Page 82 of Next in Line
The blow throws Sterling into a spinning half circle, and before I can scream, “Watch out,” Sterling falls straight back toward the wall, cracking the back of his head on an exhaust pipe.
“Sterling!” I exclaim, rushing over and dropping to my knees beside his limp body on the ground. I carefully lift his head off the ground, and my hand feels instant wetness.
I look up at Sam. “He’s bleeding.”
“Fuck,” Sam growls and rakes his hand through his hair.
Suddenly, Miles bursts through the back door, his eyes hitting Sam, then me, and then Sterling. “What happened?”
“Sterling hit his head on this pipe. We need to call an ambulance.”
Kate appears next, and she instantly whips out her phone. “I’m on it.”
“Sterling, are you okay?” I ask, my voice thick with anxiety. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
Sterling squints and stares up at me, his eyes glassing over in the blue light from up above.
“Sam, what the fuck happened?” Miles asks.
“I’m sorry,” Sam husks, his voice laced with regret. “I’m sorry for everything.”
I look up just in time to see Sam turn on his heel and run down the alley, leaving me behind with my brother, his girlfriend, and my bleeding ex-boyfriend.
There’s A Fine Line Between Fishing… And Standing On The Shore Like An Idiot
An hour later, I’m seated in the emergency room waiting area of the Boulder hospital with Kate on one side of me and Miles on the other. I keep looking nervously at my brother whose teeth are probably cracking from how hard he’s clenched his jaw since we arrived.
He hasn’t said a single word since the ambulance showed up to take Sterling away. And he refuses to even look at me. So basically my brother is a ticking time bomb, and he could detonate at any moment.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a man in blue scrubs come striding out of the double doors where they took Sterling when we arrived. He looks decidedly grumpy as he grabs a clipboard out of a slot.
“Hello, Dr. Dick,” Kate whispers into my ear.
I frown and shake my head at her and then flick my eyes to Miles.
Kate laughs softly. “I’m an erotic romance novelist, Maggie. Everyone is material for my imagination, and Dr. Dick over there might just be my next bestseller,” she whispers.
“Why are you calling him Dr. Dick?” I ask, puzzled.
“He looks angry,” she says, her eyes squinting at him objectively. “Look at his posture. He’s totally closed off and wants nothing to do with people. A male nurse probably just threw himself at him, and he had to reject him, which upset him because he hates communicating, and it’s been over a year since he got laid. Plus, you can totally see the outline of his dick in those scrub pants!”
My head turns to gape at her. “Kate!”
Her face twists. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s a weak plot. I’ll workshop it and get back to you.”
Suddenly, Dr. Dick calls out, “Maggie Hudson?”
“That’s me!” I exclaim, standing up out of my chair.
With a sullen frown, he makes his way over to me. “You came in with Sterling Fitzgibbons?” he asks.
“Yes, I did.”
“Okay. He’s going to be fine. He just came out of X-ray, and there are no signs of a concussion. We had to give him two stitches.”
“Two?” I ask, shocked by that small of a number. “Only two?”
He nods, his expression bored. “Head wounds are notorious for looking a lot worse than they are. Honestly, he could have driven himself in for the stitches.”
