Passionate Rivals

by Radclyffe

  * * *

  “How about we eat out here?” Emmett said as they walked up the flagstone path to the front porch.

  “Sure,” Syd said. “I’ve had enough of being inside for a while.”

  Emmett put the sack of cheesesteaks down on the porch and pulled out one of the two six-packs of local microbrew. She twisted off the cap and handed a bottle to Syd. Even at a little after eight, a bit of heat and light remained, and beneath it all, the scent of spring. The last time she’d been out here like this had been Indian summer, months ago, and she’d been sitting with Zoey then. Fall and winter and early spring had come and gone, and she hadn’t even noticed. Maybe she’d missed more than time passing.

  “Nice of you to get food for everyone,” Syd said.

  “It’ll get eaten sooner or later. Probably breakfast. Kind of an unwritten rule—anyone who picks up food has to get enough for everyone for at least two meals.” Emmett laughed, sipped her beer, and tried to put her finger on the unfamiliar lightness rising in her chest. Contented, that was the word for the peacefulness that lulled her mind into a lazy sort of pleasure. The world had slowed down somehow, and she only noticed now because she was so used to it always going by so fast. “You ever feel like you’re always running?”

  Syd shifted on the porch until her back was against the white wooden post. Facing Emmett, she stretched her legs down onto the top stair and sipped her beer. Her knee almost brushed Emmett’s thigh. “I suppose so.”

  Her distant expression suggested she was thinking about something beyond the hectic life of a surgical resident, and Emmett wanted to ask. She’d been wanting to ask a lot of things since the moment she’d seen her again, but she never seemed to find the right time. Now wasn’t the time either. She didn’t want to break their fragile harmony. “You want your sandwich?”

  Syd laughed, and her melancholy faded. “Hell, yes.”

  Grinning, Emmett passed one over. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe the past was really just best forgotten. She only wished she could. What was it they said, if you didn’t understand the past you were destined to repeat it? She never wanted to do that again. She never wanted to be hooked into someone so quickly, so deeply, that when the connection broke, it was like a sharp hook being pulled through her flesh, leaving a raw wound that bled and never really healed. So she needed to be careful. She already knew that. She’d been careful for five years, after all.

  “Dani and Jerry are in for the house,” Syd said, spreading her paper wrapper on her lap and lifting her steak.

  Somehow she managed to eat it without making a mess, something Emmett never really managed. She put hers down on the porch and ate leaning over the paper, hoping to catch the worst of the debris. “That’s great. I’ll call the landlord and leave a message tonight. Is it okay if I give him your number so he can leave you details about the security deposit and all that?”

  “Sure,” Syd said. “When do you think we can move in? We’ll want to give notice to our property manager. We’re month-to-month, and leaving a week or so early isn’t going to be a problem.”

  Emmett laughed. “You really want out of there, huh?”

  “It was great when we were at Franklin, but now…” Syd’s voice trailed off.

  “Are you guys unhappy here?” Emmett hesitated a second. “Are you?”

  “You know, I can’t speak for everyone, but I think Dani and Jerry feel the same as me. There’s opportunity here, but we all feel we’re a step behind. Playing catch-up is hard, especially when you’re senior.”

  “I know what you mean,” Emmett said.

  Syd gave her a long look. “I don’t think you do. You’re where you wanted to be, and you were Quinn’s pick, weren’t you?”

  “I don’t know about it at first,” Emmett said truthfully. For some reason, pretending anything at all with Syd felt wrong. “But she let me know pretty soon that she thought I had the chops for trauma. She’s never offered me anything or guaranteed me anything, though.”

  “No, she wouldn’t. She’s not like that.”

  Emmett chuckled. “Quinn is…”

  “Next to God?”

  Emmett laughed. “Maybe.”

  “Honor’s pretty cool too.”

  “Almost everybody is in love with Honor,” Emmett said. “If you mean that way.”

  Syd smiled. “I can see that.”

  “Got a crush?” Emmett said lightly.

  Syd shook her head. “No, I’d probably be more inclined toward Quinn.”

  Emmett felt a weird rush of jealousy. As if that could ever be a reality. Still, a surge of competition had the hair on the back of her neck prickling. “Oh yeah?”

  “I was speaking hypothetically,” Syd said archly. “I don’t get crushes on people.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Emmett said. She should stop there, but she was tired of stopping. “So it wasn’t a crush, back then?”

  Syd carefully folded up the paper wrapper and placed it beside her. When she met Emmett’s gaze, even in the dim light, Emmett could see the laughter had been replaced by something dark. “You’re not going to leave it alone, are you?”

  “I can’t,” Emmett said, desperation curling in her depths. “I just don’t understand what happened…to you, to us.”

  “Emmett,” Syd said gently, “we never had time for there to be an us.”

  The gentleness was almost as bad as the silence. Emmett didn’t want pity. She wanted anger or regret or anything that mirrored her own feelings.

  “If that’s true, then why do we both still hurt?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Hey,” Zoey broke in, “there better be enough to go around!”

  Emmett jerked and looked down the street. She wasn’t really seeing what she was seeing. A whole clump of residents, led by Zoey, streamed up the walk toward the porch. Sadie, Dani, Hank, Jerry, and Zoey. All of them together?

  The shift in the atmosphere was immediate. The cocoon of intimacy she’d shared with Syd disintegrated and blew away on the cool night air.

  “It just so happens,” Emmett said, “we have steaks and beer.”

  “Which one has onions and mushrooms?” Zoey squeezed in next to Emmett on the top stair and reached for a beer as Hank and Sadie dug into the bag of food.

  Emmett laughed. “They’re labeled.”

  Dani and Jerry hung back, and Emmett said, “There’s plenty, you guys.”

  “Thanks.” Dani glanced at Syd. “We decided to walk over to check out the place, and we ran into these guys.” She tilted her head toward Zoey, Sadie, and Hank. “You were right about it being close. It’s great.”

  Syd stood and leaned against the railing. When Emmett had shifted to make room for Zoey, their shoulders pressed together, and the contact made her uncomfortable. The conversation with Emmett made her uncomfortable. How many times did she have to experience the same thing before she accepted being with Emmett took her places she didn’t want to go? “I already told Emmett we were in.”

  Jerry stood on the path at the bottom of the stairs, half a steak in one hand, a beer in the other, and his head tilted back to survey the house. “It’s a nice place. How many bathrooms?”

  Syd laughed. “Enough so that we don’t have to share with you.”

  “Thank God,” Dani muttered.

  “Yes to that,” Jerry said.

  Zoey glanced at Emmett. “So we’re all neighbors now.”

  “Looks like.”

  “What about you, Sadie?” Jerry asked super casually. “Are you in the neighborhood too?”

  She nodded. “I share a place with a couple other people in my year about three blocks that way.” She pointed.

  “Nice,” he said.

  “It’s convenient.” Sadie perched with one hip on the railing, her beer in her hand.

  She managed to be on the outside of both groups, and Syd wondered if any of them were really her friends. She wondered too if Jerry had any idea what he was getting himself into. But not her
problem. She watched Zoey and Emmett talking easily together and decided that wasn’t her problem either.

  “I’ll take the ride home, Dani, whenever you’re going.”

  Dani sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s just so damn nice out.”

  “Spring fever.” Syd chuckled.

  “Something like that, I guess.” Dani’s usual high energy was dampened for some reason.

  “Well, take your ti—” Syd’s phone vibrated and she pulled it out of her back pocket. “Stevens.”

  “It’s Nalini, in the TICU. I know you’re not on call, Dr. Stevens, but we can’t reach Dr. Hassan, and the resident covering—”

  “That’s okay.” Syd stiffened. “What’s going on?”

  Everyone went silent, watching her. They all recognized this kind of call.

  “It’s the spinal cord patient from this afternoon. Her pressure keeps bottoming out, and we’ve been pushing fluids, but it’s not helping.”

  “Have you checked her H and H?”

  “About an hour ago. It’s a little lower than right after surgery. The on-call resident said that was just from the fluid push.”

  “Run another one. What’s her heart rate?”

  “That’s just the thing—it’s all over the place. First it’s fast, then it’s slow. The resident says it’s neurogenic shock and just to keep her fluids running.”

  “Did they come by and examine her?”

  “No, she didn’t. She said she was tied up in the emergency room.”

  “All right, I’m coming. Page Dr. Hassan again. He must not have reception. And have the operators call his cell.”

  “Thank you,” the nurse said, her relief obvious.

  Syd pocketed her phone. “I gotta go back.”

  “What’s going on?” Emmett asked.

  “Problem with the patient from this afternoon. Her pressure’s unstable.” Syd was halfway down the sidewalk when she realized Emmett was coming with her. “You don’t need to come.”

  “Yeah,” Emmett said, “I do.”

  Emmett might not officially be chief resident yet, but she already acted the part.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Where’s the resident on call?” Emmett asked as they ran. Her tone suggested she wasn’t happy.

  “Tied up in the ER,” Syd said, “and Kos isn’t answering. Cindy’s hypotensive, and the nurses are worried.”

  “Who called?”

  “Nalini.”

  “She’s good. If she’s got a feeling”—Emmett slowed, waiting for the ER auto doors to swing open, and then slipped inside—“I’d take it seriously. Our guys should know that.”

  “Maybe it’s an ex-Frank. That’s the downside of us being new here. Damn it—this shouldn’t happen.” Syd followed Emmett inside. She didn’t have time to worry about who might have dropped the ball. Chances were a junior resident without much neuro experience was buried with scut and just came to the obvious conclusion. Patients with spinal cord injuries often had unstable vital signs—traumatized nervous systems were volatile and erratic. The central nervous system regulated everything—breathing, heartbeat, blood pressure—and when damaged, wild fluctuations resulted. But trauma patients often had more than one injury, and sometimes the nerve injuries masked the others. And that was exactly why you needed to be extra-suspicious when something seemed off.

  “Doesn’t matter who it was now,” Emmett said.

  Not now maybe, but it mattered. If a nurse called more than once, the very least a resident needed to do was go see the patient or make sure someone else did. Everyone missed things, but you should never miss a problem because you were too damn busy, or too tired, or too lazy to evaluate the patient. Emmett wouldn’t let this go, and even if she did, Syd wouldn’t. Cindy was her patient.

  No one paid very much attention as they half jogged through the halls toward the elevators. Everyone had their own mission.

  “Kos said he was going to his daughter’s softball game.” Syd waited impatiently for the elevator doors to open, stepped aside as a transport pushed out a cart full of supplies, and jumped inside.

  “He’d answer his page if he got it,” Emmett said, pushing the button for the third floor. “Maybe he’s somewhere the cell service is wonky.”

  “That’s what I thought too,” Syd said as they turned the corner toward the TICU. For a second, she pictured rushing around another corner and crashing into Emmett, the two of them ending up on the floor with Emmett underneath her. That seemed so long ago now. The shock of seeing her when she’d least expected had made a tiny fissure in the wall she’d created to block out the worst time in her life, and the cracks kept getting bigger day by day. They worked seamlessly together, and when they weren’t working, they just…connected. As much as she wished being around Emmett wasn’t so easy, right now she was glad for it.

  She didn’t know the rules here, and no one knew her. She didn’t have any power. If she’d been at FHC, she’d be trusted to make decisions in any kind of emergency. Here she might as well be an intern again. That stung, as much as she tried to tell herself that would change in time. She didn’t have the time tonight, and if she needed to rely on Emmett’s backup to do what needed to be done for her patient, she would. Her pride could hurt later.

  The nurse who’d called her was still at Cindy’s bedside. Her gaze passed from Syd to Emmett, her relief clear.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “Sorry it took a while,” Syd said. Someone’s ass really did need kicking. Patient care was a team effort, and when a nurse or PA or OR tech or fellow resident needed an assist, they ought to get it. Thanks shouldn’t come into it. “How’s she doing?”

  “Her urine output is low, and I still can’t get her pressure up.” The tight-bodied, thirtyish African American woman frowned. “It probably sounds crazy, but she just doesn’t look right to me.”

  “Doesn’t sound crazy to me at all.” Syd leaned over the side rail, checking Cindy’s pupils. Normal, which she’d expected. Cindy’d had no sign of intracranial injury earlier. If something was going on, it was somewhere else. “Do you have a repeat H and H back yet?”

  “Not yet. I sent it as soon as I got off the phone with you. One of the aides hand-walked it down to the lab. I told him to stay there until they ran it.”

  “Good.”

  Cindy’s blood pressure was running in the eighties, bottom normal. Her heart rate was 110 to 120, her urine output less than 15 cc for the last hour. In any other circumstance, those findings would send up red flags that she was bleeding somewhere, but that could all be due to the cord injury too. Syd listened to her heart and lungs. Nothing there seemed off. When she palpated her abdomen, a chill ran through her. The muscles beneath her hand were distended and tense. She glanced at Emmett, who’d been hanging back, letting her work. “I think something’s going on in here. See what you think.”

  Nalini said, “That’s a change. I’ve been doing neuro checks every hour, and I always do a quick exam. Her abdomen was firm earlier, but not like that.”

  Emmett scanned the vital signs, listened to Cindy’s abdomen with her stethoscope, gently palpated as Syd had done. “She had a CT earlier?”

  “Yes. Right before we went to the OR. We didn’t see anything.”

  “Maybe there wasn’t anything to see then. We need to repeat it.”

  “We need to talk to Kos,” Syd said, “if we’re going to move her down for a CT.” She gestured to Nalini. “Has he answered his page yet?”

  “No. Do you want us to call someone else from neurosurg?”

  Syd hesitated. Another attending wasn’t going to know this patient, and she wasn’t comfortable talking to someone she didn’t know. Another reason why being in a new place was a problem, especially when she needed to make decisions. “Emmett?”

  “I think we should call Quinn,” Emmett said.

  “If there’s something going on in her abdomen,” Syd said quietly, “that makes the most sense. If it’s neurogenic shock and the
CT of her abdomen is normal, we can go to pressors and push fluids. But if there’s a bleed or perforation, we’ll have to open her belly.” Syd nodded, the plan unfolding and her uneasiness fading. “Nalini, page Dr. Maguire.”

  “Right away.”

  Emmett said, “I’ll call CT and let them know we might be coming down.”

  “What if we can’t get Quinn?” Syd said, stepping to the door and lowering her voice. Cindy most likely couldn’t hear her, but who knew for sure? And besides that, she didn’t want to advertise they were flying solo here.

  “Your call,” Emmett said.

  “We’ll take her to CT anyhow,” Syd said instantly, “and notify whoever else is on call for neuro when we get down there.”

  Emmett grinned. “I like it.”

  * * *

  Arly countered the back fist coming at her chin with a forearm block, pivoted on her right heel, and whipped a high head kick as she spun in a fast, tight circle. Her opponent, a twenty-year-old male black belt, managed to partially deflect the blow, but his balance was off when he stepped back and he couldn’t block the follow-up straight-arm strike to his midsection. His breath shot out with an audible grunt.

  Arly followed her first punch with a knife strike to his neck, stopping just short of a full-powered blow.

  “Time,” the judge called. “Halt.”

  Arly shifted back into a ready stance, her eyes bright with excitement.

  “Match to Ms. Maguire-Blake.”

  Arly bowed to her opponent, who returned her bow, quickly trotted to the side of the room, and returned to her ready position.

  Quinn smiled inwardly. Arly was quick and fearless. Her opponent had landed a few points, but Arly never hesitated. She was confident and sure. Quinn had winced at every glancing blow, but then, that was only natural. She’d rather take the shot for her, but she couldn’t. Arly needed, wanted, to fight her own fight.

  “She’s good, isn’t she,” Honor murmured from beside her.

  “She is.” Quinn grasped Honor’s hand and squeezed. “She’s great.”

  The black belt panel conferred for a few moments, and then the senior sensei called Arly forward. She snapped to attention and Quinn held her breath. Beside her, she could feel Honor tense as well.