Lincoln Hospital (Trauma #1)

by Cassia Brightmore

  “Are you with us here, Payne?” Realizing she’d been caught staring into space, she blushed and quickly turned her attention back to the man calling out the roll call. His annoyed expression relayed that she really was blowing her chance at a good first impression. She’d have to work extra hard to prove she wasn’t an airhead.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Now as I was saying, I’m Dr. Murphy, the Chief of Surgery.” Hearing those words, Athena’s heart sank. The Chief? This was the Chief and she’d not only been late, she’d been caught daydreaming like a five-year-old child. Just fucking great. “I’ll be splitting you up into groups of six and then you’ll be meeting the residents that you’ll be working under for the next year of your internship. Your residents are your Gods; you’re to listen to them and if you want my advice, make them as damn happy as you can. They will have the deciding vote on when you finally get to step foot inside an OR for the first time.”

  The room fell silent as soon as he mentioned the word ‘surgery’, with all eyes pinned to him. It was the nature of the beast, interns were known to be blood-thirsty; craving the scalpel and the chance to get in on the action in the OR. Surgery was one of the most competitive occupations out there, there was no telling what one of your co-workers would do just to get their feet in that room. It was cutthroat, brutal and cost people friendships. Horror stories and rumors were spread everyday of underhanded tactics that doctors stooped to just to be the chosen one to make that cut.

  “Adams, Payne, Sullivan, Barton, Tucker, Breyers. You’ll be with Dr. Webster. Pick up your pagers there,” he motioned towards the table, “if you haven’t already done so.” A pointed look in their direction with that comment, caused Athena to blush once again. “Your lockers have already been assigned.”

  There was a small flurry of activity as pagers were picked up and belongings stored away in lockers. Athena pulled out the white lab coat hanging in hers and took a moment to run her fingers over the embroidery over the left breast. Dr. Athena Payne, M.D., seeing her name associated with those two very important letters filled her with a sense of accomplishment, of belonging. She’d actually done it. Finished medical school and was about to embark on the first step in the journey to making all her dreams come true. Despite all the obstacles, all the endless nights studying and cramming, she’d made it. Now it was her time to shine.

  “Payne, Adams, hang on a second,” the Chief called out to them as they headed out the door. With a sinking feeling, Athena turned back and offered the Chief a small smile. Sabine’s sigh could be heard from the Statue of Liberty and it took all of her effort to not smack her on the back of the head to get her to shut up and not get them in any more trouble.

  “Yes, Chief?” she asked.

  “Being accepted into this program at this hospital is not only an accomplishment, it’s an honor. We receive applications from across the country from thousands of intern hopefuls. We are the most competitive, we house some of the best surgeons in the field and when completing this program, our residents go on to accept some of the most prestigious placements. To be chosen is a privilege, not a right and it’s not something either of you should be taking for granted.” He let the weight of his words fall on their shoulders, his hard blue eyes locked on both of them before continuing. “Do not be late tomorrow. If you aren’t here to be serious, there are quite a number of people that didn’t get your spot that would be happy to take it.” He turned on his heel and left them in locker room without another word.

  Athena covered her face with her hands and let out a loud groan. “Oh, my God, Sab, this is a disaster! The Chief hates us already! And did you see all the smirks and giggles from the other interns, we’re laughingstocks.”

  “Oh, stop. Those lamebrains are just jealous. So maybe we’ve annoyed the Chief, but look on the bright side—he knows our names already and there’s no bad in that,” she linked their arms and dragged Athena from the locker room, refusing to let the situation get to her.

  Once in the hall, they met up with the other interns that had been assigned to their resident.

  Bianca Sullivan, Richard Barton, Clarence Tucker, and Oscar Breyers were the other interns they’d been paired with, Athena had learned after glimpsing their names on the Chief’s tablet when he was lecturing them. The group of four stood impatiently waiting for Athena and Sabine to join them. Bianca was a tall, dark-skinned beauty who had her thick black hair gathered up in a bun on top of her head. Black rimmed glasses perched on her nose as she watched them approach. She opened her mouth to speak, but the guy to her right beat her to the punch.

  “You’re lucky we waited for you. I didn’t want to, but she,” he hooked a thumb at Bianca, “insisted.” Bianca huffed and offered a hand to each of them.

  “Don’t listen to this idiot. We’re all going to be working together so might as well start off on the right foot. I’m Bianca.” Athena offered her a friendly smile in return.

  “Thanks, Bianca. I’m Athena and this is Sabine.” Clarence and Oscar introduced themselves and Athena took an instant liking to Clarence. With his dark hair and warm brown eyes, he instantly put her at ease with his laid-back attitude and open reception. Oscar was the quietest of the bunch. A little on the short and heavy side, he reminded her of the kid who was always picked last for the team which immediately endeared him to Athena. He seemed like a sweet boy and she hoped that he’d be able to find the inner strength he’d need to survive in a surgical program.

  Richard was an all around asshole and her dislike of him was immediate. His disposition left a bad taste in her mouth and if he leered at her chest one more time she was certain to simultaneously stomp on his foot and punch him in the nose to get him to back off. Finally giving in and introducing himself to the group, he stepped way too close into her space, causing her to frown at him.

  “I’m Richard. You can call me, Dick.” Sabine snickered beside her and Athena shot her a warning glance to keep quiet when she saw her mouth open to deliver what would no doubt have been a snide remark about his nickname. Sabine sulked, but otherwise remained silent.

  “Well, Dick, it’s nice to meet you. Sorry if we caused you any sort of inconvenience,” Athena forced a smile before giving him her back. “Not sorry at all, you bully,” she muttered under her breath. She caught Clarence’s eye and he grinned at her, letting her know he heard her comment and approved. With the exception of Dick, they had a good group paired up. Now, with a little luck they’d have a decent resident and the rough start to her first day would take a turn for the better.

  “These must be my interns.” All six heads turned at the sound of someone speaking from behind them. A pissed off red-head stood a few feet away glaring at them. The name on her lab coat read Dr. Faye Webster, M.D.

  Shit. This was their resident and she’d had to track them down. There went her hopes for the first day improving.

  “I’d ask you why I had to come to you, but you’re interns which means you have rocks where your brains should be and therefore I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t have any sense.” Her black heels clicked on the tiled floor as she closed the distance between them, showcasing her shapely legs in a slim pencil skirt and stockings.

  “Ma’am, it was these two that held us up,” Dick spoke up, pointing an accusing finger at Athena and Sabine. “They were late to the orientation and then refused to allow us to come and meet you.” Athena gaped at him, unable to believe that he’d thrown them under the bus like that, and added in a lie to make it seem worse. She felt Sabine tense beside her and knew her best friend was coiled and ready to spring at any moment.

  Before she could defend themselves, Dr. Webster surprised her by looking at Dick in disgust. “Just stop talking. I don’t know your name yet and right now; I don’t want to know it. Not having your fellow doctors’ backs tells me all I need to know about you at the moment. You better learn pretty damn fast that you need to work as a team around here if you want to be accepted. Go and gather up th
e charts for rooms 17B, 22C, 4A, 33B. You can re-join us on our rounds. Since I didn’t see you write those room numbers down, I hope you have a good memory. The first thing you’ll all learn about me is I do not repeat myself. Remember that and we’ll get along fine. And another thing, if you ever call me ma’am again, you’ll be doing chart prep in the ER for the rest of the year. Now, let’s get moving, we’ve got rounds and we’re behind.”

  Dick’s stare bordered on hateful as he glared at Athena before hurrying off to do as he was instructed.

  “I don’t want to know the excuses. Just understand that if you’re late again or do anything else to make me look bad in front of the Chief or my peers, you won’t be so lucky as to just get stuck on chart prep in the ER. That goes for all of you,” Webster added, letting her green eyes fall on each of them.

  They followed her down the hall to the first patient room and Athena couldn’t help the small amount of pride that began to rise up in her. She was about to walk into her first patient room as a doctor, a doctor that could possibly end up operating on this patient if she was lucky enough to scrub in. Everything she’d worked for was about to start coming true.

  Stepping inside behind the other interns, her heart sank when she saw the patient she was so excited about possibly cutting into was no more than a child. A five or six-year-old boy lay in the too-white bed, his complexion pale and his small body hooked up to far too many machines.

  “Sebastian Harris, age five. Admitted overnight with shortness of breath. How are you two doing today, Mrs. Harris?” Webster addressed the slim woman leaning over the boy. The dark circles under her eyes and the protective way she hovered indicated this was Sebastian’s mother.

  “Hi, Dr. Webster. We’re hanging in, aren’t we, Sebastian?” Her smile was full of love but her eyes held her fear. Fear that she’d lose her child before he really got a chance to live. “You have quite the entourage today,” she commented, her eyes darting nervously over the group of interns crowded into the room.

  “They’re interns, pay them no mind.” A deep voice answered from the door. The bodies shuffled and made way for the man as he shouldered his way through. He walked to Mrs. Harris and put a hand on her shoulder and then ruffled Sebastian’s blond hair.

  “Good morning, champ. Got an update on the scores for me?” Athena’s mouth dropped as she recognized the man in the white coat. It was the douche from that morning that had nearly ran over her and Sabine. Now he was here in the same patient room as them. Was he an intern? No, he was too old for that. A resident? Too authoritative for that. Oh, God. Please, no. He can’t be...

  Sebastian answered the douche’s question before she got a chance to finish her thought. “Dr. O’Reilly! The Yankees were down by three runs in the 8th, but they came back to win in the bottom of the 9th. You owe me ten minutes outside today. You promised.”

  “Okay, kid. We’ll talk,” he smiled once more at him and then turned to address the interns. “I’m Dr. Cian O’Reilly, Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery. Who can tell me based on the symptoms you’ve observed so far why Sebastian has been admitted?” The room fell dead quiet; no one brave enough to answer.

  His eyes locked with hers, his penetrating gaze staring right through her. She knew the answer and he knew it. They engaged in a silent battle of wills, her refusing to address him, him refusing to let her get away that easily. Finally, on a sigh, she gave in.

  “Heart transplant?” her answer came out like a question and that annoyed her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “My preliminary assessment is that Sebastian is waiting on a heart transplant.” She looked at his mother sympathetically, her heart breaking as the woman’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Correct. And in the time you wasted voicing that accurate assessment, you lost precious seconds. Seconds that could cost this little boy if someone else was placed above him on the transplant list as a result of your hesitation. To be a good doctor, you need to study hard, practice and have real skills. To be an outstanding doctor, you need to have good instincts and enough sense to know when to follow them.” He looked hard at each of them, his gaze finally coming back to land on her. This time, a jolt of electricity flowed through her at the contact. There was something about his cold and domineering attitude that both infuriated her and turned her on at the same time. He was sexy as sin and he damn well knew it. “In your case, I’d say you better start practicing those skills if you want to have a chance at becoming an outstanding doctor.” His words were meant as a stinging blow and they hit home hard. Her temper rose, and she had to fight like hell to keep herself in check.

  Dick crashed into the room, the door banging off the wall as he juggled an armload of tablets and binders. Oblivious to the tension, he announced that he’d gathered the charts.

  “Are we supposed to give you a medal?” Athena snapped before she could stop herself. Her face turning bright red, she covered her mouth and immediately apologized. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from,” she looked pleadingly at Sabine for help, but it was unnecessary as Cian came to her rescue.

  “Put them down and join the others. Have a little respect the next time you enter a patient’s room. Sebastian, bud, I’ll be back later to talk about those ten minutes. Mara, find me if you need anything.” He tossed Athena a cocky grin and then strode from the room, leaving them all staring after him.

  Sabine sighed long and low. “I’m in love.”

  Athena huffed out a breath. “He’s an ass.”

  “He’s an ass you’re going to have to suck up to if you want on his service,” Sabine whispered as they followed Dr. Webster to the next patient room.

  “Don’t remind me.”

  CIAN LET THE door to his penthouse apartment swing shut behind him and dropped his keys on the entryway table. It’d been a week since Henry Smalls had passed away unexpectedly on the table and he’d ‘taken care of’ the problem of Sally Pope. So far, there had been no suspicion over her death on the table; there never was when one of his special patients expired. His team was a well-oiled machine, each an integral part of making sure that their activities remained secret.

  In the kitchen, he uncorked a bottle of fine red wine and poured himself a healthy glass. His chef had prepared salmon and steamed vegetables, leaving everything ready for him to heat and serve. With his hours at the hospital fluctuating as they did, there was little time for him to cook, no matter how much it was one of his favorite pastimes. His apartment showed off more of his style and little of his personality. Beige and cream paint colored the walls while modern art filled in the blank spaces. There were no splashes of color, no gaudy photo frames cluttering up his space. Everything was clean lines and open space. Neat and orderly just how he liked it.

  Taking his warmed plate and glass of wine, he sat at his cream marble kitchen table and opened his portfolio to the section that held his notepad. A few clicks of a remote had his wall size flat-screen TV turning on to the local news station. He spent the next thirty minutes listening to the reports and pouring over the newspaper jotting down notes and information. One particular case on the news caught his attention and had him looking up.

  “The young woman has been missing for three weeks now and frantic pleas from her parents for her safe return have gone viral in a heart breaking video posted on social media sites. Layla Hunt, eighteen, was last seen in New York City outside a theatre on 43rd Street. She was visiting the city with two girlfriends who have both given statements to the police. Foul play is suspected; a source tells us that this investigation has ties to the string of unsolved murders in the Louisiana a few months back. If you have any information that could lead to the safe return of Layla Hunt, please contact authorities immediately.” Cian chewed his salmon thoughtfully as he recalled the details of the murdered women from a few months back. Apparently, the killer had a sick fetish for blood and got off on torturing the women for days before disposing of them. The trail had gone cold; that was until now when the killer had evide
ntly resurfaced in New York City. He made several notes in his file to remind himself to do some digging. He’d never had a serial killer as one of his patients before but there was a first time for everything.

  “—vigilante. The Watcher is what they’re calling him. A man in the shadows that’s protecting our city without us knowing about it.” Cian’s head snapped up and his eyes locked on the annoying, bubbly, former weather girl, Rae Kelley. She’d recently been appointed to a news anchor position and now every night at the city was treated—or tortured depending how you looked at it—to her presence on their screens relating the latest news.

  “Criminals that have previously escaped persecution are conveniently ending up dead not long after they’ve been released from their charges. Is this a coincidence? Or does the city really have a protector watching over us and ridding us of criminals that have gotten away with unspeakable crimes? I’ll be looking into these cases over the next few weeks and reporting on my online blog, Rae’s Ramblings, so be sure to keep it locked on Channel 15 and bookmark my site.”

  Cian launched the remote across the room in disgust. How the hell had they picked up on the deaths not being accidental? And some dimwit weather reporter at that?

  “Fuck.” he swore. If they’d figured out that the criminals that skipped out on punishment were slowly going missing, and ultimately ending up dead, it was only a matter of time before their “investigation” lead them straight to him, and that was something he couldn’t have. He’d have to speak to Reynolds about the OR notes and be sure that everything was iron-clad to show that the deaths on his table had been accidental and nothing more. His reputation would hold through some scrutiny but not something on a scale as large as this. He needed a plan and he needed it fast. The urge to kill was becoming stronger with every passing day and waiting the twenty-three days to take another victim was damn near killing him.