Page 66 of The Devil's Wrath

He followed willingly, his fingers laced with mine.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, both of us still groggy from sleeping through the day. He reached over and took my hand, rubbing circles on my skin with his thumb.

As he approached the emergency department entrance, I turned to him with a small smile. “Thank you. I get off at 7:30. Can you come and get me? If not, I can call an Uber or catch a ride from a coworker.”

“I’ll be waiting right here,” he replied with a wink. “Now go save some lives, superhero.”

I laughed and leaned in for a quick kiss before hopping out of the car. I walked through the sliding doors and could feel his eyes on me. I glanced back and blew him a kiss before he drove off into the night.

The emergency department was bustling with activity. Nurses and doctors rushed about, tending to patients in various states of distress. I quickly went to the locker room, dropped my bag off, and headed to the nurse’s station for report.

“Thank god you’re here,” my charge nurse, Sarah, greeted me with a harried expression. “We’ve got a full house tonight, and we’re short-staffed. You’re in trauma bay three. Lily is stuck bedside with a bowel obstruction, so it will just be you for a bit until she can get him down to the OR.”

“Awesome.” I rolled my eyes playfully. Quickly scanning the charts, I took note of the patients’ conditions and treatment plans as I walked briskly toward the trauma bay. As I entered, I was met with a flurry of movement. A doctor, two nurses, and a respiratory therapist surrounded a young man who had been in a serious car accident. The patient was unconscious, his face bruised and bloodied. I jumped right in, assessing his injuries and vital signs. He had multiple lacerations, suspected pneumothorax, and a possible spinal cord injury.

“Wrenly, thanks for coming in.” The attending gave me anappreciative smile. “I need you to start a second IV line and hang a unit of O-negative blood.”

“On it,” I replied, swiftly gathering my supplies. My hands worked deftly, starting an IV and connecting the blood, a familiar routine in the chaos of the trauma bay.

In his mid-fifties, Dr. Michaels was one of my favorite doctors on the unit. He had worked with my brother for several years, so he’d taken me under his wing when he’d found out who I was. I attributed my calmness under pressure to him and the knowledge he had bestowed upon me.

“BP’s dropping, 80/40,” I called out as I watched the monitors.

“Pressure bag another unit of saline,” Dr. Michaels instructed. I moved quickly, sliding the fluids into the pressure bag and hanging it.

“Check his pupils. I’m worried about a possible head injury.”

I grabbed my penlight and leaned over the patient, carefully opening his eyelids. His pupils were unequal and sluggish to respond. “Left pupil is blown, and the right is sluggish,” I reported, a knot forming in my stomach.

This was a bad sign.

Dr. Michaels frowned. “Okay, let’s get him up to CT. Call radiology and let them know we’re on our way.”

I nodded and quickly made the call as the rest of the team prepared to move the patient. We rushed him out of the trauma bay and into the elevator. There was only room for a few of us plus the patient, so I took over respiratory duties. I squeezed the Ambu bag and breathed for the patient as we ascended to the radiology floor.

The CT scan confirmed our fears—a massive intracranial hemorrhage. The neurosurgeon was paged, and the patient was whisked off to the operating room. I let out a heavy sigh as I watched them disappear down the hall. It never got easier, seeing young lives teetering so close to death.

Just as I made it back to the ED, another trauma rolled in—a woman who had been stabbed multiple times. I rushed over to assist, applying pressure to her wounds as the others worked to assess the extent of her injuries.

The night continued like this, one critical patient after another. I barely had a moment to catch my breath. By the time 7:30 a.m. rolled around, I was exhausted, my scrubs splattered with blood and other bodily fluids.

I finished my charting and gave report to the oncoming shift before heading to the locker room. Every muscle in my body ached as I peeled off my soiled scrubs and tossed them into the laundry bin. I longed for a hot shower, but that would have to wait until I got home. For now, I settled for splashing some cold water on my face and changing into a clean set of scrubs from my locker.

The crisp night air hit my face as I exited the hospital, providing a much-needed refresh. As promised, Theo was waiting for me, leaning against his blacked-out Lexus with a soft smile. I grinned and made my way over to him. His strong arms wrapped around me, and I inhaled his calming scent.

“Hey, you,” he greeted me. “Rough night?” he asked, sensing my weariness.

I nodded against his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. “You have no idea. I’m so ready to go home and crawl into bed.”

He kissed the top of my head and opened the passenger’s door for me. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

I smiled gratefully and slid into the seat, sinking into the soft leather. He got in beside me and took my hand, gently squeezing it as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

The drive home was a blur, my eyelids growing heavier each minute. He must have noticed because he reached over and gently stroked my cheek. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll wake you when we get home.” I leaned into his touch, my eyes fluttering closed. The next thing I knew, he was gently shaking me awake. “We’re home.”

I blinked, disoriented momentarily before realizing we were parked outside my house. He came to my side and opened the door, helping me out. His arm slipped around my waist, supporting my exhausted body as we made our way inside. Once I crossed the threshold, I kicked off my shoes and padded straight to the bedroom, Theo following close behind. Stripping off my scrubs, I crawled under thecovers in just my underwear, too tired to bother with a shower or pajamas. The last thing I remembered before sleep claimed me was the feeling of his lips pressing a gentle kiss to my temple.

I awoketo the smell of coffee and bacon. I stretched, my muscles aching and my stomach growling. Theo’s side of the bed was empty, but the aroma wafting from the kitchen told me exactly where he was. I slipped out of bed, putting on a T-shirt and shorts before following the enticing scent. And that was where I found him, standing at the stove, wearing only a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants. His back was to me, and I took a moment to admire how his muscles rippled under his tattooed skin as he moved. The sight of him, domestic and at ease in my kitchen, filled me with a warmth that had nothing to do with the sizzling bacon.

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