Page 15 of Tainted Blood

“Calis-ta,” Eva hisses my name.

“E-va,” I snap back at her. “Your jealousy is pathetic; so, leave me alone before I report you to HR.” She gasps and then walks away in a huff.

When I return to the emergency department, I’m swamped with both physical and mental tasks that make me forget about the man who was glaring at me. I’m completely wiped out by the time I go home to my apartment. I barely wash off the grime from the day and eat a bowl of cereal before collapsing on my bed. Tomorrow will be brutally fun. I have a twelve-hour shift after my class.

****

I’ve just returned to the hospital after my class. It’s one in the afternoon and the hospital is a little less chaotic, but there are still tons of people milling around, wanting answers. All of us med students have been assigned to a doctor and certain rooms.

“Ms. Vitale, you will be assisting me with the care of the patient in room six in ICU,” Dr. Fisher says. He’s one of the senior doctors on duty.

“What? Why me?” I’m not qualified to help patients in the ICU. We are only supposed to work in the ER.

“Because I’m not telling them anything that could upset them. As a young woman, they’ll take it easy on you. Besides, you’ll have the nurses there to assist,” Dr. Fisher says.

He hands me the chart on the tablet as we make our way to the ICU floor, which I read and then I gasp, quickly masking it. “As you can see, he’s one of the mobsters, and his family isn’t going to take it lightly if something happens.” Thankfully, he doesn’t grasp why I’m shocked by the name on the file: Ian MacNamara. My Ian, my only lover, the man who hasn’t left my mind over the past few weeks.

I review his medical records and he’s in stable condition, having had a four-hour surgery and one pint of blood from an AB+ donor. The doctor opens the door, and we enter the room where Ian isn’t conscious. “Has he awakened at all?”

“Yes. Briefly. It’s on the second page of the notes. Please review all of them. We’re going to check his vitals, and then we’ll examine his bandages to see if they need to be changed. Normally that’s the job of the nurses, but since you’ll need experience in all areas, it’s a good time to practice. He had three GSWs that left both entrance and exit wounds on his body.”

I read the surgical notes and saw that they were able to remove the bullets that didn’t exit his body. He’s extremely lucky because he should be dead. After checking the machines and doing a visual examination, we walked to the side of the room to not disturb Ian with our conversation.

“Should we attempt to wake him?” I ask. It’s not what I really want because I’m afraid of the backlash I’ll get for running out on him. God, I’ve relived that night so many times in my head, and I never thought that I’d ever see Ian again. This is definitely not the way I expected our paths to cross. He looks so vulnerable and yet so intensely powerful. Ian’s full lips are a bit chapped from the lack of fluids. I want to run an ice cube across them or maybe dig in my bag for my special lip balm. His dark hair is splayed out on the pillow, but I can see hints of blood on the side of his cheek.

“No. His vitals are steady, but please gather the materials to clean the wounds, and then I’ll be back to check your handiwork in a half an hour,” he says as if he’s unbothered by the situation.

“You’re not going to supervise?” I asked calmly, trying to come off polite instead of dismayed by his unprofessionalism.

“I have several other patients to check on, and frankly, I don’t give a fuck if something happens to men like this piece of shit.” Damn, that was harsh, and he hadn’t bothered to say it low enough for only my ears. It’s as if he wanted Ian to hear it as well. I understand that Dr. Fisher doesn’t like him, and he has good reason, but I still want to kick him in the shin for speaking about Ian like that.

“What about his family?” I question, hoping that I won’t run into his brother I saw at the club. If I do, hopefully he won’t remember what I look like. After all, it was dark, and I was dressed up.

“If they ask, tell them he’s lucky to be alive and they should let him rest. Maybe leave him here so someone can finish the job.”

“Doctor,” I hiss. I can’t believe he just said that. I want to report him, but that’s just pointless because it would be my word against his and sure as hell, I would be tossed out.

“I’m just kidding.” He smirks, but I doubt that’s the case. I read him loud and clear. Dr. Fisher has it out for Ian, and I wonder if it’s more than just Ian’s profession. After all, people like Ian keep Dr. Fisher in business. It’s wrong, but I hate the way he spoke about my…well…my former lover.

As he leaves, I return to Ian’s side, checking on his vitals. In reality, I can’t take my eyes off him. Even in this terrible condition, he’s still so beautiful and masculine. I gently brush my fingers through his blood soaked, matted hair. Although he was shot in the chest, he must have sat in a pool of his own blood because it’s still in his beautiful, dark locks.

I go into the closet in his room and grab some washcloths, wetting one and gently wipe the blood out of his hair, doing my best to clean it. The soft touch is a bad idea because I’m still so attracted to him. Remembering to do my job, I exit the room for just a moment to get the supplies to reapply the bandages.

Chapter Eight

Ian

My eyes are heavy, and my body feels like I’ve gotten into another damn motorcycle accident. Although, the first one I was in didn’t feel this brutal. I squint several times, hoping to get a clear view of my surroundings. The haze fades as my entire body wakes up. Still, I’m unable to figure out where I am.

The light is harsh on my eyes and it’s giving me a blinding headache, so I close them again and groan.

“Oh my goodness, you’re awake, Mr. MacNamara. It’s a wonderful thing.” I swear my ears are playing tricks on me because I recognize that soft, milky tone.

“Excuse me, but who are you, and where am I?” I ask, needing clarification because I’m still not seeing clearly, but her voice is so damn identifiable that my heart rate spikes. Opening my eyes several times, I can make out her features, and I wonder if I’m fucking dreaming because she can’t be here.

She dips her head briefly, her lips tightening. I’ve embarrassed her, but I’m the one in the vulnerable state.

“I’m sorry, Mr. MacNamara. You’re at the hospital, and I am studying to be a doctor, so I’ve been assigned to your room,” she admits. I blink several times and now the image of her is clear as day. Damn it—all this searching, and all I needed to do was nearly die.

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