Finding Stone (The Stone Brothers Series) (Volume 1) (5 page)

My right hook was itching when Avery humiliated me in front of Dr. Stone. I don't know what I did to deserve her attitude. I hope she doesn't continue to do it.

"Hey, you needed my help?" I ask the male nurse, I think his name is Brayden.

"No, I just wanted to save you from Avery. Everyone knows she’s a bitch.”

"Well, thank you. I don't know what I did to upset her. I have barely even spoke to her.”

"You didn’t
do
anything. You're pretty. She hates anyone prettier than her," he replies.

What? Avery is gorgeous. I'm not ugly, just not anywhere near as pretty as her. "You sure you don't need anything?" I ask.

"Nah. I'm good."

"Okay. Thank you again."

"No problem, I hate sharks," he says. I laugh as I walk away.

I sent Sarah a text. Since Molly left the room I've been sporting a hard on. It's very distracting. Sarah replies that she is busy at the moment. Fuck. I know the second she is done, she will find me and I will get some much needed relief.

I decide to go to Hansons for lunch. It's usually quiet and laid back, not your typical bar scene. Kerrigan is working. It'll be nice to sit and chat.

"You keep eating bar food and you're going to need that gym," she says teasing me.

"Tell me about it. I do run, though. It helps keep thunder thighs at bay."

"How's your day going?"

"Fine, except a bitch who went out of her way to embarrass me." I know I don't know Kerrigan that well, but I need to vent to someone.

"You want my advice?"

"Sure, I’m all ears."

"Stand tall. The only way she brings you down is if you allow it."

That's her advice? I know it's the truth. I was just hoping she'd tell me how to chop off Avery's beautiful hair without getting caught.

"It sucks being the better person. You're right. Though I will think about cutting her hair and giving her bangs if she does it again," I sigh. Kerrigan cracks up.

"Damn, girl. Remind me not to piss you off.”

I finish the rest of lunch joking with Kerrigan. She is pretty cool.

"As much as I hate to head back, I have to go," I say as I push back from the bar.

"Well I'm almost always here. Except Sundays and Thursdays," she says.

"Cool. See you Friday for sure."

"Looking forward to it,” she says.

I stand just outside of Hansons trying to find confidence. Why do I let people like Avery get to me? I've never cared what anyone thought. I guess it's because I'm new here and I’ve been trying to make friends. It's just kind of hard to do when someone goes out of her way to let everyone know I'm not likeable. She has a crew of bitch nurses who hang onto her every word.

All of a sudden, I hear POP, POP, POP. What the hell? I see people diving behind cars. I freeze. Taking in my surroundings, I see an old maroon Impala. A man is hanging out of the window randomly shooting. I duck behind a Mini-Cooper. Dammit! Don't these people know this car isn't big enough to hide me properly?

I stay crouched down for a few seconds. It feels like an eternity. I can hear the shooting getting closer. I start to think about my parents. They were worried about my move. I reassured them I'd be fine. Please God; don't let my parents get a call.

Finally, the gunfire stops and I hear..."HELP! HELP ME! HELP ME!"

I start to take off. As I am running toward the voice, I see the maroon Impala driving right back by me. The man I saw earlier is now sitting in the car. He looks right at me.

In one hand is a gun, while he makes a gun sign with his other hand and motions a pretend shot at me. I instantly freeze and then start to shake. I realize then that the shooter isn't a man, but a teenager who can't be more than sixteen. I see that his head is shaved and there is a swastika tattoo on the side of his head.

Under the tattoo, I can just make out the letters AB. His eyes are a piercing light blue, chilling might be a better word to describe them. After the car passes, I shove down my fear and take off running faster.

When I arrive, I see a very pregnant woman covered in blood.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" I ask wanting to kick myself. Obviously she isn't.

"It's not me. It's my husband." She says pointing to her husband lying in a pool of blood.

Without thinking, I rip off my shirt to cover a hole in his chest. I try to apply as much pressure as I can. There is so much blood; I can't tell if there is more than one gunshot wound. I pray we can get him to an O.R. stat.

I just got a text from Sarah asking me to meet her, about fucking time. I push the elevator button just as I hear gunfire.

My years in Iraq tell me it's gunfire and not fireworks.

The Army soldier in me has me racing towards the door. It’s pure chaos. People are screaming and milling about with dazed looks.

"DR. STONE! DR. STONE!" I know that voice. It's been playing in my mind for a few weeks and is the reason for my near constant hard on.

I look over and see Molly, shirtless, sitting next to a man who has bled out on the ground. Why is she shirtless? Then I realize she is using her top to cover a chest wound. I wonder if she even realizes he is gone. I know he is. Looking at the amount of blood on the ground and his now gray color, I know that he's not coming back. Rushing to her, I stop just a few feet from her because gunshots start to ring out again.

"Molly, get down!" My voice is panicked.

"I can't!" she replies. Does she have no concern for her safety? She's being reckless.

"Molly he is gone. GET DOWN NOW!" I am screaming.

"We can save him. Please, Dr. Stone," she is crying. The gunshots are getting closer. FUCK! She must be in shock.

She will end up dead if I can't get her to listen to me. NOT HER! I race over and tackle her to the ground.

I lay on top of her shielding her body with my own. I have my head in her neck. I can feel her shaking uncontrollably. I have the crazy thought that her hair smells like strawberries.

She looks up to face me. Her eyes are saying so many things. I know that in this moment she trusts me with her life.

She is thanking me. She doesn't have to say the words. I can see them.

"Dr. Stone, I'm scared." Her voice is trembling.

"Hey, none of that, you're going to be fine. I have you." I do have her. Nothing will harm her.

"I want it to stop." I hate that she is so scared.

"Talk to me, Molly. Where are you from? What's your best friend’s name? Ever been to jail?" I don't know why I ask that last one. It just came to mind.

"I'm from Kentucky. My best friend’s name is Kelly. Once I went to jail. Well, I didn't get arrested. The sheriff picked up Kelly and me for stealing Halloween decorations. We tried to make a pumpkin roadblock. We only got a couple of rows high when the Sheriff pulled up." If the situation we were in weren't so dangerous, I'd be laughing my ass off.

I hear a car accelerate as sirens fill the air. People get up and start running. I can't move. Her body underneath mine feels right. I know she is safe here with me. However, I have to go help. I roll off her and I see officers arriving. I see other doctors and nurses already streaming outside. Everyone is shouting orders. I take my shirt off so I can cover her. She is laying in a fetal position on the ground, crying.

"Molly?" No answer, just crying.

"Molly! Please look at me," she finally looks up.

"You're okay. You're safe. I’ve got you. Take my shirt." I say and realize I am stroking her hair. I lift her up so I can get her covered.

"Thank you, Dr. Stone. I can't take your shirt," she says filled with appreciation.

"I'm Noah." I don't know why I said that, but part of me wants to be her Noah. “Put my shirt on. You're in your bra." I don't want anyone seeing her. I keep that thought to myself.

"Thank you, Noah. Go. I'm okay. I'll be right behind you,” she says. At least she took my shirt. Hearing my name escape her lips at such a vulnerable time makes me feel... What? Peace? Whole? This internal conflict has to wait. I take off running to someone else who is yelling for help.

The hospital told me to take the day off. I just wanted time to shower. I didn't want to be home alone in the apartment. Three weeks ago, I would have taken the day. I can't, not today.

After my long hot shower, I feel calmer, but not by much. I don't think the adrenaline has receded yet so I take my time getting ready. It takes over an hour for me to be ready leave the apartment. I can only imagine how crazy it'll be when I walk in the hospital.

I walked this street a little over an hour ago, feeling unsettled after the shooting. Now instead of feeling uneasy, I just feel confused. Why would Dr. Stone risk his life to save mine? According to him, I am irresponsible. A drunk. A stripper. How could he be so caring and calm me under impossible circumstances?

When he was on top of me, I felt things. Not sexual. I am not that crazy to feel turned on while a dead body lays just a foot away. I felt protected. Shit. This can't be happening. I've only known him a few weeks. Ninety-nine percent of that time has not been pleasant. I need answers. I walk through the sliding glass doors.

Surprised to see it's calm, I walk to the nurse’s station and ask Katherine where everyone is.

"Morgue," she states devoid of emotion. I want to cry. Death is a part of life. I get it, but to feel no emotion is just sad.

"OFFICE. NOW." I turn to see who's in trouble when I realize it's me. What the hell? Dr. Stone is pissed.

Katherine jerks me to her side. "I don't know what you have done to piss off Dr. Stone. Whatever it was has to be bad. I've worked with that man two years and have never seen any emotion from him. My advice. Just stand there and take it. Say a bunch of yes sirs and I'm sorrys. Now go before he looks at me that way."

Not knowing what to do, I follow him into the office. "I'm sorry Dr. Stone. Have I done something wrong?" I ask, confused.

"Well I am trying to decide if you're an idiot,” he says in a very pissed off tone.

I sit there because I don't think saying SCREW YOU would help me right now. Waiting for him to speak again, I look at him. Something is going on in that beautiful head of his. I can tell he is trying to calm himself. It's not working.

I pace the floor trying to will myself to calm down. This woman drives me insane. How do I make her realize that her lifestyle is reckless? I'm telling myself I am protecting the hospital. Really, I want to know why she seems so careless.

"Let me get this out and don't interrupt me." She starts to speak. I hold my hand up in warning. Maybe she has a hearing problem too. I guess I can add that to the list. She doesn't listen either.

"You were late on your first day of work. I saw you dancing on a bar and drinking after work." She goes to open those perfectly plump lips. Again, I hold my hand up. She's pissing me off. Again, I go to continue. "Then, today, I see you topless trying to plug a bullet wound with your shirt. You're a nurse and I don't think I need to remind you about blood-borne pathogens. I can accept that part because I know we work on adrenaline in emergencies, but then I realized that as the gunman was coming back, you sat there in the wide open like you had a death wish. My question, or rather my concern is, are you a liability to this hospital?"

She sits there glaring at me. I know I've pissed her off. Good. I wait for her to respond. When she starts to talk, I hear a voice that is filled with so many emotions. I can hear the sadness, the anger, and embarrassment.

"I know this sounds silly, but technically, I was NOT late on my first day. I just didn't get here early because I had spent the night before tossing and turning, going over everything. How early should I be? Should I wear make-up? Would I make friends? I wanted to make a good impression. This is my first real job. I was excited and nervous, but I didn't want to make the impression of a kiss-ass. Obviously, I worried too late because I overslept."

I start to speak, but she holds her hand up as I did earlier warning me to be quiet.

"This morning I did protect myself during the first round of shots. After it was over, a pregnant lady was screaming for help. Her husband was lying there. I knew it was bad; I knew he was dying and I know the moment he died. I couldn't let him go. I didn't want his wife thinking no one tried to help. Her baby will now be born without a father. One day when he hears the story of what happened, I want him to know someone tried to save him. I didn't just let his father die. I did mission work for two years. I've seen death up-close and personal. I never want death to be just another day at the office. I will keep helping a patient until I feel it in my soul that there is nothing left to do. Yes, I know about diseases, but sometimes doing what is right is worth the risk. I didn't even realize I was taking off my shirt. I just did it. I will return your shirt tomorrow. Thank you for that."

Okay, I admit it. I thought this was going to go in a whole other direction. She lives with her whole heart in the open for everyone to enjoy. She seems incredible. Not knowing what to say, I sit dumbfounded. I can't have feelings for her. I can't be the man she should want. And I am definitely not the kind of man she deserves.