by Jay Hogan
Brent reached over and tucked a few stray locks of hair behind Josh’s ear, brushing Josh’s cheeks with the back of his fingers in the process. Josh froze. The affectionate gesture had taken him completely by surprise, and he felt strangely guilty, almost pulling away at the contact. No one had touched him like that since… Michael. Goddammit. He’d managed to avoid going there all day. Idiot.
Brent held his gaze. “I had a really nice time but I get the feeling that you’re not—getting the feeling, that is.” He took Josh’s hand, rubbing his thumb in circles over its back. “Sasha’s a great kid, and her dad’s pretty cool as well. But after the pizza, I think I’ll just head home and wish you well. Friends, maybe down the track?”
Josh’s chest tightened. “I knew you were a good guy. Yes, friends, I’d like that… down the track. And sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.” Brent smiled warmly. “It either works or it doesn’t, right? Can’t manufacture that chemistry shit.”
Josh sighed. “No, you can’t.” He willed Sasha to appear and save him from any further awkwardness, and as if by magic, she did, plate and bag in hand, running full tilt across a deck strewn with party trash. Shit.
“Hey, slow down…,” he called out, but it was too late. Sasha’s foot had landed on a discarded water gun, twisted, and gave out, sending plate, bag, and daughter crashing to the deck.
CAM POKED his head into the doorway of Trauma One just as Michael was finishing the paperwork on a forty-year-old man with a known allergy to mussels who’d decided after a few beers at a family wedding to tempt fate and down a couple of paua fritters.
“You free?” the nurse asked.
Michael closed the file and threw the notes on the man’s bed.
“No more shellfish, period,” he warned. “Next time you might not be so lucky.”
The man nodded guiltily. “Thanks.”
Michael followed Cam out the door. “What’s up?”
The man’s lips pursed, and a line formed between his perfectly coiffed brows. “Josh is in room five, he’s here with his daughter.”
Michael’s heart lurched. “Is she okay?”
Cam nodded, those tawny eyes searching Michael’s reaction. “She’s fine. Went over on her ankle. Needs an X-ray to check it’s not broken, but that’s all.”
A whoosh of relief left Michael’s body. “And?”
“I’ve assigned her to Paul,” the charge nurse said flatly, daring him to argue.
Fuck. Michael bit back his immediate protest. By rights Sasha should have gone to him. Paul was good, but he was still junior. He raised his eyebrow at the other man.
“Don’t look at me like that,” the nurse growled. “I’ve told him to run everything by me.”
Michael sighed. “Fine. But I could’ve handled it, you know. I’m a grown man.”
Cam put a hand on his shoulder. “I know you could have handled it. I just didn’t think you needed to.”
Okay, so he was being a dick, again. Michael’s shoulders relaxed. “Thanks.” Cam walked off, and Michael tried and failed to get a grip on his emotions. The man who filled most of his waking thoughts was sitting three doors away, and Michael’s chest was so tight he could barely breathe with the proximity. The ER suddenly felt overwhelmingly claustrophobic.
He glanced at the clock—too early for his break. He could go talk to the ambulance crew or see if he could be of help to another team or head up to radiology or…. Oh for Chrissake. He mentally slapped himself. He was being an ass. He couldn’t hide from the man forever. The police were in and out of here all the time. He was acting like a child. Cam was only trying to protect him, but fuck if Michael was going to hide from anyone.
At the closed door to room five, he paused and sucked in a deep breath. To his right he was suddenly aware of Cam’s gaze glued to him from the nurses’ station. He raised his hand and nodded to the other man. He could do this. He cracked the door, poked his head inside, and damn near dropped to his knees.
Sasha was lying on the bed, covered by a blanket and clearly drowsy with pain relief. Josh sat in a chair alongside, his attention focused solely on his daughter, her hand tucked inside his, the lines of worry etched deep on his face.
But that wasn’t what had nearly taken Michael’s legs. No, that was down to the second man, the one seated next to Josh, one hand resting on Josh’s shoulder in support. The whole concerned family portrait thing simply stole Michael’s breath as everything he was so sure he didn’t want stared him in the face and screamed “liar” at him. It was all he could do to not tell the other man to get his fucking hands off what was his, and by that Michael realised he meant not just Josh, but Sasha as well.
Josh turned wearily at the sound of the door opening and his eyes widened. “Michael?” He stood, and the other man’s hand fell.
Awesome. Michael hated whoever the guy was on principle. He struggled to find his voice, still frozen in place. “Ah… hi. I, um… I heard Sasha had been brought in, and I just wanted to check… you know… how she was,” he stammered clumsily.
Josh frowned. “Oh. Ah… sure. She fell at a birthday party. Running, not looking where she was going, you know the story.” He squeezed his daughter’s hand.
Michael gave an awkward half laugh. “Yeah. You’ve described half our clientele.”
The second man stood, and his gaze flitted between Josh and Michael, curious.
Josh glanced behind as if taken by surprise that someone was actually there. “Oh, sorry,” he apologised, his cheeks flushing pink as he turned back. “Brent, this is Michael. Michael is… a doctor here,” Josh explained hesitantly. Then he turned to Michael. “Brent is… a friend.”
Michael felt the emotional blow as a kick to the stomach. So this was Brent. Well, shit.
Michael offered his hand reluctantly, noting Josh’s discomfort.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, doing his best to be polite. It wasn’t as if the other guy had done anything wrong, after all. By the look of it, Brent didn’t even know who Michael was. And didn’t that just sting a little more.
“Likewise,” Brent replied, eyeing Michael like he knew he was missing some vital piece of information.
Sasha stirred and opened her eyes. “Mickey!” she croaked, then pouted and stuck out her lower lip. “I hurt my stupid ankle.” She tugged at the blanket to expose a very bruised and swollen foot. Then she opened her arms to him for a hug.
And fuck if that didn’t feel good. He plastered on a smile and took the girl in his arms. “Hey there, missy.” He kissed Sasha’s cheek, then switched his attention to the offending ankle, turning it gently from side to side. Sasha winced but held still. “How’s that pain?” he asked softly.
“Not too bad,” she answered, covering her leg again.
“They gave her some morphine,” Josh added.
Josh had moved alongside Michael, and Michael was acutely aware of his proximity. The familiar orange spice of the man’s cologne swept over him, and his cock twitched in recognition. So many memories flooded through his head and a ridiculous regret at the ones they would never make.
A warm pressure pushed against his hip as Josh’s hand rested there, his fingers drawing small circles in place, raising every hair on Michael’s goddamn body. Michael couldn’t move, smiling at Sasha and stroking her hand like his world wasn’t wholly focused on those six square inches of connection between himself and the man at his side. What the fuck was Josh up to? Michael kissed Sasha’s nose and stepped aside, forcing Josh’s hand to drop. He thought he caught the word “sorry” but wasn’t sure.
He cleared his throat. “Well, Doctor Paul will take good care of you, and don’t worry, I’ll be keeping an eye on you as well.”
Sasha’s eyes flew wide. “But I thought you’d look after me?” Her bottom lip trembled.
Michael nearly broke in two. “I can’t, sweetie. I have other patients, but you’ll be okay, I swear. You’re such a brave girl. I am so, so proud of you. You’re going to
be just fine, and I’m only down the corridor if you need me.”
Sasha gave a weak smile. “Okay. But you’ll come and see me when I get home, right?”
“I’ll see,” he answered, wondering how in the hell he was going to survive that. “But right now, you need to get better, so I’m going to let you rest, okay?”
Sasha’s brow creased, and she looked less than happy. “Okay,” she finally agreed. “For now.”
Michael made for the door, willing his legs to hold out long enough to get him there. But before he could escape, Josh put a hand on his forearm, bringing him to a stop, and said, “Thanks.”
Michael turned his head and found himself swimming helplessly in those chocolate eyes once again. His chest tightened, and he had to force himself to look away. “Just doing my job.”
Josh snorted. “No, you weren’t. But thanks anyway. Sasha needed that.”
And what about you? Instead Michael said, “She’s a great kid, and Brent seems… nice.” And with that, Michael couldn’t remain another second in the same room without either throwing a punch through the wall or kissing Josh senseless. Neither was what one might call a sensible option.
He pulled free of Josh’s hand and headed for the nearest empty room to shut himself in. As he collapsed against the wall, his legs shook like jelly. He’d done it. It may not have been his best performance, but he’d managed it without looking like a complete idiot, so that was a win, right? The door cracked open, and Cam pushed through.
“There’s a coffee in the break room with your name on it. I phoned an order to Milly’s down the road. Figured you might need the real stuff.”
Michael stared at the godsend that was Cameron Wano and realised for the first time just how much he’d undervalued the man’s friendship. That shit needed to change.
“I could kiss you right now,” he said, then blushed, finding he probably even meant it, he was that desperate for a shoulder to lean on.
Cam snorted. “In your dreams, sunshine.” His expression turned serious. “Can’t have been easy. You done good.”
Michael gave an appreciative nod.
The nurse waved a hand at him. “Take twenty. We can hold the fort. I’ll call if I need you.”
IT TOOK some effort, but Michael kept his head in the game long enough to get two further patients written up and admitted without obsessing too much about who sat just down the hall. But when the orderly had arrived to take Sasha to X-ray, he found a sudden interest in the ambulance bay to avoid running into them. He wasn’t sure he had the energy for another encounter. Coward? Pretty much.
But he couldn’t ignore his promise to Sasha to keep an eye on her, so he called radiology to check on the results and was ridiculously relieved to hear there was no break, just bruising. When he saw them return, Josh walking alongside Sasha’s bed, holding her hand, he yanked up his big-boy pants and strode to meet them. The delight evident in Sasha’s expression was reward enough. As for Josh, he just looked plain exhausted, and it was all Michael could do not to haul the man into his arms and hold him close.
“Good news,” he said instead. “Nothing broken.” The worry eased from Josh’s expression, and he returned the first genuine smile Michael had seen that day. “A supportive bandage and a pair of crutches for a week should do it. Paul will sort you out with the details, but it could be an hour or more yet.” He eyed Josh. “Have you eaten?”
Josh seemed to need to think for a minute. “No… I guess. We were headed for pizza when this happened.”
Michael wondered if we included picket fence, but kept his expression neutral.
“Well, then, how about you grab something from the cafeteria and let Brent sit with Sasha. My shift’s over, but I’ll be around for a bit yet, if she needs anything.”
Josh studied him with an odd expression. “I sent Brent home.”
Oh. “Well, um, I could keep an eye on pipsqueak here, if you want?” Look at him, being all helpful and shit.
Josh’s eyes widened. “You sure? You seemed pretty busy before.”
The knowing look that accompanied those words wasn’t lost on Michael. He returned the man’s stare. “I’ve got that sorted now. I can hang out for a bit, no problem. If I’m needed, someone on staff can sit with her.”
Josh blinked slowly. “Well, okay, then… um… thanks. I need to call Katie and… ah, Brent too, but I’ll try to be back in fifteen or twenty, tops.”
Michael shrugged. “Whatever you need to do. We’ll be fine.”
Josh bent to give Sasha a kiss on her nose. “See you soon, kiddo.”
“No vegetables, Dad.” Sasha grinned up at her father. “I’m in pain here. I need to keep my sugar levels up if I’m going to cope.”
Josh laughed. “There are two chances of that, gorgeous, slim and none.”
Michael watched him leave, reeling in the memory of also being called “gorgeous” but in a very different tone.
Getting Sasha back to her room, he left the orderly to manoeuvre the bed through the door while he waited in the hall. Raised voices caught his attention a couple of rooms down, and he wandered over to check it out. Adele, a young ER nurse, was attempting to get an IV into a heavily tatted man’s arm while the guy cursed her out from one end of the room to the other. Drunk, most like. Saturday nights sucked.
A second man leaned on the wall off to one side, his back to Michael, offering no help whatsoever in calming his drunken friend down.
“Hey,” Michael said, catching the tatted man’s attention. “Settle down and let her do her job or I’ll call security.”
“Who the fuck are you?” the man cursed, spittle flying from his lips. “This bitch is fucking useless. What kind of shit hospital you running here?”
The second man took that moment to turn, and Michael’s legs nearly dropped from under him. Wavy, dark brown hair with a tattoo on the right side of his neck, a dragonfly, not a bird as Michael had first thought. His gaze darted to the man’s hands. The left sported two bandaged fingers and the right… a silver chain. Fuck. Michael’s eyes flew back to the man’s face in time to catch a thin smirk. Then the man winked, he fucking winked.
Jesus Christ. Michael tried to keep his panic at bay. He breathed slow and steady, praying the wink meant the man was just fucking with him and not that he recognised Michael. That might at least give him a chance to leave and call Mark without drawing further attention. But first he had to get Adele out of harm’s way. There was no way in hell he was leaving her with them.
He calmed his jangling nerves and schooled his voice. “Adele, how about you take a break for a few minutes before you have another go.” The nurse looked at him strangely, a frown forming between her brows. Michael continued, “Try a different approach, maybe a smaller gauge needle.”
The nurse hesitated a few seconds, clearly confused by the odd request, but Michael held her gaze with a straight face. Come on, don’t fight me on this.
Finally, she pursed her lips and nodded. “Good idea,” she said calmly, though her eyes told a different story. One of “what the fuck is going on here?” But she went along with him. Thank God.
“Yeah, go get your shit in order, bitch,” the man on the bed spat. “And bring me a fucking sandwich or something, I’m starving here.”
With her back to the man, Adele rolled her eyes in distaste. “Sure,” she replied, easing past Michael to disappear down the hall. Michael was confident she’d raise some kind of concern at the nurses’ station, even if it was only to ask what the hell had gotten Michael’s crazy going.
The second man hadn’t moved, continuing to simply stare at Michael with unwavering interest. Michael pushed himself off the doorjamb and calmly turned to leave. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said over his shoulder and walked off, trying not to turn and check if the man was following. Five metres along the hall he grabbed his phone from his pocket and ducked into Sasha’s room to quickly check on her before calling Mark and warning the staff.
“Hey, pri
ncess.” He grabbed Sasha’s hand and she pulled him down for a hug. “Listen, I have to duck out for—” The words dried in his mouth as the door clicked shut behind him. He spun to find the man from the other room wearing a vicious smile—the man he’d seen at the bar that night, the man with the knife.
“Aww,” the guy said, and the smarmy tone raised goosebumps on Michael’s skin. “How touching.”
Michael placed himself between Sasha and the man. “What do you want?”
“Your phone for a start.” He held out his hand.
“Get out of here,” Michael growled.
The man stepped closer. “I don’t think so,” he challenged. “Thought I didn’t recognise you, Dr Michael Oliver. Now give me that phone.”
“You’re too late, I already—” Michael barely got the words out before his head snapped back with the force of the blow to his jaw. His vision went black and his head spun, but it was the steamroller punch to his stomach that doubled him over and sent him to his knees, gasping. His phone was snatched from his hand and the glint of a knife appeared to his side.
Sasha gasped. “Mickey!”
The man’s free hand lashed out and backhanded her, slamming Sasha’s head sideways against the wall with a sickening crack. And all Michael could manage was to lift his head and watch as she slid down the wall and collapsed on the bed, unmoving.
“You bastard,” he shouted, lunging toward Sasha. But his balance was shot, and he crashed face first into the side of the bed instead. The man kicked his legs out from under him and dropped him to the floor. Then he sat on the bed, the knife twirling in his hand at Sasha’s throat.
“I suggest you calm down, Doc, unless you want the girl hurt.”
Michael instantly stilled.
The man grinned. “That’s more like it. So, this is what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna leave with me so we can take this somewhere private and do a bit of business, yeah? You should’ve kept your head down, Doc. I said no IDs. Thought I made myself pretty clear. Lucky you came up a loser. But then, this….” He held up his bandaged fingers. “Bad luck for both of us, I reckon. I could tell you knew who I was the minute you saw me.” He shook his head. “Too bad. ’Cause based on your track record, I can guarantee you’re not gonna do as you’re told, and I’ve got too much on the line for you to screw it all up.”
