Chapter 18
FREYA
Living with Pierce is overwhelming in the best possible ways. He’s a different man in his own space. I’ve been given carte blanche to redecorate the space as I see fit, and I’m more than happy to make some changes. The night after I moved in, I explored my new home and quickly realized that it wasn’t a home. It’s been a place where Pierce sleeps and nothing more.
There are no pictures of family or friends adorning the walls. His closet is clinical. The kitchen is nothing more than a staged area to reheat whatever takeout he had for dinner the night before. I’m not sure if he’s ever cooked a meal in it.
Don’t get me wrong, the apartment is stunning. It’s styled like it should be on the cover of a magazine. Every piece of furniture was clearly handpicked but not by Pierce. I’d bet my career he hired an interior designer. There’s nothing of his personality in the décor.
Although Pierce is a force to be reckoned with in the operating room and a commanding presence at Venom, there’s a lighter side to him at home, and I want to reflect that in the space. He’s funny—still a little grumpy—he watches Friends when he’s tired but doesn’t want to sleep. That’s rare, given I’m his bedtime distraction now, but when I’m exhausted and in need of some shuteye, I hear the television on low and his soft chuckles drifting in from the living room.
With every new tidbit of his personality, I find myself falling deeper in love with him. I thought the separation of work, personal life, and the club was necessary in the beginning, but now, I can’t imagine my life any other way. The whispers soon died down at work. Not because we’re any less of a topic of conversation but because Pierce read the riot act to some residents when they questioned his motives.
I’m focused on my training. I have access to the foremost neurosurgeon in the world, and I refuse to waste that on the off-chance one of my colleagues is butt hurt by it. I know my worth. I’ve earned my position on Pierce’s service, and I’m certain in the knowledge that if I left him today, he’d still be my surgical mentor. Above all else—and even though he doesn’t see it—Pierce is a man of honor. He’s a good, honest man. He prides himself on his career, and although others believe him to be cold and harsh at work, they don’t see what I do.
He cares for his patients. Their lives matter to him, and he will fight to the death for every one of them. He doesn’t believe in the term ‘inoperable.’ If someone comes to him for a second opinion, he will always put the decision in their hands. They know he’s their last chance at a meaningful life, and if they want to stand in front of the dragon that is their tumor and stay steadfast as he draws his sword, then he will try. There are no words to describe the victory that permeates from every fiber of my being when we manage to save one.
That’s what I want for my career. I want to slay the dragon and give someone back the life they thought was lost. It makes the losses more bearable, but they still take a piece of you. Char it. Claw it from your soul. But, to save a life is the greatest single feeling in life.
“What’s on your mind, little one?” Pierce asks as we scrub in for surgery.
“You’re a dragon slayer.”
“Come again?” He raises his eyebrows in question .
“You truly care about your patients. All of them. No matter how hopeless their odds. You stand and face the dragon.”
“And a lot of the time, I get burned. You know that.”
“And sometimes you slay the fucking dragon.” He’s surprised by my cussing. I rarely do it, but as I stare at him in his scrubs, he may as well be wearing knight’s armor. He’s badass, and together we stand united.
The smile on his face is everything .
“You’re cute when you’re inspired, little one.” I love that he still calls me his little one when we’re alone at the hospital.
“And you’re hot when you operate… Daddy . I’m seriously in love with you.”
He grabs my face with his hands, his lips crashing down on mine as he backs me against the wall, deepening the kiss as my arms wrap around his waist. When we come up gasping for air, my body is on fire.
“We’ll have to rescrub,” I whisper.
“Totally worth it.” He smiles against my lips. “We’re going to the club tonight.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
A nurse appears at the door, a frown marring her otherwise pretty face. “They’re ready for you, Dr. Harrison.”
“Thanks, Annette. We’re about to scrub in.”
“Very good, Doctor.”
I let my head drop against the wall as she leaves. “Great. One more person to hate me.”
“She doesn’t hate you. She’s just a stickler for time. It’s my fault for making us scrub again.”
I push up and plant a kiss on his lips.
“Totally worth it.”
We rescrub in silence, getting into the right mindset for surgery. The second we set foot inside the operating room, we are colleagues working together with the nursing staff and anesthesiologist to do our best for the patient and give our absolute focus.
When we’re all in place, Pierce gives the order, and silence befalls the room. “Ten blade, please. Making the first incision. ”
No matter how many times I join him in the OR, I’m always in awe of his skill. Our patient today has been turned away by three doctors already, and I’d venture to say Pierce may be the only surgeon in the country willing to operate.
“Annette, please hand the bone saw to Dr. Perrington.”
She does as she’s told, and all eyes are on me.
“Are you sure, Dr. Harrison?” I can’t help but ask.
“You’ve done this before. It’s my job to get you ready to be the lead surgeon on your own cases. Don’t question my methods, Dr. Perrington, or you can leave my OR.”
“Sorry, Dr. Harrison. I didn’t mean to question you. I’m eager for this patient to get our very best.”
“Good. That’s the goal of everyone in this room. Now, take the saw. We need the flap to be about eight centimeters in diameter.”
The moment I step up to make the cut, a calm washes over me. It’s like coming home. This is where I’m meant to be.
Pierce is meticulous as he navigates the various parts of the brain that create who we are as people—what makes us unique. It’s one of the reasons neurosurgery is so elite. There aren’t many who want to give themselves zero room for error. As surgeons in every field, our failures aren’t just a bad day at work. They are literally life and death. When it comes to the brain, a millimeter can be the difference between a meaningful life and a vegetative state.
I know his reputation, but even I am stunned when he says the words this patient’s family is waiting to hear but not expecting. “We got it all. Good work, everyone.”
Just as he’s about to start closing, one of the first-year residents appears at the entrance to the operating room. “Dr. Harrison, there’s an urgent case in the ER. A four-year-old boy with massive head trauma. Dr. Wilder has requested your consult.”
“Dr. Perrington, can you close for me?” He looks at me as I steel myself.
“Yes, Dr. Harrison.”
“Thank you.” He turns his attention to his scrub nurse. “Annette, can you get the OR prepped for a possible pediatric head trauma? ”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Pierce pulls off his gown and gloves and disappears through the door.
“Annette, 4-0, please.”
I take my time, making sure every stitch is textbook, aware that this is going to be a scar this patient will have for the rest of his now long life. It’s an honor, and I remind myself with every move of my hand. Everything I’ve worked for—every late-night cramming session and side job I’ve done to put myself through school. It’s for moments like this. We saved a life today. We didn’t just mend what was broken. This tumor thought it had claimed its victim, and now it sits lifeless in medical waste, unable to leech off its host any longer.
With the last stitch, I thank the staff and take my leave, but Annette follows me into the scrub room. “He’s different since he met you.”
I turn to face her. “What?”
“There’s… life in his eyes that wasn’t there before. He’s a good man.”
“I know.”
“He’s not like the other attendings. He cares more than anyone, as much as he tries to hide it.”
“Did you two…”
“No.” She cuts me off, and I heave a sigh of relief. “He’s never been in a relationship with a coworker. But I see how he is with you, and he’s my friend. Don’t hurt him.”
It never crossed my mind that he has friends here at the hospital. Of course he does. He’s a great man, and I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s not one of those assholes who only speak to other attendings. He would never look down his nose at someone because they aren’t at his level.
“I don’t plan to. I love him.” It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud to someone other than Pierce.
“I see that.” She gives me a warm smile before leaving me to scrub out.
When I’m done, I head up to the waiting room to give the good news to our patient’s family. With Pierce down in the ER, it falls on me to let them know how the surgery went. So often, it’s a difficult conversation to have. The first time I told a patient’s family that they didn’t make it through surgery, I ran to the closest bathroom and puked my guts out the second I left the room.
Today, I get to deliver the best news.
Adrenaline courses through my veins as I open the door to the waiting room, and I’m met with somber faces, fear evident as they collectively stand to greet me.
“Where’s Dr. Harrison?”
“He has been called to consult on another patient. I’m Dr. Perrington. I work with Dr. Harrison and was in your…”
“Brother. John is my brother.”
“I was part of John’s surgical team.”
“Is he… dead?”
“No. He’s recovering up in the ICU right now. Surgery went well. Dr. Harrison was able to get the whole tumor.”
The hulk of a man in front of me drops to his knees. “You got it all?”
“Yes, sir. We won’t know more until he wakes up, but he is in recovery and tumor-free right now. I will come back when he wakes up and get you up to see him.”
“Thank you so much. You saved his life. I can’t believe it. We’ve been sitting here all day, waiting to hear the worst. Bracing for it. Expecting it.” When he stands up, I reach out my hand to shake his, but he pulls me into his embrace. “Thank you.”
“Dr. Harrison is the best surgeon you’ll find. Your brother was in good hands today.”
“No one else would take a chance on John. They gave him six months to live.”
“He’s got a long road to recovery, but we’ll keep you posted every step of the way.”
“I… thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. I’m going to go and check on him now.” I acknowledge the rest of the family with a nod and a smile before leaving them with the news and making my way up to the ICU. It’s not long before my pager starts beeping for the ER. Pierce must be in surgery already with the boy he went to consult on. They always page him unless he’s already tied up elsewhere. I’ve become his proxy for consultations these days.
When you get paged by the ER, you don’t take your time getting there. As a resident, everywhere I’m paged is at a run, but when it’s the ER, you’ll see me sprinting down the hallway.
I come to a halt at the nurses’ station when I take in the sight before me. My brain doesn’t even know what I’m looking at.
It can’t be.
Pierce is in handcuffs, his knuckles bloody, being led out of the hospital by a police officer.
I rush to his side. “Pierce, what’s going on?”
“Call Dalton. His number is in my phone. His wife is a lawyer. Call him now, Freya.”
“I will.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
The moment he’s out of sight, I turn back to the nurses. “What happened?” My pulse is racing so hard it’s whooshing in my ears. “Why is he in handcuffs?”
“A kid was brought in by his mother. He had major head wounds and was badly beaten. Dr. Harrison took one look at his films and confirmed what we feared. The kid has been abused for years. Old breaks showed up on his X-rays. The father turned up with bruises all over his knuckles, shouting that ‘the bitch can’t keep him away.’ Dr. Harrison told him to leave, but he started shouting all kinds of terrible things at both the mother and boy. Dr. Harrison just lost it. They started fighting, and he took the father down right here in the hallway.”
That’s not the Pierce I know. He doesn’t hurt people. He heals them. My hands are shaking as I cover my mouth to stop the sobs fighting to break free. Then, his words kick in. I need to get his phone now .
I quickly make my way to the attendings’ lounge, grab his bag, and rummage for his phone. My heart sinks at the sight of the passcode lock. I don’t know the number to open his phone. With my mind racing a million miles a minute, I rush to my locker in the residents’ lounge and dial Celest. I’m out of breath when she answers.
“Hey, Freya. Long time no see.” Shit. I forgot about the last time we saw each other. I’ve been putting off talking to her for weeks, and I’m a bad friend for avoiding her.
“Celest. I’m sorry, but I can’t talk right now.”
“What’s wrong? You sound weird.”
“I’ll explain later. I need to get in touch with Dalton Callaghan. It’s urgent.”
“What’s going on, Frey?”
“Please. I promise I’ll fill you in later, but I really need to speak with him. Can you help me?”
“Genevieve will have his number. I’ll call her right now and forward the number as soon as I get it.”
“Thank you so much, Cel.”
“Sure. Is everything okay with Master Harrison?” I can hear the concern in her voice, but I have to hold it together right now.
“I hope so. Thanks for doing this for me. I need to go. I’ll call you later.”
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right? We’re still friends.”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll text you soon.”
I hang up the call and head for the Chief of Surgery’s office. I need to get out of here and down to the police station. I’ve got five hours left on my shift, but I’ll be more of a hindrance in my current state of mind.
I hurry through the hospital, everyone gaping at me as I pass. Gossip spreads like wildfire around here, so I would expect nothing less. When I reach Dr. Milligan’s office, he’s already up and throwing the door open to meet me.
“What the hell is going on, Dr. Perrington? Why am I hearing that my Chief of Neuro just got escorted out of the ER in handcuffs?”
“It’s his story to tell. I came to ask if I can leave to go to the police station. ”
“Fine. Go. But you tell Pierce I want him in my office the second he gets out.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” I don’t wait around for him to change his mind.
Celest is true to her word, and by the time I reach my car in the parking lot, I have Dalton’s number.
It only rings twice before he answers. “Dalton Callaghan.” He has the same commanding tone as Pierce.
“Hello, Mr. Callaghan. You don’t know me, but my name is Freya Perrington. I’m Pierce’s… I work with Dr. Harrison.”
“I know who you are. Why are you calling me?” He knows who I am.
“There was an incident at the hospital tonight. He asked me to call you.”
“Is he okay? Is he hurt?”
“Physically, he’s fine. I think. He got into an altercation with a patient’s father. I didn’t see it happen, but when I got down to the ER, Pierce was in handcuffs, and the police took him to the station. I’m on my way there now.”
“Okay, I’m going to get Naddie, and we’ll meet you there.”
“Thank you.” I start the car and peel out of the parking lot way too fast, but the need to get to Pierce is a physical pain in my chest.
When I arrive, they won’t tell me anything, and I feel so helpless as I sit and wait. The moment Dalton comes barreling through the door, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. His wife is at his side, and they look every inch the power couple.
She steps up to the front desk.
“I want to speak with my client. Now. Dr. Pierce Harrison.”
Dalton takes a seat next to me, resting his elbows on his thighs. “What the fuck happened? Pierce wouldn’t throw down with anyone , let alone a patient’s parent.”
“I think the boy was being abused.”
“Fuck.” His response only gives credence to what I’ve suspected from Pierce’s ramblings during his nightmares. Something triggered him tonight.
“I don’t know if he threw the first punch. ”
“There’s surveillance in the hospital, right?” he asks with such cold precision.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Who do I need to talk to to get it?”
“The Chief of Surgery is your best bet. He’s a good friend of Daddy’s. I mean Pierce. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever apologize to me for showing your love for Pierce. I’m elated that he’s happy with you.”
“I can contact Dr. Milligan. I’ll go back to the hospital.”
“No. You wait here. Pierce is going to want to see your face when Naddie gets him out of here. I’ll go and speak with Dr. Milligan.”
“Do you think your wife will be able to get him out tonight? The thought of him in there makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t know what provoked the fight, but I know him , and the guy must really have deserved it.”
“Has Pierce ever talked to you about his childhood?”
“Not really, but I have suspicions. He has nightmares.” I won’t say more than that. It’s not my place.
“He’ll open up eventually. Just hang in there. He’s a good man.”
“You don’t have to sell me on him, Mr. Callaghan. He’s the love of my life.”
“Call me, Dalton. Now, I’m going to go and get us that surveillance footage and see about getting Pierce out in the next few hours.”
“Thank you so much… Dalton.”
“You’re welcome. If Naddie comes out, tell her where I went.”
“I will.”
The moment he’s out the door, a silent sob racks my entire body as I drop my head in my hands. How did we get here? And how are we going to get out of this?
Whatever happens, I’ll be by Daddy’s side. He’s mine, and nothing he could ever do would change that fact. A calmness washes over me at the realization. He’s mine.