Page 13 of Running Scared
Bailey, his heart tattered and useless, had seen his lover put in the ground… and had gone back to work that same day.
Because therewasnobody else who could do it.
And Bailey had already suffered his own monthlong battle with the deadly disease.
He’d been secretly hopinghe’ddrop dead too.
He obviously hadn’t, and he and Sarree and the other survivors of Outskirts General ER, 2020–21, had continued to forge the sort of bond psychologists usually only found in foxholes after world wars.
Absolutely inescapable.They’d fought together; they weren’t going fuckinganywhere.
Except Bailey’s dad was getting a little older, and Fort Stockton was farther away than Bailey liked, and the house his father lived in was falling down, and his only company was his dog.Bailey’s dad, who was a widower, had helped Bailey through med school working as a plumber and electrician and had always had Bailey’s back—always—and had called him every single morning after Emmett had passed away.Bailey suspected his dad had even gotten Cathy the golden retriever so he could text Bailey pictures of the dog being positively adorable when they weren’t able to visit and Bailey needed something, anything, to smile about.
Bailey’s dad deserved more than an impersonal retirement home, but he hated the city, and Bailey could see a moment of reckoning coming that he didn’t want to face.
And what COVID hadn’t been able to do, the Dobbs decisionhaddone.Many of the die-hard ER staff had begun to peel away a little at a time, many of them going places where they couldn’t get incarcerated for doing their jobs.
Bailey suspected the only reasonSarreehadn’t retired was because she worried about Bailey, and it occurred to him that she might be rooting for Bailey to find a mate here because then she’d know he’d be okay.
“I….”Oh, how embarrassing.“I got all huffy with him today,” Bailey told her.“Because, well, he’s great at gettingmeto talk, but he’s terrible at talking himself, and I accused him of being secretive, but….”
“You haven’t told him?”Sarree demanded.
Bailey winced.“I-I didn’t realize what a mess I still was,” he said at last.
“Baby,” she said softly, “you should tell him.It doesn’t make you a bad person if you don’t, but it will probably hurt his feelings.”
Trust Sarree to put it into perspective.Not unforgivable, but definitely addressable.
“Thanks, Sarree,” he said.“I….Thank you.”
“My husband has a little cottage on the Gulf ofMexico,” she said dreamily.“All the kids will be out next year and in college.He’s making plans to add a craft room with natural sunlight and to buy me one of those expensive quilting machines for a retirement present.”She gave his cheek a light pat.“I might start looking up sales.”
And with that she pivoted on her heel, and together they headed toward their patients.Bailey was left under no illusions that Sarree’s dreams rested on his narrow shoulders, and he owed it to her to meet any obstacle head-on.
Even the damage to his own heart.
THEIR MORNINGpassed relatively quickly.They did rounds, Bailey prescribed treatments, recommended discharges or admissions depending on the case, and triaged anything serious, such as broken bones or cuts that would need stitches, or in the case of a young construction worker who had fallen off his ladder, both, plus surgery.
He and Sarree made an effective team—he made the stat decisions, she directed the troops—and together they worked their way through the morning.At around two, when he normally would have taken his break, he realized he was being run off hisass.
“Oh myGod,” he muttered to Sarree.“Where the fuck is Vlade?”
Vlade Karkov was a new attending, recently transferred from somewhere up north.Neither SarreenorBailey knew him well—but then, he’d done his job crisply, efficiently, and without any particular emotion too.While it was true that the Outskirt’s ER was sort of a family, they tried to be a welcoming one, especially because they wanted tokeeppeople there and not lose them to states that weren’t trying to kill pregnant women on general principles.
They hadtriedto be friendly—they really had.
But Vlade had rebuffed their attempts and generally kept to himself, a thin-faced, severe-looking man in his early thirties with dark hair and a sour mouth, Bailey wasn’t sure if Vlade didn’t like gay people in general or Bailey in particular, but he always seemed to save an especially vile sneer for Bailey.
“Probably at the proctologist’s,” Sarree said grimly.“Lord knows, he needs that stick removed stat.”
Bailey grunted and rolled his eyes.“Agreed, but I could have sworn I saw him clock in.”
The computer where people logged in to their shifts was back by the crib, next to the vending machines with the good chocolate and the energy drinks on tap.
“I need to sign some charts,” Sarree said.“Get me a Monster and see if Vlade’s logged in yet.”
“Peach?”Bailey asked.
