“If you’re willing, we’ll handle the rest,” Slade states.
“Wait, what? How is that even possible?” I’m flabbergasted to say the least.
“You’ll work here, we’ll pay you double what you make here for two to three hours a day if you take care of Drake.” This time it’s Easton talking. I swear I’m getting whiplash from moving my head back and forth between these men.
“Um, okay, I guess. But I’ll need to at least see some kind of credentials.” I may be a fool for taking this side job, but there’s no way I won’t do my own due diligence. My parents did not raise a fool.
“Sure.” All four of them pull out their badges of some sort. I look at them carefully, knowing full well as soon as this shift is over what I’ll be doing, research, a shit ton of it. I see that Bridger and Slade work for the same place, Easton has a different company, and then, well, Travis. There isn’t much I need to do there, not to mention everyone in town knows Raelynn.
“I guess that sums it up. It’s not like I couldn’t use the extra money anyways. Student loans are a you know what,” I mutter.
“We’ll have everything ready later this afternoon,” Easton lets me know. I nod my head, still in a state of ‘what the hell did I get myself into’ when each of them turns on their heels and leaves.
I fall back in the chair carefully. It wouldn’t look too good if a nurse landed in the hospital with a broken tailbone because she plopped down unsteadily and the wheels on the seat took off.
“This has got to be one of the weirdest days ever,” I whisper out.
“Hey, girl! What was that you said?” Rita comes strolling back in, a to-go cup in her hand, and now I have the sudden craving for waffle fries.
“Nothing. This has been a weirder day than normal, but everything was good while you were gone.”
“That’s good. Are you taking your break now or later?” Rita is an older nurse. She took me under her wing when I landed on this floor. Her white hair shows her age, which is not a reflection of her spirit. I swear she can run circles around me on any given day of the week.
“I’ll go now. I have a sudden craving.” I look at the cup she’s holding, letting her know where I’m going.
“I would have picked you up something, sugar.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t really know what I wanted, but now that I do, I’m going. Plus, this gives me some down time. I’m still coming down from finishing my last class. That bachelor’s degree really tried to kill me,” I tell her, and I’m not lying—working full-time while going to school part-time was a struggle. I’ve never been happier that it’s done and I’m officially through with school.
“Alright, anything I need to know?” I’m grabbing my wallet and phone from the desk drawer. Most people put things in their lockers that are provided by the surgical center. I’d rather not and choose to carry as little as possible.
“Everyone’s good. Mr. Martinez has requested to come off his pain meds. It’s documented. He’s the only one waiting on rounds right now,” I tell Rita, my thoughts going back to when I walked into his hospital room. Even with his shoulder bandaged and him sedated from pain medicine, Drake Martinez is a sight to behold. Raven-colored hair, tousled from what I’m sure was a stressful morning, that five o’clock shadow that might be more like a day’s worth of growth. Not to mention his chest—he’s sculpted, completely and utterly sculpted. Something I should not have been paying attention to while working on him. My eyes though, they had a mind of their own and wanted to visualize every aspect of his body.
“Thank you, Rita.” I snap out of my stupor. If I think about Drake Martinez anymore, I’ll never get lunch or figure out what Nighthawk Security and Reid Industries are all about.
“No problem.” We wave, and then I’m off. I have a date with a Cobb salad and a crushed ice soft drink.
Three
Drake
I run my left hand down my face. The effects from the pain medicine are making me more tired than ever. Sure, I need rest, I’m no dummy when it comes to listening to your body, but this drug-induced state has got to fucking stop.
“Ah, Mr. Martinez. Sorry it took me so long to make rounds today. An emergency surgery was wheeled in right when we finished up with you,” my surgeon says. I look outside the window seeing the sun is well past setting. I shake off my annoyance. This place is a joke even when I’m the one not in a bed.
“No problem.” I mask my annoyance.
“I see here you requested to be taken off pain medicine unless it’s over the counter and that you’ll be going home with a home health nurse for a few hours every day. He or she will help rebandage your dressing, help you take showers, and then work on the therapy aspect as well.”
“When will this be happening?” I grit my teeth, not wanting some stranger in my house seeing me in my weakest moments.
“Tomorrow. I want to see how you do overnight without pain medicine. If all goes as planned, you’ll be out of here by noon tomorrow. Sound good?”
“Yeah, I mean, I’m not too happy to be spending the night, but I knew it would happen. Thank you. Hopefully, I won’t be back here again for quite some time.” I shake his hand with my left hand, not liking that it makes me feel weak.
“I’m right there with you. Everything went smoothly, so with the right amount of rest and doing your exercises, I have no doubt you’ll be back to your regular activities in the next few months. You will be in the sling though, for four to six weeks,” he tells me again what he already said before the operation. If anyone wants out of this shit, it’s going to be me. There’s no way I want to be laid up any more than necessary.
“You got it,” I tell him.
“Knock, knock, look who I found wandering the halls,” Bridger announces as he opens the door.
“You look like shit,” my brother states. I roll my eyes. He’s one to talk.
“Those bags under your eyes are saying the same thing about yourself.” My tone is gruff, and what patience I did have is dwindling the longer I’m caged in this place.
Braxton recently bought old man Red’s mechanic shop, and he’s been busting his ass ever since. Working night and day, even with the help of Leo and me, it still has a long way to go. Especially with Braxton wanting it set up a certain way.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I guess it takes one to know one.” His hands are stained from grease and motor oil, a sign that the man has the same work ethic as me.
“No shit,” I grouse.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Drake.” Dr. Smith waves his hand and heads out the door. It has me laying my head back down on the pillow and taking a full breath of air. The guys told me earlier what the surgeon had said to them after I was brought in to recovery, but until I heard it from the man himself, I hadn’t been breathing easy.
“I’ll be counting down the hours, Doc,” I tell him, causing Braxton and Bridger to laugh.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask Bridger. I’m not stupid enough to know he didn’t come back here scheming something.