Chapter 3
Navy ‘Nay’ Prescott
Afew days later, the bruise had finally started fading, but it was still there.
Every morning I stood in front of a mirror convincing myself it looked better than it did the day before, and every morning I was lying my ass off.
The deep purple color had turned yellow around the edges, and the swelling had gone down, but it was still obvious enough that I wasn’t taking any chances.
I leaned closer to the employee restroom mirror and carefully dabbed more concealer across my cheek before blending it out with a makeup sponge.
If anybody from work noticed, nobody had said a damn thing.
Maybe they believed I walked into something or maybe they didn’t but either way, I wasn’t interested in answering questions.
The bruise on my neck irritated me more than the one on my face and my scrubs covered part of it, but not enough.
I tilted my head from side to side, checking the mirror from every angle while trying to figure out if it was visible.
Working in an emergency room meant spending twelve hours around people trained to notice shit, and the last thing I needed was one of my coworkers pulling me to the side asking if everything was okay at home because truth be told, nothing was okay at home and nothing had been okay for a long time.
The only difference now was that I had finally stopped lying to myself about it.
I sat my makeup bag on the counter and stared at my reflection cause looking at myself felt strange these days because a week ago, I thought I was finally leaving.
It made my skin crawl, but for now I needed him comfortable because comfortable people got careless, and I was counting on Rome getting a little too comfortable.
If my big mama Lulu knew what was really going on, she’d knock me upside the head with a cast iron skillet because one thing she didn’t play about was taking shit from a man.
My phone started vibrating, snapping me out of my thoughts as I glanced down at the screen and immediately rolled my eyes.
Of course, it was Rome and for a few seconds I just stared at his name lighting up my phone.
There was a time I would’ve answered on the first ring.
Hell, a few months ago I probably would’ve smiled when I saw him calling.
It was funny how fast that kind of shit can change.
Now every time his name popped up on my screen my stomach dropped.
“Hey,” I answered.
“What’s up, baby?” Rome asked, sounding entirely too damn cheerful for somebody who felt like he could do whatever the fuck he wanted when he wanted.
I grabbed my makeup bag and started putting everything away while he talked. “At work.”
“I figured that. You eat yet?”
“No.”
“You hungry? I can bring you some Airline’s. You know that’s our shit.”
‘Boy you know you wrong for that’, I thought to myself.
I loved some Airline’s! See, shit like that used to make me feel special back when I thought checking on me meant he cared.
Now all I heard was bullshit because the same man asking me if I was hungry had no problem taking every dollar I had with his stupid ass.
“I’m good,” I told him. “I brought something.”
“Aight, I was thinking about bringing you lunch but if you good then I got you for dinner.”
I walked toward the restroom door and pushed it open. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Why you always saying no?” He quizzed like he didn’t know what was up.
Because I can’t stand your ass! Is what I wanted to say although truth was deep down inside I still loved him. I just loved myself more now. The answer sat right on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it back down.
“Because I’m working, Rome.”
“Aight, aight. Damn, I was just asking.” He sighed sounding like he was moving around in traffic. “I’ll call you later on.”
“Okay,” was all I said before I paused.
“Navy…” he called.
“Yes?” I answered sounding all innocent.
“I love you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I love you too. Gotta get to these patients Rome, I’ll talk to you later.”
I ended the call and when I stepped into the hallway; the overhead speaker crackled above me as a familiar voice came across the intercom announcing a trauma alert, and the energy around me changed.
It was no longer calm as the nurses started moving faster.
A respiratory therapist hurried past me pushing equipment and two techs jogged toward the trauma bay while somebody else was yelling for a stretcher.
One thing about an emergency room, all that quiet shit could disappear in seconds that’s why we had to value when we had it.
One minute everybody was talking about lunch plans and what drama they had over the weekend and the next minute somebody was fighting for their life.
I shoved the phone back into my scrub pocket.
Rome could be irritated if he wanted to be.
At the moment, I had bigger things to worry about than hurt feelings.
By the time I made it to Bay Three, the paramedics were already rolling the patient through the doors as the entire trauma team moved automatically moved into position.
After enough years working in an emergency room, your body learned what to do before your brain caught up.
Everybody had a job, and everybody was already doing it.
The patient looked like he’d been through hell with blood covering the front of his shirt.
Meanwhile one side of his face was swollen, and there were cuts across both of his arms. Even with all that, he was still trying to fight the paramedics who were trying to help him.
One of them looked exhausted as he gave the report to the trauma physician while helping transfer the patient onto the bed.
Apparently there had been a vehicle accident, but judging by the amount of blood and the way he kept trying to sit up, I had a feeling there was more to the story than a simple crash.
“Where the fuck is my phone?” he demanded as soon as they got him onto the trauma bed.
“Sir, stay still,” Nurse Trinity told him.
“Man, fuck all that. Where my phone?”
The doctor completely ignored him and started calling out orders.
Everybody moved at one time to check his blood pressure, start the IV, get some labs ordered, as well as get the monitors rolling all while asking questions.
The room immediately got noisy as machines started beeping and people began talking over one another.
The patient groaned and tried to push himself up again before immediately falling back against the bed.
Whatever adrenaline had been carrying him was starting to wear off.
“Tell them muhfuckas I ain’t dead,” he slurred, but nobody responded. “Y’all hear me?”
His eyes bounced around the room before landing on me for a brief second.
He looked young, probably around the same age a me in his late twenties but even beat up and covered in blood, he was one of those dudes who would’ve had women staring if the circumstances were different.
Unfortunately for him, this wasn’t that.
This was an emergency room, and everybody in the room was more interested in keeping him alive than admiring him.
The doctor cut open the front of his shirt and paused. “Hold on,” he said while examining him. The room got a little quieter as we waited.
“What you got Doc?” another physician asked.
“That’s not from the accident.” He replied moving even faster.
I looked down and saw the gunshot wound.
Suddenly the entire mood in the room changed.
Well damn, I thought, that explained a lot from all that swelling and panicking, or the way he kept asking for his phone and kept screaming worried about talking to somebody than he did about the fact that he was bleeding all over the trauma bed.
One of the other nurses immediately started asking questions while another prepared additional supplies.
The patient laughed, then winced from the pain.
This man is crazy; I whispered under my breath while still in action doing my job.
“I told them muhfuckas…” he muttered before dazing off.
“Told who?” I asked.
His eyes started to flutter and then opened again. “I want my damn phone.”
The doctor wasn’t interested in his phone, so he ignored him and spoke to us instead. “We need to get him upstairs.”
The patient cursed even louder this time. His words were getting harder to understand, but hell, the anger behind them wasn’t. “I swear when I find them…” he started.
Then his voice drifted away as another nurse helped cut away the remainder of his shirt.
My eyes landed on the tattoo across the center of his chest that said ‘EMPIRE’.
The letters were impossible to miss, that’s how damn big they were.
I had no idea what it meant whether it was a street name, a damn business, or some kind of crew…
who knew. People tattooed all kinds of random shit on themselves these days.
Hell, I know I did that’s why I had Rome’s name tattooed right above my pussy.
The patient mumbled something else before his eyes closed again.
The doctors kept working while preparing him for emergency surgery, and after another few minutes they started wheeling him toward the operating room.
As the bed disappeared through the doors, one of the nurses handed me the pile of bloody clothing and personal belongings after I tried to calm the patient down. “Can you inventory everything and get it bagged?” She asked.
I nodded and carried the pile toward the counter, already reaching for one of the patient’s property bags. Between the torn clothing, the big chain, Burberry wallet, brand new I-phone, and whatever else was mixed into the mess, it looked like it was going to take a minute.