I know you don’t like to miss your evenings with her, but I think you need to do this, sweetie….”
I sigh but nod and squeeze him tighter before reluctantly removing myself from his embrace and grabbing my bag.
I take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders, and walk out.
I quickly pass Natalie’s room, popping my head in, not noticing the man guarding her door. I see Piston asleep, his head on her bed, his hand in hers, and my heart softens.
“He’s finally opened his eyes and realized he loves his wife,” a voice says from beside me and I smile a little, recognizing it.
I shut the door and look to my left, locking eyes with Anchor's dark brown ones. He looks me over before he says, “You are a sight for sore eyes, Cassy.”
My eyes tear up, and I admit, “I haven’t been called that in years….”
He nods and murmurs, “I’ll bet,” before he pulls me into his hold. I go willingly, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Fuck, you’ve been missed, sweetheart,” he rasps, and I nod before pulling back, and his eyes racing between mine.
“He tried to rape you, didn’t he?” he inquires, and I look down, not willing to admit it. “Cassy!” he snaps, and I look at him and shrug.
“It doesn’t matter anymore, Anchor. Steal made his decision.”
Anchor sighs. “And did it not occur to you he did that to ensure the older generation didn’t kill you then and there?”
I swallow hard and admit, “It did at some point, but then I’d remember all the times he put the club first, put Faith first, leaving me in the dark. It’s been four years, and it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“You know Brute tried to rape Heaven, right?” he says, and I nod.
“I know. She’s been telling me for years to reach back out to Steal, but I just can’t. I’ve moved on with my life, and I refuse to go back because, honestly, putting myself first is the best feeling in the world.”
Anchor's mouth hangs open in shock as he stutters, “Y-you, I mean, you’re still….” I tilt my head, raising a brow, and he snaps, “You still see my wife?”
I grin and pat his cheek. “Of course. At least once a month.”
That said, I kiss his cheek and walk away, leaving him in shock.
Heaven is going to kill me, but honestly, I can’t hear any more excuses she comes up with about why Steal held a gun to my head.
It doesn’t matter, as far as I’m concerned. He did it, end of story, and I meant what I said.
Putting me first is amazing, even if it makes me selfish.
In the staff parking lot, I rummage through my bag, looking for my keys, growling to myself because, yet again, I forgot to clean my bag out before work.
As soon as I hook my finger through the loop, his voice rings out. I hate the way my stomach tightens…and the way it soothes me.
“When did you get back into town?” he asks calmly, and my clit throbs, reminding me how much I missed him, and I silently tell the whore side of my brain to pack it in.
Putting yourself first , I remind myself before turning my head to see him leaning against his bike near my car, his arms crossed over his muscular chest, his eyes taking in my features.
I know I look a little different. My hair is longer, I have bags beneath my eyes, and yes, I’m a little bit bigger after giving birth. Pregnancy helped me grow into my curves, and I love it. My clothes don’t hang anymore, instead, they show off my figure, and damn, does my ass look great in a pair of jeans.
“I never left,” I admit, making his eyes come to mine in shock. I continue, “What is it Piston used to say, Steal?”
He flinches when I use his road name, but he mutters, “If you want to run, hide in plain sight,” and I shrug. He growls, “You never fucking handed in your keys to your landlord, did you?”
I grin at him coyly before turning to my car and unlocking it.
“Can we talk, Cassy…before I go and kill your landlord?” he asks sternly.
I shake my head as I throw my bag into my car, suddenly glad Tanner had the sense to remove Moira’s car seat.
“No can do. I’m a patch-chasing whore, remember.” I look his way and say, “Why don’t you go back to Faith, because it wouldn’t surprise me if she’s still hanging around, ruining more lives.” I climb into my car as his phone rings, and I chuckle darkly, knowing exactly who it is by how tense he gets.
Without a backward glance, I turn my car on and drive off, heading toward the gym where my sister has been living, something Acid doesn’t know.
My sister, Perrie, a woman who has gone through so much in her short life, so much that I should have been there for, to prevent, to help her through. And I wasn’t.
I fucking failed her….