Page 15 of Dr. Stone
Jake smirked in response with a slow, reluctant smile that made him look less like the untouchable chief surgeon and more like the guy I’d known for years. “I’ll find out. I’ve already bet Ash I would get you to break before she got Andie to break.”
“We’re going to fixate on that night? I’ve moved past it already. You’ve got to let this one go. I’m sorry it’s depressing for you, but you know I’m not committing to a relationship.”
“It’s what you say now, pretty boy,” he said. Then he turned toward his office, where he’d change into his scrubs, gather charts, and prep himself to speak with Mrs. Alberta’s family before the surgery.
He glanced at his watch, and when his eyes returned to mine, he was laser-focused. “Let’s get Ruth prepped. The heart will be arriving in thirty minutes?—”
“I thought they notified us it would be here at seven?”
“I got a call this morning saying the chopper would be here at six,” he said, “so the faster we get things moving, the faster we can get that failing heart out of her.”
“Amen to that,” I said, my nerves and mind following Jake’s lead, intently focused on a surgery that would give this beautiful soul a longer life.
“I’ll meet you in the surgical room after I speak with the family,” he said before we parted ways and focused on the extreme task ahead.
If everything went well with the transplant, and Ruth’s immune system didn’t argue with us, the procedure from start to finish would mean close to eight hours in surgery, and we’d be finished early afternoon.
The OR lights were blinding,reflecting off every surface—the scalpel in Jake’s hand, the steel instruments arranged in neat rows, and the exposed ribcage of Ruth Alberta. Everything about my current state was steady and completely cool. This is where I thrived, and Jake knew it. We worked so well together because he was the same way.
Jake Mitchell was a machine—calm, composed, unflinching. The guy was a goddamn legend in the OR, and I was privileged to be at his side as his second set of hands. We were both badass surgeons wired the same way. Confident. Controlled. Relentless.
“Vitals?” Jake’s voice was low and calm, in the commanding way that always made people listen.
“Stable,” Brianna Lopez, the surgical tech, answered, her eyes darting between the monitor and Ruth’s ashen face. “BP’s low but holding.”
The sounds of the ventilator filled the room—a rhythmic whoosh that kept everyone grounded, focused, and moving forward with intense calculation. It was the only sound besides the hum of the OR lights and the constant beep of Ruth’s failing heart.
Our surgical nurse, Lisa Tran, stepped forward and handed Jake the sternal saw. “Ready when you are, doctor.”
“Thank you,” Jake said, taking the saw while his eyes locked on Ruth’s chest.
He never once looked at me, and he didn’t need to. We’d been here before, through countless surgeries, hearts, and patients hanging on by a thread, all relying on both of us to work flawlessly together to be successful.
I watched Jake make the first cut, the saw biting through bone with a sickening crunch. Neither of us flinched as progress continued, and we worked toward getting this diseased heart out of Ruth.
I shifted closer, my eyes trained on Mrs. Alberta’s heart. It was shrunken and struggling, each beat weaker than the last. Paul Martin was the perfusionist assisting our surgical team with this transplant. He stood ready and waiting by the heart and lung machine, where his fingers were twitching like he was waiting for a green light.
Across from me, Dr. Reyes, the cardiologist assisting us on our carefully selected surgical team, watched Jake with a flash of intensity beneath his mask. Reyes was the only other guy in this room who could keep up with us, as sharp, fast, and confident as they came.
He was usually the one provoking Jake with random, half-ass jokes, always being a smartass and saying something that kept everyone loose. But not today. Today he followed the mood and tone Jake had set the moment he walked into the surgical room.
This case was close to all of us. We adored the woman for her bright outlook on life. She remained so positive until her kidneys started failing and she could no longer walk or do anything without assisted care. Her entire life was ebbing away, so we all joined forces, determined to do whatever we could to make this happen for her.
Jake finished the cut and handed the saw back to Lisa without a word. “Retractor.”
Lisa didn’t skip a beat, and I stepped in closer, my hands poised and ready.
“Think she’s going to dance again?” Reyes asked in a low voice.
My eyes stay locked on Ruth’s heart, watching its erratic, stuttering rhythm. “She told me last week that all she wants is to dance with her granddaughter again,” I said.
“Then we’re going to make damn sure she does,” Jake answered before leaning forward, his hands steady and eyes hard. “Okay. Let’s get her old heart out and get her new one beating.”
I nodded as a slow, confident smile curved beneath my mask. This was the moment Ruth had been waiting for. The one we were going to own.
Jake’s eyes met mine, and for a second, everything else faded away. It was just the two of us—two men who never lose in this room.
“You ready, Stone?”
