Page 7 of Savage Seduction

Doesn’t take long, and I’m called back into another surgery. This one is a middle-aged man with multiple fractures and internal bleeding. The team moves like a well-oiled machine, each of us playing our part. The minutes blur together, and I lose myself in the rhythm of the work. First, stop the internal bleeds. Next, stabilize the shattered femur with a series of screws and titanium plates. He’ll need another surgery on this leg, maybe two. Right now, it was about saving his life, later he’ll need to worry about walking again.

When we finally finish, I step back, my body aching with fatigue. I strip off my gloves and head to the break room, hoping for a moment of respite. Collapsing into a chair, I let out a long breath, as I sip on nearly day-old coffee. Bitter and room temperature. Exactly the opposite of what I prefer.

I pull out my phone, checking for messages. Nothing.

The break room door opens, and Doctor Piper walks in, looking just as tired as I feel. “Long night, huh?” he says, sinking into a chair across from me.

“Yeah,” I reply, forcing a smile. “Seems like it never ends.”

He nods, rubbing his eyes. “You think you’ll leave before sun-up?”

Shaking my head, I look down at my hands, the skin still puckered from too many hours in latex gloves. “Doubt it.”

“Same,” he says. “This accident is for the record books. Nearly thirteen dead, thirty-eight severely injured, and who the fuck knows how many superficially.”

“Damn,” I say. “Unbelievable”

“Incredible is an understatement.”

I nod, feeling a swell of pride. Not just in myself, but my mind quickly thinks back to Max and how he single-handedly saved that girl from the burning car. The image of him fighting the flames, his determination, his strength, it’s etched into my mind.

The doctor stands up, stretching. “Well, back to the grind. See you out there.”

“Yeah, see you,” I say, watching him leave.

I sit for a moment longer, letting the exhaustion wash over me. The memory of Max’s bravery gives me the strength to stand up and head back into the fray. The night is far from over, and there are more lives to save. But in the back of my mind, there’s a glimmer of hope, a flicker of excitement. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll hear from Max.

The hours drag on, a relentless march of time filled with the cries of the injured and the hum of medical machinery. Finally, as dawn begins to break, the stream of patients slows. The chaos begins to ebb, leaving a weary calm in its wake. I finish my last round, checking on the patients we’ve managed to save. The hospital is a patchwork of relief and sorrow, lives changed forever in the span of a single night.

I head to the locker room, stripping off my scrubs before stepping into the staff showers. A few squirts of bodywash and shampoo are quickly able to scrub away the smell of the night, but my heart feels heavy. It’s more than fatigue. It’s more than simply being disappointed I haven’t heard back from Max. As I step out of the shower, towel dry my hair, and glance into themirror, I see a reflection of fatigue and determination. Despite my typical healthy, toned physique, I see a bit more rib than I’m used to and think back to the large plate of Mexican food I never got to eat. My stomach grumbles reminding me I have not eaten in nearly twelve hours.

It’s been a long night, but we made it through. I made it through. Turning back to the locker, I quickly put on my street clothes and close the door. Whatever was nagging at my mind earlier in the night hasn’t left me, but I am truly too tired to care about it—right now, anyway.

CHAPTER 4

Max

Isling my heavy school bag over my shoulder and high step it toward the entrance to the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County. The iconic building that houses many of humanity’s treasures stands tall and regal against the clear darkening skies. The stone pillars and detailed Beaux-Arts Neoclassical, Romanesque architecture are both impressive and timeless. The building itself is considered a piece of art worthy of the many accolades it has received over the century since it was constructed. There isn’t anything quite like stepping through the doors to this magnificent building that soothes my soul—helps me forget about the crazy shit going on outside.

There isn’t a set time I need to be at work tonight as I normally don’t work overnight unless there’s a new exhibit coming to town. Tonight, it just so happens to be the new King Tutankhamun Exhibition. A year ago, the Cairo Museum had agreed to loan the antiquities to a select few established and vetted museums around the world. LACNHM had been fourth on the list and proud of it. Infact, the museum had put so much money into the advertising, everything had to be perfect, or heads would roll.

As I approach the stone stairway leading to the entrance, I see Bob Garman, a short, bald, heavy-set man in his early sixties. The man is the head of security and a total asshole. I check the time on my watch and breathe a sigh of relief. I have three minutes left before Bob locks up for the evening. As long as I’m there before that, I won’t have to wait for Bob to come unlock the door. When that happens, it always ends with me catching a bunch of shit for getting to the museum after hours and making more work for the lazy head security guard.

I take two steps at a time. “Bob,” I say with as much civility as I can muster. “Nice to see you this evening.”

“Sure.” Bob opens the door and lets me pass. He then follows me inside and slams the door shut, locking it manually before setting the alarm with the electronic keypad near the door. “Some guy came by looking for you today.”

“Really?”Who could that be?

“Yeah,” Bob says and starts walking away.

“Are you going to tell me his name?” God, this guy is such a jerk.

“I didn’t ask for his name. Whatever salacious thing you’re into is none of my business. Just don’t rub it in my face.”

Ah, this is a gay thing. I’ve always known Bob disliked me from the beginning because I’m gay, but I’d hoped to never have to confront him on it. “Dude, I can assure you whoever came to see me has nothing to do with my personal life.” I don’t even have a personal life, not that I wouldn’t love one… maybe Ben would be someone worth my time and effort?

“Sure, whatever you say.” Bob rolls his eyes.

---