Page 97 of Undeniably Enemies

“Come see, Wren.”

“She kicked his ass,” Margot tells me.

I start to shake my head only to force myself to stop. “They wanted an update.”

“Tell them he’ll live to see his day in court. He has some bruises on his chest and two broken fingers. She broke his nose and jaw and cracked two ribs with it. He’s sedated and in line for a CT, but his C-spine and cranial X-rays are clear.”

“It’s not fair,” I whisper.

“No,” Margot agrees. “It’s not.”

I look at his unconscious form, and memories explode through my head like a series of grenades, one after the other in gruesome detail.

“Wren?”

My gaze snaps up. “Yes?”

“You okay?”

I swallow and nod at Layla, wishing I were wearing a mask to hide most of my face the way everyone else in here is.

“You can let them know.”

“Right.”

“If you wait for me, we can go to the gym after my shift,” Margot offers though I’m not sure I can do that tonight. My vision begins to crackle at the edges. It feels like I’m floating as I return to the other trauma room where they’re… defibrillating her.

“He’s unconscious, has some cracked ribs, some facial fractures, and two broken fingers,” I declare. “That’s it.”

Only no one hears me. They’re too busy shocking this poor woman’s body, and I can’t handle that. I can’t when all I see is that night. Trauma sucks. It just does. It comes in waves and starts and stops, and just when you think you’re fine and you’ve got your shit together, an asshole comes along and sayshold my beer.

I had that jackass at a frat party who thought it was cute and fun to slip me a lot of Benadryl along with my drink, though thankfully he was stopped, and a couple of years later, I was out for a run, like this girl was, and was attacked from behind by my ex. I’m a Fritz and had been taught advanced self-defense and also had an alarm on my keys.

Both of those things saved my life, but I still had to fight, and I still have to live with the aftermath. Which right now is brutal. To the point where I can feel bile climbing up the back of my throat, and no amount of praying or Jesus is going to push it back down where it belongs. It’s either puke here or puke in private, and I choose private.

Without another word, I flee the trauma room and race down the hall straight into the locker room, where I go for the toilet and throw up everything I had to eat today. Once that’sdone, I sag against the wall of the stall and breathe. My eyes close and I focus on what I have control over. What I know.

I’m standing here. I’m alive, and he’s not.

I haven’t had a full-blown panic attack like that in a long time. Well over a year. And it happened during a trauma where I’m being judged and graded. Awesome. With any luck, no one saw or noticed. I’m only a student. And most of the doctors and nurses in there know about me, so hopefully they’ll cut me some slack on my last day.

Baked goods are definitely in my future.

Exiting the stall, I turn on the faucet and pool cool water in my hands that I splash over my face and swish with some of the mouthwash they have here. I’m already feeling better, and now I just want to go home. I dry my face and head back to where the lockers are, muttering my variations of four.

“There are four great elements: earth, wind, water, and fire. The four Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.” I stumble to a stop. “Speaking of.”

I guess some people do pay attention to medical students. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always watching me. Even when he treats me as nothing more than a med student here, I feel him looking at me whenever we’re in the same space.

“There are four Symbols of Ching.”

I blink at him and blink again. “Come again?”

That’s what she said. I inwardly snicker, glad I’m able to make a lame joke, and by the way Jack’s lips barely twitch, I’m going to assume he was having the same inward thought.

“I took Chinese culture and history as an elective in college.”

“Uh, cool for you?”

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