Page 1 of Running Scared
What is That and What is it Doing
“EIGHT YEARSto get through med school,” Bailey Dodge muttered through a bite of donut, “three years of residency, two as an attending, and this is my life.”
The potential human traffic jam that was Outskirts General Hospital seethed around him as he struggled into his lab coat and tried to remember if he’d brushed his teeth that morning.The myth of the well-off doctor growing fat and avuncular in family practice was drifting further and further away with every minute spent in this hellhole.
But Bailey couldn’t seem to quit the ER.
He’d tried.When the hospital had made cutbacks, he’d tried.When threatened—both in job and in freedom—for administering lifesaving care to pregnant women, he’d tried.When three of his interns had been forced to quit because they felt the same way but they hadn’t had tenure, he’d tried.
But there were people here—good people.Nurses, janitors, orderlies, who seemed to depend on him to run in, lab coat flapping, to try to make sense of the terrible chaos of human tragedy that was life in a busy ER.
But God, he was tired.His head ached from lack of sleep, his feet ached from being on them for so long, hisbodyached because, well, he hadn’t been touched inforever.But there’d been a pileup out by Manor, and Outskirts General got all that action rather than nearby—but still twenty minutes or so away—Austin.
“What do we got, Sarree,” he asked Sarah Wilson, his charge nurse.She’d been the one to catch the call from dispatch, alerting them to incoming ambulances and pulling him out of his nap in the intern’s cot room because he was shorthanded and working a double.
“Sorry to get you for this, Bail,” she said crisply, but yes, genuinely apologetic.“It sounded like a complete goat rodeo, but there’s apparently only a few injuries, two of them minor.They’re in the open cubicles, each with their own G-man attached.
“G-man?”Bailey asked, eyebrows up.
“Part of some weird smuggling thing?”She sounded genuinely baffled.“All I know is that there was a showdown between semitrucks, and the only reason it wasn’t an absolute bloodbath is that your guy in Room 3A can—and I’m quoting two state troopersandthe G-men here—‘really fuckin’ drive.’”
Bailey stared at Sarree in surprise.A sturdy Black woman with the mind of a military general, Sarree Wilson could be warm with her family, and he’d seen her crack a rare smile when he’d workedreallyhard for one, but she was raised church right, and almost never,everswore.
“Really?”he asked.
“Do Ilooklike I’m kidding?”she demanded.“Here I was, rousingyoufrom a much-needed sleep and calling for a stock up on bandages and blood, when half the state troopers in Austin stalk in, G-men on their tails, and they are absolutely gobsmacked.And the guy in 3A doesn’t have a spot of blood on him.”
“What’s he got?”
She grimaced.“We took him for X-rays and a CT, but it’s looking like a whole lot of soft-tissue damage and bruising.Apparently his semishouldhave jackknifed and gone over, but this guy pulled every muscle in his body keeping it upright.”
“Damn,” Bailey said.“Sounds impressive.”
“It was,” said a crisp voice with the faintest—oh so faint—of California accents.“I would appreciate it if….”The voice faltered for a moment as Bailey made contact with a startling pair of brownish-hazel eyes.There was a deep breath as Bailey tried to restart his heart, and the G-man—he had to be, although he was wearing khakis and a collared shirt—in front of him resumed talking.
“I would appreciate it if you took special care of him,” said the surprisingly young agent.“On top of being brave and, yes, sparing your ER a lot of bloody casualties, he is also my brother, and while he’s a pain in my ass, my parents would be most upset if his head popped off because he stalwartly refused to tell us it hurt.”
Bailey found his lips curving into a surprised smile.“One of those,” he said, with a nod of understanding.The young G-man was just… just so beautiful, it was hard to remember he was talking like a professional.The last time he’d been nearly stunned into submission by nice eyes and a stoic demeanor it had been….
Oh, he couldn’t think about that.No, no, he couldn’t.
“It is said,” the agent intoned with some disgruntled dignity, “that we are a lot alike.I have no idea if it’s true, but we aredrownedin family who insist upon it.”He stuck out his hand.“Special Agent Dean Royal.My brother Val is your patient.Right this way.”
And then the handsome little shit—and hewashandsome, with dark hair doing the clean-cut G-man thing and a balanced, well-proportioned nose and chin, as well as cheekbones todiefor—actually gestured to Bailey to follow himin Bailey’s own hospital.
The absolute gall of the man would have had Bailey stuttering, only Sarree had just handed him Val Royal’s X-Rays and CT scan, and Bailey actually had a job to do.
“How’s it look?”Special Agent Royal asked, unabashedly peering over Bailey’s shoulder.
Bailey yanked his hand away, bemused by all this…chutzpahas well as unsettled by that much closeness.“Itlookslike your brother’s business,” he said shortly.“Have you never heard of HIPAA laws?”
Dean Royal grunted.“Yes, I have heard of HIPAA, but now that you’ve heard of the Royal family, you will understand why none of that applies.While you go talk to Val, I need to go report to my mother, and if I don’t have some specifics and stats, she willfly from Bakersfieldto make sure her baby is okay.My parents are not rich, and if that’s an unnecessary trip, I would prefer she not make it.”He rolled his eyes, seeming a little embarrassed.“Besides, it appears as though my asshole brother has finally met an equal asshole, and he might actually getlaidand becomelessof an asshole, but only if heis not dying.”
Bailey blinked.“Wow, you weren’t kidding about your family, were you?”
“No.I never exaggerate,” Dean Royal said, without the faintest touch of humor.“I haveneverexaggerated, and I am not exaggerating about this.”
Next to him, Sarree made a sound like a cat strangling on its own tongue, and Bailey wondered if she’d fallen in love a little.
