Bad Medicine (Wolf Love Book 4) Read online

  Come on, Mr. Goodall. I can tell you’re one of the good ones left in this world. We need people like you. Work with me, man. You gotta fight this. Come back for your wife. Come back.

  Asha returns, biting her lip. Not like she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She bites down on her full bottom lip because she’s working so fucking hard. She has the scalpel. I move aside as iodine is splashed around. The man’s blood spills to the sides of him as Asha works feverishly. The sternum saw’s zzzuzing-noise frustrates me even more. She splits his breastbone without any one to help her. That’s my girl. That’s my strong girl.

  Paddles are there.

  Fucking nothing.

  Asha glances at me. I might have read her mind or maybe she asked me out loud to take the man’s heart in my hands and palpitate. I do.

  God, this man is a warrior too because there are marks where his heart has wanted to give out on him, but he’s pushed through. His heart is pink-red. Angry red-black where it’s tried to die on him. Carefully, I hold his heart and pump from the top, undulating to the bottom.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  Well, if it isn’t the tardy Dr. Murphy. Finally showing up. Yeah, I’d like to rearrange his face.

  Asha fills in the cardiologist on what’s been done while I keep pumping Mr. Goodall’s heart.

  Dr. Murphy shakes his head, looking at Asha like she’s a mental patient. “Just fucking call it. It’s been almost thirty-five minutes? Call it.”

  Asha purses her lips. “One more paddle.”

  Dr. Murphy folds his arms across his crisp white coat. “Fine. One more. But it won’t do anything.”

  Asha’s eyes get glassy. Extra moisture pools, but she’s so tough. She makes the order. We paddle Mr. Goodall’s heart. I watch as the amazing organ contracts and does nothing after the electrical shock. Goddamned nothing.

  My stomach bottoms.

  “I’m fucking calling it, Dr. Whitetail,” Dr. Murphy says like she’s an idiot who should have known a hopeless case when faced with it. He glances at the clock on the wall, the one checked every shift, multiple times, for cases like this. “Time of death is eight forty-two. God, this will be a shitload of paperwork to do.” And the fucker leaves on that sour note.

  Asha, head held high, touches Mr. Goodall’s shin, looking around at her staff. “You fought so hard. I’m sorry.”

  Tanya, a woman who smiles more infrequently than I do, shakes her head, fighting her own tears. I doubt the tears are for Mr. Goodall, but for Asha. She, with her golden light and warmth to everyone, makes us all want to fight for her, save every single last person for her.

  “No.” Tanya shakes her head. “We’re sorry we couldn’t get him back for you.”

  The nurses nod. Even Mary Trainer does as she’s standing in the corner.

  Asha smiles. “All of you did a great job. Thank you. Thank you.” She sniffs and pushes her delicate chin forward. “Now, I suppose we have to do the paperwork Dr. Murphy was kind enough to remind us of.”

  Tanya touches Mr. Goodall’s forearm. “We’ll clean him up. We’ll take good care of him so you can show him to his wife.”

  Asha nods once. “Thank you. I’ll go talk to her now.”

  She makes her way to the glass-door exit, but stops, turning and looking at me. “Thank you…Ryder. You must be exhausted. More than twenty minutes of…thank you.”

  I nod and have to look away. She’s too beautiful. Too heroic. Too good for a man like me.

  But I want her. Even more now.

  I want to hold her in my arms and tell her what an amazing job she did. I want to tell her how I admire her, respect her. How I can’t stop thinking about her.

  In the Army we say we’d go to hell and back for our brothers in arms. And we do. I’ve marched into known terrorist locations, gunfire spraying the walls into dust around me, to retrieve a soldier, care for him. I did that over and over again. However, once I was done with the Army, I was done walking through hell.

  But for Asha, I’d walk through multiple levels of hell. I’d do it all fucking day with a smile on my face to boot. I’d do anything she asked of me.

  Too bad she’ll never ask.

  Chapter Four - Ryder

  Asha hasn’t stopped for hours. She hasn’t eaten either. And her face, that’s usually full of smiles and warmth, is pinched, looking panicked and a little sad.

  Fuck, that kills me, seeing her like this.

  Dr. Murphy really did a number on her. After he was done with Mr. Goodall’s paperwork, he found Asha to lecture how she shouldn’t have ever cut into Mr. Goodall, how she should have waited for him. Then the ass had the gall to tell her how good she looks in scrubs.

  Okay, I’m a guy. I’m the kind of guy who would probably be called a man’s man, whatever the hell that means. I like guy stuff. Guns? Hell, yes. Trucks? Have one I use in the winter when it’s too icy for my bike. I’m kind of a stereotypical guy in a lot of ways—former veteran, likes to watch football, loves beer, and eats anything with meat. And I know I look like a guy. Lucked out with my frame and I happen to like lifting weights which makes me on the big side. So I’m probably not the best voice for feminism, but what the fuck does Dr. Fucking Murphy think after he’s shamed Asha then tells her he likes the way her scrubs emphasize her feminine figure?

  What man in his right mind thinks something like that would work? And what almost had me thinking of ripping his throat out was how Murphy touched her shoulder as he asked her for a date, seconds after he’d berated her.

  When Asha said she was busy, he scoffed off the remark as if he hadn’t really been asking her out. Then he insulted her again, saying something asinine about how, next time, she needed to wait longer for him.

  But, god, I could have kissed her for standing up for herself by saying, “You bet. The next time someone’s dying on my table I’ll be sure to tell him or her to wait until you can come down. I presume from your high horse?”

  He left, rolling his eyes.

  So, yeah, I met him in the hallway. I kind of bumped into him.

  The man can take my job away, a job I really like. But I wasn’t about to let the dick just walk off. So I “accidentally” ran into him and totally apologized while I stared him down, holding him pinned against the wall with my forearm on his chest, gently reminding him that on-call physicians, who are already in the hospital, need to be in the emergency department within so many minutes after the initial request. It’s procedure. And no one wants to break procedure.

  I smoothed the lapels of his white coat as I chiseled a smile into place, telling him, again, how sorry I was to trip into him. He might have peed himself a little, which, honestly, made my fucking day. I do have a good half foot of height on him. Plus, I’m sure, the man hasn’t worked out since he was a resident, so I knew I could physically intimidate him. I just hope he doesn’t call one of my supervisors about the little incident. Then again, if I explained myself to Tina or Tanya, my two supervisors, they would probably give me a medal since they also love Dr. Whitetail.

  Whoa. Who said anything about love?

  I guess, I did. In my head. But that just slipped out. I mean, this is only a crush. A crush where I worry over Asha and how it’s hours into her shift and she hasn’t stopped since Mr. Goodall died. How she’s too tense. How she needs to just sit down and eat. With me.

  I only have a couple hours left of my shift. It’s been a busy night with Mr. Goodall right away and then two of the town’s drunks crashing into each other. What are the odds? And then a new single-mom with a little girl who had croup. A woman who needed to be taken to surgery for her gallbladder and so on. Come to think of it, I haven’t stopped much either. I did grab a bite a couple hours ago because Tanya warned me that if I didn’t, she’d cut off my balls. Sexual harassment in the hospital is just plain weird. But kind of sweet too.

  The single-mom got to me. My sister’s also a mom without a man. Well, except me. My sister, Zoe, during our childhood, was the on
ly thing I cared about. My grandmother wasn’t exactly a nice woman, so it made caring about her not that easy. I enlisted in the Army to clean up—and I wasn’t exactly given a choice about it. But the main reason I signed up was because I knew Zoe wanted me to stop stealing. And I knew it was a good way to save money for her. I paid for her first couple years of college, but then she got pregnant, never telling me who the father was, and deciding to drop out to take care of Neil, her son, who happens to be the best seven-year-old in the world. Not that I’m a biased uncle or anything.

  So I hung out with the single-mom and her three-year-old daughter longer than I should have, but that kid, with her huge brown eyes and gorgeous messy hair, was hard to resist. Mia was the kid’s name. Can’t remember the mother’s. Anyway, Mia loved it when I flew her around in my arms as she pretended to be an airplane. We made a lot of big noises for our jet engines, which, hopefully, cleared out her lungs. Croup is scary as hell. But once you know what’s happening and how to get your kiddo to breathe again, it’s cake.

  Mia’s mom might have gotten the wrong idea. She gave me her phone number. And I know she doesn’t want me to call her for babysitting. When Mia was turned away, her mom slipped her number into my pants pocket, as well as slipped her fingers over my cock. Classy move that a few years ago I would have eaten up. I would have been fine to have slept with Mia’s mom and never think about her again. Until not that long ago, I wasn’t exactly a nice guy when it came to the ladies. Well, let’s be frank. I was always nice. For at least one night.

  But something changed within me as I watched Neil grow up. Having casual sex started to be stale. And since that’s the only kind of sex I had, you can imagine how depressed I was. And am. Then I saw Asha. I haven’t been with one woman since. I can’t think of other women. I haven’t had sex in months and I don’t care. Which is bad because it’s not like she’d ever think of me…

  Well, she wouldn’t.

  I sigh as I watch her finish some paperwork. Her bun is messier than normal. Her glasses are sliding down her slender nose. I want to take them from her, place them on the counter ledge that she’s made into a desk, and pick her up. I want to hold her, reassure her that there’s nothing wrong with taking a break. No one would dare think of her as weak. Not with me around.

  Now that my shift is close to being over, the emergency room is quiet. Only a couple patients. Both of whom are complaining about a cold that might be the flu. It’s not the flu. They’d be a lot sicker if it were. But Asha was great to both of them and is writing the required encyclopedia-length book for her report. Thanks HIPPEA for making it almost impossible to do our job what with all the fucking paperwork. I know. I know. I shouldn’t complain because it is thanks to HIPPEA that patients have a lot more privacy, but can’t there be some give about the bureaucratic paperwork we have to fill out?

  I’m finishing my paperwork on the opposite side of the counter that surrounds the nurses’ station. I’m about fifteen feet away from Asha when I hear a gigantic stomach growl. Glancing up, I notice Asha’s hand on her belly and she’s rolling in her lips, trying to keep from laughing.

  “You hungry?” I sound a lot gruffer than I mean to.

  She bites her lip. “I guess so. God, did you really hear that?”

  Tanya is behind me, but she says, “Honey, I heard it from over here.”

  I flip my folder closed and hand it to Tanya. “Done.”

  My stomach starts acting really weird—roiling and making me slightly queasy—when I decide to take matters into my own hands. I’m going to get the good doctor food. It doesn’t mean anything more. But I’m sweating as I stand in front of pretty little Asha.

  “You’re going to eat.”

  Shit. I meant to ask her what she might like to eat, and I’d go get it for her in the cafeteria. But instead my inner caveman has taken over, ordering her around. I don’t goddamned know why, but this isn’t the first time I’ve ordered her around. I’m surprised I don’t just pound my chest and say, “Me want you. Me take you,” and fling her over my shoulder. Although, I hate to admit it, but I have fantasized about that. See, I’m not at all a feminist, but the shit Asha goes through in a day has seriously gotten me thinking about joining…I don’t know. Can I become a Gloria Steinem groupie? That is her name, right?

  Asha blinks. Her big brown eyes are so gorgeous. I never used to have a favorite eye color. Until I met her. Now, I like brown. So dark they remind me of night. I can’t tell her pupils from her irises. And, fuck, is it hot to watch how her eyes sparkle and dazzle me into the caveman standing in front of her.

  She sniffs and straightens, releasing her pen. “I—I can’t remember when I ate last.”

  “That’s too long,” Tanya yells. I have no clue where she is in the emergency department. I’m pretty sure she’s a deity, though, because she knows all and sees all when she’s here.

  “Yeah, too long,” I say, trying hard not to flinch at my insanely intellectual way of conversing with Asha. If she only knew that inside my head was a man who had a mind. But, oh no. I’m me, a caveman whose dick is already noticing her.

  I will not get hard in front of her, I tell myself.

  My cock, though, is suddenly awake and not listening to my orders.

  I’m not going to get erect so I need to think of…Oh yeah. There was that patient who had a weird form of foot fungus that made his toenails turn almost purplish green. I try to remember the toenails and that helps a lot.

  But all my concentration is focused on recalling that image, so I’m even less conversational to Asha.

  “We’re getting you food.” Yep, that’s me impressing her with another order.

  Asha blinks again, looking down at her paperwork. “I guess I am done here, so I could—”

  I grab her hand and force her away from the department, Tanya ducking her head out to give me a thumbs-up and even a wink. I’ve never seen Tanya so animated and am kind of amazed by it. But I’m even more intrigued with myself and how I’m pulling Asha with me through the hospital hallways to the cafeteria. It’s a good ten-minute walk and I should try talking to her. But I just glance at her and am even more tongue-tied. Jesus, she’s pretty. So fucking pretty.

  From the little I know about the woman, I’d guess she has no clue how hot she is. I mean, she’s not just a nice face, which is angelically gorgeous yet sexy as sin. She’s smoking. I’ve spent many hours contemplating what she might look like naked. I’m pretty sure she has breasts that are perfect for my palms. Hips that make me think about grabbing her and pulling her to fit against me. And she has this little waist that makes me want to lick her curves. But she hides her body under scrubs that are a size too big, which is all right because it gives my imagination that much more of a challenge.

  Her stomach growls again as we pass into yet another hallway that somehow leads us to the cafeteria. The hospital was built throughout many years, wings seeming to be glued together by this network of hallways. That’s why it takes so long to get anywhere, because of the labyrinth that is the hospital. And I’m thankful that this time of the morning there aren’t very many people out and about.

  I glance at Asha, realizing I’ve been holding her hand this whole time. She’s got one hand on her stomach again.

  “Did you eat before your shift started?” Finally, I’m not sounding like a crazed caveman; although, my voice is more of a growl than usual.

  She nods. “A banana.”

  “That’s not eating.”

  She chuckles. “It’s a banana. And I did eat it.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “You need to eat more.”

  Now, she really laughs. Loud. She’s got one of the greatest laughs ever. It’s a mix of unabashed joy with her feminine voice. It’s kind of singsong pretty, but with enough snorts to make it endearing.

  She rolls her eyes. “I eat enough. Trust me.”

  “You haven’t eaten for nearly twelve hours. That’s not eating enough.”

  Her eyes widen.
“I know. This shift went by super fast. Did you eat?”

  I nod, glad I don’t have to lie to her.

  “What’d you eat?”

  I purse my lips, not wanting to tell her. But it’s Asha, and I have a weird feeling I could never lie to her or even omit the truth.

  She tugs on my hand in a playful way. “Come on. Now you have to tell me what you ate with your face like that.”

  I sigh and resign my fate to the gods as I say, “A cupcake.”

  She stops, and since we’re still connected, I have to stop too, turning and looking at her eyes as they light up. I’ve never seen eyes like hers before but they really glimmer, and her gaze dances with mischief.

  “A cupcake?”

  “Yeah.”

  “One cupcake?”

  I sigh.

  “And you’re getting after me for not eating enough? By the way, it’s too cute that you ate a cupcake. What kind was it?”

  I frown. “Cherry something. Marsha, the receptionist, made them. They were there. I was hungry. End of story.”

  She shakes her head. “No way, big guy. Never. You will rue the day you told me about eating a cupcake. I’m not sure why, but I’m going to have to tease you mercilessly now.”

  I yank her hand and resume walking, trying not to smile. “I’m at your mercy then.”

  She giggles a tad maniacally, which I love, as she starts to skip beside me. “Tough, rugged Ryder eating a cherry cupcake… It could be my demented and very tired mind—god, I have another thirteen hours to go until I’m done—but something about you eating a cherry cupcake is seriously making my day.”

  I shrug. “I eat cupcakes.”

  She shakes her head and stops skipping once she sees two nuns approaching on the opposite side of the hallway. “But you’re so manly, which, you know, makes it all the more adorable.”

  “Am not.” I have no idea why I’m taking the stance I am—as well the way I sound like I’m about twelve. But I’m loving talking to her like this. I’m finally relaxed enough to sound a little like the guy I am. Not just a caveman. Ugh.