Silence
I’m accosted the moment I step out of the bathroom.
“Why is he shouting?” I ask, heading back to the ward. That bathroom break was the first I’ve had in five hours and will be the last before I go home, and now I wish I’d hidden a little longer.
“I don’t know, he—”
“I’ve been in the bathroom,” I say as I beeline for bay four.
My friend gestures at the whiteboard and the patients’ names scribbled across it. “It’s a mess!”
The thrum of the ER is one I’m used to. I know its rhythm, even when it tries to throw me off. The sights, the smells, the sounds—it’s a road I’ve travelled down a thousand times.
Which means I also know if someone messed with Steffi’s board, it’s best to steer clear.
I draw back the curtain for bay four, Amelia hot on my heels. “What’s up, Mr. Hendricks?”
The businessman sits forward, wrinkles deepening as he frowns. “I’ve been waiting for two hours. Look at my leg!”
“I understand, Mr. Hendricks, but there are other patients who—”
“I pay my healthcare like every fucker else!”
I put my hands on my hips. “Yes, you do, sir, but as you were brought in, a woman arrived with a steering wheel lodged in her chest. She probably takes priority over the fork in your leg, don’t you think?
” His mouth opens and closes, and I give him a thumbs-up.
“Glad you agree. Don’t yell at my staff. ”
I close the curtain, and Amelia catches up to me. “What steering-wheel woman?”
“She doesn’t exist in this hospital.” I reach the nurse’s station. “Can we get bay four looked at before he starts threatening to sue?”
Steffi balances the phone between her shoulder and ear. “Who?”
“Fork-leg guy.”
Steffi nods before speaking into the phone and hanging up. “Three incoming, car accident.” She glances behind me and cheers. “Dr. Do-It-All!”
Monica sweeps into view, already pulling her dark hair into a ponytail.
“Bad day?” she asks.
“My board is a mess,” Steffi grumbles.
Monica chuckles and tugs on my own ponytail. “We’ll fix it. Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry I can’t make your meal.”
“It’s fine. Grant’s coming though, right?”
She nods. “Of course he is. It’s free food.”
Shouts erupt from the entryway. “Thirty-five-year-old male—”
And just like that, we’re swallowed in the rush.
I don’t stand still long enough to register that my feet are throbbing, my throat is parched, and I need another bathroom break.
I’m rushed from patient to patient, blood and sweat on my scrubs, the sounds of crying, phones ringing, and the squeak of a marker on the whiteboard mixing together, like a soundtrack to my working life.
I’ve finally found a minute to chug from my water bottle when a familiar face appears.
Everyone at the nurses’ station will be putting in claims for whiplash as they notice Yale one by one. Someone sighs. Another one whispers a prayer. It wouldn’t surprise me if Steffi swooned.
“Hey,” I say as Yale reaches me. “What are you doing here?”
“I called you on your lunch break and you didn’t pick up, which usually means you haven’t had one.” He holds up a takeout bag from my favorite taco joint. “I’m bringing you food.”
I whimper and press my face against the paper bag, inhaling deeply. “I can’t; we’re too busy.”
“You can have a ten-minute break to eat,” he says, then takes my hand and addresses everyone else. “I’m stealing her.”
I think someone giggles in response.
The rain has stopped long enough for us to sit on a bench out front. As I hoover up the tacos, Yale rests his arm behind me, watching the parking lot and passing ambulances.
Yale is my best friend. My entire fucking world. I love him so intensely that sometimes I just squeeze his cheeks together and tell him I want to cut him up and freeze the parts so I can gobble him down whenever I need a bit of him. My love language is aggression, but he’s used to it by now.
So, seeing him now brings back the dream.
The way he’d whispered in my ear, what he said …
it’s a rush of excitement I shouldn’t be feeling, even if Zayden found it amusing.
Yale is good-looking. Outstandingly handsome, just like all the Silver brothers, so it isn’t like I’ve recently discovered that, but as for being someone I’m sexually attracted to? That’s new.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts and my final bite of taco.
“Hm?”
“This morning. You said to call you.”
Yes, I did. But hours have passed and now embarrassment has set in, and I don’t know whether I can share this anymore.
“Right, it was … nothing. Just Steffi called me this morning feeling all guilty and weird because—” I pause, shoving the rest of the taco in my mouth. “She had a sex dream about you.”
Throwing my friend under the bus here, but when push comes to shove …
Yale watches me, an amused smile on his face. “Why would she feel guilty about that?”
I chew quickly and swallow. “Because she knows how close we are. It’s like crushing on my brother.”
Ew. Why did I say that?
Sign me up for therapy.
“But it isn’t that weird, right?” I ask, swigging from a bottle of water. “A dream is just a dream. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Exactly. We all have weird dreams.”
I nod. “Yeah. Yes! We do. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Like, for example, last night I had a dream that Xavier and I fucked you.”
I choke on a mouthful a water, spitting it across the ground and desperately pulling in air as Yale laughs. I punch his bicep several times. “Zayden told you!”
“Yes, he told me.” He cackles. “Why did you lie?”
“Because it’s weird! Don’t tell me it’s not weird.”
He shrugs. “It really isn’t, love. It’s a dream. That’s all.”
Wiping the excess water from my chin, I slump against the bench. “You’re right. I’m overthinking it.”
“I gotta ask, though …” He takes the packaging from my lap and leans close, lowering his voice. “What happened in this dream?” I lightly shove him and try to stand, but he wraps his arms around me. “Come on. Tell me.”
I laugh and angle my face away. “You don’t really want to know.”
“We tell each other everything, Q. Try me.”
My neck is hot, and I sigh. “I mean, I don’t remember most of it, just … Xavier was … y’know.” I gesture between my legs.
“Eating you out?”
“Oh my God!” I whimper, and he lets me go, but I remain seated. “Yes. And you were … talking to me.”
I expect disappointment, but instead, intrigue curls his lips. “Saying what?”
“Silence!”
Snapping my head to the right, I spot Amelia at the ER entrance, gesturing in a panic. “I should go.”
Yale leans back. “See you after work, love.”
There’s no time to think about our conversation. The hours pass by in a blur, and soon I’m way past my time to leave.
“Silence, go,” Steffi says, gesturing at her watch for the fourth time. My shift ended thirty minutes ago, but we’re understaffed and busy as hell.
I shake my head. “I can stay a little—”
“Get out!” several other nurses shout, and I sigh, stripping off my latex gloves.
“Fine. I love you all! Happy holidays!”
Before leaving, I stop at one of the bays. Amelia is examining a thumb that saw the business end of an electric meat slicer. The patient is a worrying shade of green, perspiration on her brow.
“You okay, Amelia?”
She grins at me. “Yep. Are you leaving?”
“I am. See you in two weeks. You might want to keep an eye on—” The patient lurches forward and pukes, yellow bile splashing across Amelia’s scrubs. I wince, offering a sympathetic smile. “Have a good Christmas?”
She grimaces and nods, and I head for the door.
Monica is standing by my car when I reach it, and I glare at the cigarette between her fingers. “Mon. You worked so hard!”
“I know. Stress.” She chews her thumb, the cigarette tip glowing in the darkness as she takes a drag and exhales it into the air. “Don’t tell on me, okay?”
“Fine, but you owe me an eggnog latte.” I say as I search through my purse for my keys. Once I’ve clicked the fob, I finally get a closer look at Monica. Maybe I was caught up in the rush of work, because I only now notice the bags under her eyes. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah …” Her laugh is tinny, and when I place my hand on her arm, she looks away, her eyes shining. “Can you do me a favor tonight? Can you keep an eye on Grant?”
I search her face. “What do you mean?”
“He’s just … he’s been acting strange. Phone calls in the night. Not sleeping. And I think he’s avoiding me, too. We’ve hardly seen each other.” Her lip trembles, and she chews it frantically. “I think he’s cheating.”
My chest almost caves in at the thought. “Mon, no. Grant adores you. It’s probably just work.”
“What tech guy needs to take calls at one in the morning?”
Shit. This is why I hate knowing what I do. Monica is my closest friend, and the last thing I want to do is lie to her, but I know the heartache that follows a truth like this one.
“I’ll keep an eye on him. But I’m telling you, he would rather die than hurt you.”
Monica nods, forcing a smile. “You’re right. I love you. Have a good birthday, okay?”
“I love you, too. Call me if you need me.”
Monica’s darkened demeanor is on my mind as I drive home, but I’m certain Grant isn’t cheating.
Sometimes Z leaves in the night, and there are even times he’s gone for two or three days.
It’s awful, and I hate it, but I never once doubt his fidelity, especially when I see the weight he carries when he comes back to me.
Zayden is on the phone when I get home, and I blow him a kiss before going upstairs and getting in the shower.
Once I’m showered and my hair is washed, I wrap myself in a towel and head to the walk-in. Zayden has hung up my black silk dress with the cowl neckline, strappy shoes to match. No underwear, which isn’t a surprise.
I’m applying makeup at the vanity by the time Zayden joins me. “How was work?”
“Same as always.” I drop my head back so he can kiss me. “How was your day?”
“Same as always.” Identical answers with very different meanings, but I try not to dwell on it.
I apply my mascara in slow, careful sweeps. Monica’s concern comes back to me. “Is Grant okay?”
“What do you mean?”
I sigh heavily. “Monica thinks he’s cheating. She said he’s acting strange, avoiding her—”
“He’s proposing.”
My eyes lock on his in the mirror. “Really?”
“Yep. And he seems nervous, so that’s probably it. He also said he wants out.”
My intrigue piqued, I turn on my small velvet stool to face him. “Seriously? He’s quitting, just like that?”
Zayden nods, and I focus on my dress hanging on the walk-in door.
Grant will have thought long and hard about leaving this line of work, but to hear that he’s made that decision leaves something aching and hollow in my chest.
Monica’s worries over late-night disappearances and phone calls will vanish almost overnight.
Will I ever get that?
“You know it’s not that simple for me, right, Q?” Zayden says softly, and I look up at him. He touches my cheek, and his brows pull together. “I can’t just up and leave like he can.”
Why not?
Words I don’t bother saying, because I know the answer. We’ve had this conversation a dozen times—he isn’t an employee, he’s a part-owner, and his responsibilities can’t be easily replaced.
Still, I have to bury my frustration, because as childish as it sounds, the same three words reverberate in my head: it isn’t fair.
“Knock, knock.”
We look over as Yale enters. He’s in a three-piece dark green suit, gold pocket watch hanging from his right breast pocket, looking every bit a “professor from a porno,” as Steffi calls him.
“You’re not dressed? We’re gonna be late,” he says to his brother.
“I was just about to check on X.” Zayden leans down and kisses me softly, his lips brushing my ear. “Try not to fuck him while I’m gone.”
My cheeks blaze, and I swat his arm. “I want a divorce.”
His deep laugh sends shivers across my skin, and he leaves, but not before squeezing his brother’s shoulder as he goes.
Yale approaches, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You look beautiful. How was the rest of your shift?”
“It was fine.” Finished with my makeup, I return to the walk-in and drop my robe before taking my dress off the hanger. “Remind me not to work night shifts and day shifts in the same week, though.”
“Gladly. I hate not having you next door when I get my midnight cravings.”
Sometimes, when we can’t sleep, I’ll sneak over to Yale’s or he’ll sneak over here, and we sit on the kitchen floor and eat whatever we have in the fridge. We’ve done it for years, and I’ve missed it this week.
“Sorry, won’t happen again,” I say, slipping into my dress and heels. As I step back into the bedroom, Yale whistles.
“Looking good, love.”
I spin and flutter my lashes. “Thank you. You don’t look half bad yourself.”
“I know. Also, I found this.” Yale closes the space between us and takes a pearl-encrusted hair clip out of his pocket.
I gasp. “You found it.”
“I did.”
In a slow, swift movement, he slides the clip into my hair.
My heart beats a little faster, because while he’s focused on his task, I’m focused on him.
He may be identical to his brothers, but there are small things that set him apart.
Where Zayden is rough edges and control, Yale is a gentle soul, but no less powerful.
Zayden and Xavier could take down a threat with their fists, but Yale could talk someone out of anger.
He smiles and tilts his head, pressing the backs of his fingers against my cheek.
“You’re blushing.”
Fuck. Fuck this dream to hell and back. “I’m just warm.”
“You’re not getting sick, are you?” He touches the back of my neck. “Do we need to cancel?”
I shake my head. “Honestly, I’m fine. Probably just need to wake up after that shift. Can I meet you downstairs? I just need to grab my clutch.”
“Sure.” He pinches my nose and leaves, and I slump onto the bed.
It was a dream. That’s all. I also dreamt I was being chased by an elephant detective last week. That doesn’t mean anything, either.
I just need a glass of wine and Zayden to fuck me, and I’ll be fine.
Right?