Page 194 of Colt

I’d never seen such chaos. There’d been another road traffic collision on the other side of town, and the local hospital—ironically, the same one I was meant to interview at—was getting slammed.

“Freya, stay focused!” Harry ordered, snapping me back to reality as we guided the stretcher through some double doors. “We’re losing him. Start CPR.” He slowed the stretcher down. “Get on and start work.”

“Oh my God,” I cried. “You want me to start CPR now?”

“You want him to die?” he retorted. “Get moving.”

My palms began to sweat as I clambered onto the stretcher, straddling the guy who had been driving the truck, and checking his airways. Tilting his chin up, I breathed down his throat, then, when his lungs were full, I pulled back and began chest compressions.

“Again!” Harry ordered.

I repeated the process, holding my breath as Harry pushed us through another set of double doors into a large, busy ER. Cubicles were lined around the outside of the vast space, leaving the middle free for equipment. The chaos faded into the background as I worked on my patient. The sharp tang of disinfectant filled my nostrils, grounding me as continued CPR.

“Got a pulse,” Harry confirmed, pressing his fingers against the patient’s neck.

My shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank God,” I said, as if to myself. I hadn’t lost a patient yet. This day had already gone down as one of the worst. The last thing I needed was a death. Hadn’t life already screwed with me enough today?

Looking around the ER, I caught the eye of a tall, good-looking doctor. His hair was cropped close to his head, his muscles straining against the material of his blue scrubs. His blue eyes flicked over me, straddling the patient and his brows shot up to his hairline as he moved toward us.

“Status report,” he demanded.

I started chest compressions again. “Male in his fifties, involved in a vehicle collision, had a heart attack at the scene.” I pressed down hard on the patient’s chest. “We lost him in the rig and got him back, but he started to crash again outside.”

The doctor’s lips twitched, amusement dancing in his eyes, despite the gravity of the situation. “And is there a particular reason you’re riding the lucky fucker?” He asked. “’Cause if he wakes up and sees you sitting on him, it’ll kill him off for sure.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, embarrassment making me internally wince. It wasn’t exactly the time for humor, but even I could recognize how absurd I must’ve looked.

I got up on my knees and threw a leg back, scrambling down off the stretcher. “I guess it does look bizarre,” I muttered.

The doctor barked a laugh. “You can’t call yourself a doctor until you’ve done chest compressions while riding a gurney.” His stare flicked down me then up again, resting on my face. “Who the fuck are you anyway?” He slid his stethoscope from around his neck and began pressing it to the patient’s chest, checking his heartbeat.

“Freya Stone,” I replied. “I was supposed to interview here today for the internship with Doctor Locke,” I nodded to the patient, “but as you can see, I got caught up and missed it.”

A slow grin stole across the man’s face. He stepped forward and stretched his hand out toward me. “Grayson Locke,” he announced. “But everyone around here calls me Bones.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed, rubbing my forehead, humiliation making my cheeks scarlet. “Can this day get any worse?”

Bones studied me for a moment, his blue eyes taking in the sweat that clung to my brow, and no doubt the desperation coming off me in waves. I braced for him to tell me I may as well turn around and fuck off back from where I came. I wouldn’t have blamed him; I must’ve looked ridiculous.

But instead, a slow grin crept across his face. “You’re hired.”

I blinked again, the words weaving around my confused brain. “I’m hired?”

“Wait!” He held his hand up. “First tell me, are you one of those really smart young students who can recite a medical journal but can’t take a piss without someone holding your hand?”

I studied him, wondering what planet he’d landed from. “I can take a piss just fine.”

He laughed. “Right. See you Monday at oh seven hundred. Get Mommy to pack you a lunch because you’ll be eating on the go. I’ve got five surgeries back-to-back, and you’re gonna be in charge of the scalpel. Don’t be late.”

Bones turned his back to me, barking at a nurse to page a cardiothoracic surgeon and get the patient ready for surgery. His steps faltered and he turned to address me again.

“Get your ass up to HR. They’re expecting you.” He waggled his eyebrows at me before saying the words that made my stomach flip excitedly for the first time in weeks. “Welcome to Virginia. You better hold on tight, baby Doc. We’re gonna have a blast.”

Forty-five minutes later—still dazed and confused from my bizarre exchange with Bones—I walked out of my new place of work and was immediately hit by the afternoon sun.

The heat enveloped me like a lover’s embrace, soothing away the tension that had built up in my body after my crazy morning. I tilted my chin up, wallowing in the warmth of the orange glow, and smiled.

In my heart, I knew this was my place and that Bones would be an important person in my life. Not romantically—no, I belonged to Colt, there was no question of that—but Bones would be the one to make me a doctor, someone I’d look up to.

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