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"Alright, brother, slowly remove your hand for me," I tell Breaker, and he nods, doing as I command with a shaky hand. Blood pours from the wound.
I inspect the cut, not worried about the blood; head wounds always bleed badly. I gently poke around the area, and anger instantly hits me at how deep it is.
I snap, "What the fuck happened? He's going to need a head CT and stitches." I notice Breaker glare at my sister and…of course. I chuckle darkly with disappointment. "Of course, Lola wants what she wants, not caring about others again. Let me guess, she blocked your view of him?"
Breaker nods, and I growl, gently guiding his hand back to the wound as Lola sniffles.
"I didn't do this. He fell."
I growl again.
When in the fuck is she going to learn that a brother doesn’t want her, that Breaker doesn’t want her?
Dammit, she fucks married men, for Christ’s sake!
She needs to fucking grow up. The way she’s treating the woman who raised us, the way she’s treated Quinn, and now this.
I shake my head as Dad states, "Which most likely wouldn't have happened if you hadn't stood in Breaker's view of his son playing. Go home now, Lola. We'll discuss your actions over these past few years later, because this shit is stopping!"
My jaw ticks, but I try to calm the anger inside. "All right, brother, pick him up, and let's get him to the hospital."
He nods and gently lifts Noah as he cries for Quinn. When we get near Dad, I hear Breaker rasp, "Dad, call momma, please."
My eyes tear up because he’s finally made that step, claiming my father as his.
Breaker fucking loved his dad and looked up to him, and knowing he’s giving my dad that title…. Fuck, I’m proud of him.
As we walk out of the club to the truck, I whisper, “I’m proud of you, brother,” making him nod at me with so much emotion…. I head to my newly repaired bike, hoping like fuck the CT comes out clear.
The next day, I’m dog-tired. I spent the night in the on-call room, wanting to be close to Noah, even though I know he’s alright. I had to sedate him to stitch up his wound, shaving some of his hair off, before giving him a head CT, which showed no cranial bleeding. With the way the cut is shaped, I believe he cut it on the ladder rather than banging his head on the ground, which is good.
Everyone knew I wasn’t on shift and was only there for my nephew. Didn’t stop the nurses from asking for my help at two this morning after a three-car pile-up. One person died on scene and a ten-year-old died on my triage table.
Shitty fucking night.
Groaning, I stretch my back and grab my doctor's coat, before slipping the files of the patients I’ve seen this morning into their respective folders. Now, I’m ready to see the little man, if he’s finally awake.
Quinn came in yesterday, and finally, fucking finally, she and Breaker are back on track. Apparently, her father, who is an attending here at the hospital, screwed a nurse once. When Quinn was seven, she walked in on her dad cheating on his wife. Since then, she’s been about as anti-commitment as possible. It didn’t help that Quinn’s mom, in an attempt to hurt her husband, faked a suicide attempt. Unfortunately, Quinn walked in on that, too, which only made her hatred of relationships that much stronger.
I shake my head, and walk to the children’s ward.
I tried calling Kennedy last night to tell her about Noah, but the phone didn’t ring. I feel like I’ve lost her, and if that’s the case, she can expect a knock at her door. I’d give up everything for her, including my patch.
As I walk out of the elevator, I text Tech.
Me: Anything?
I stop for a minute, waiting for his reply. It’s been nearly a year, and still nothing. We need that fucking footage.
He messages back as I walk out of the elevator, and hope builds in my chest at his words.
Tech: She’s been texting a number, asking if they still have the evidence, and I’m working on getting details.
Fucking finally.
I grin wide, hope building as I walk into Noah’s room, only to stop in shock. My heart pounds as I look from her sneaker-covered feet, up her slim legs, over her small waist, and the black dress that hugs her nicely. I move my eyes past her breasts, taking in her hair, which has blue tips that fucking suit her, and her rosy lips, which I dream about, before my gaze meet hers for the first time in a year.
I think I stop breathing.
