Page 5 of Vows of Betrayal

I’d barely slipped on a gown when the ER doors burst open. A very bloody, very pale adult male was rolling in on a gurney.

Yeah.

If I had to take a guess, I’d say he already had one foot in the grave. Poor guy.

As they pushed him by me, his eyes landed on mine.

The patient’s eyes—

Gosh.

He had the most beautiful, sparkling eyes I’d ever seen.

Even though it had only been for a fleeting moment—it felt like that had somehow changed my life forever.

I hurried behind the hubbub. The paramedics yelled out certain key numbers regarding the patient’s vitals.

And none of them were good.

Gosh.

The poor guy didn’t have a hope.

That made me even sadder than it originally had. Seeing the patients was different than just hearing about them.

But there was something about how this guy stared at me—that I couldn’t explain.

Once he was in a room, the nurses cut his bloodied and stained clothes off. And gosh, the guy was hot. I mean, for an almost dead dude who had about five minutes of life left in him.

He was older. I’d say mid to late thirties. He was lean, but still very muscular.

It was just too bad that he wasn’t going to be around much longer. I bet he was a force to be reckoned with—or was a force to be reckoned with.

The doctor and nurses zoomed around, getting him fluids and trying like heck to stop the bleeding.

So, so, so much blood.

“Multiple casualties incoming. Huge crash on the Kennedy Expressway.” One of the nurses poked his head into our room. “They’ll be here in five minutes.”

The resident peered up at the nurse and said, “We’ll be done in here by then.” From the doctor’s obvious tone, I knew he figured this guy’s case was hopeless.

But those eyes—those dark eyes found mine. And I swore he was begging me to help him. But what could I do? If the doctor had already written him off, then there wasn’t likely anything that I could possibly do.

His hand flexed at his side like he was—asking me to hold it.

Which was pretty stupid.

I mean, I didn’t even know the guy. Why would he want me to hold his hand?

Whatever it was, though, I couldn’t help it. He drew me to him without even saying a thing. I stepped up to the side of the bed and grabbed his wet, cold, clammy hand. It was sticky with blood. But for some reason, I didn’t care.

For a dying guy, he had a really good grip.

I gazed down into his terrified face. And it felt like he’d reached inside and squeezed my heart.

I didn’t know this man, but he had some kind of weird hold over me that I didn’t understand.

“Everyone out of the way. We’re going to take X-rays!” the resident yelled as someone rolled the portable machine into the room.

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