Edge of Chaos (2 page)

Hot water does
wonders for her body and soul as it sluices over her skin. For the first ten
minutes, Kayla just stands there under the spray, eyes closed, as she relishes in
the cleansing power of the hot water. After she finishes up in the bathroom, she
throws on a pair of jeans and a tank top. She’ll change into her scrubs at work,
where she'll spend the next 12 hours working as a Physician's Assistant in the
hospital’s Emergency Department.

The moment she walks through the doors, she knows
something’s up. She and her co-workers always do their best to keep the mood
light around the ER. Laughter, as they say, is the best medicine, but tonight
the place feels like a morgue.

On her way to the
doctor’s lounge, she takes a pretty good look around. It appears that every
trauma room and almost all the exam rooms are occupied. Kayla loves nights like
this; when the hospital has more patients than resources to handle them. When
her back's against the wall and she's flying by the seat of her pants, 12 hours
goes by pretty fast.

As Kayla hurries
out of the lounge, after having changed into her scrubs as quickly as possible,
she collides with Doctor Vanderwaldt who happens to be the attending tonight.

“Kayla, thank God
you’re here. I just left a knife wound in T-2. I think he’s from that incident
at the bar across town. He’s handcuffed to the table for good reason, so don’t
let him sweet talk you out of them. I’ll be back to check on him later.”

“Got it,
Mike.”    

Holy shit
someone else survived?
Kayla
thinks to herself as she trots down the hallway, stethoscope swinging from her
neck.

She pushes the
double doors open, a comment forming on her lips when she's frozen mid-stride.
The man on the table is no ordinary man. He’s lying on the table nude to the
waist. His clothes are strewn about the base of the trauma table. Someone has
made an attempt to cover his privates with a thin sheet. Kayla can't help but
think to herself that even with a layer of sweat and blood covering much of his
skin, this man looks like a god.

He has a mop of
long, unruly, black hair that just touches his shoulders and parts naturally
down the middle. His radiant green eyes are framed by long, thick, black
eyelashes and thick, dark eyebrows. His features are so striking that she can’t
take her eyes off him. His face is beautifully symmetrical with a strong
jawline and accented by a week’s growth of facial hair.

Suddenly, she
realizes she’s been staring and blushes bright red.

“That’s a good
look on you, Doc,” he says with a twinkle in his green eyes.

“Do you know what
doesn’t
look good on you?” Kayla replies, tapping his handcuffs with a well- manicured
finger.

“Hey, I didn’t
break any laws. I think they’re just afraid of me.”

“Really, so you
don't know anything about that shootout?”

With a mischievous
look in his eyes, he changes tactics. “Look, Doc, I really gotta drain the
dragon here, so if you could help a fella out…,” he trails off, glancing
meaningfully at his handcuffs.

“Sorry, not going
to happen. And before we do that, you’re going to need some sewing up.”

“That can wait. My
eyes are starting to turn yellow, Doc; I really gotta go,” he pleads.

Kayla steps closer
to him, leans down and looks into his eyes. “No, they’re still green. You can
wait.”

“Oh, come on, Doc—"

“Alright fine, but
you’re gonna have to do it right here with a urinal.”

“Sure thing, Doc.”

Kayla picks up the
phone on the wall of the ER and dials four digits. When someone answers, she
makes her request.

“Hey Cheryl, I’ve
got a male patient in T-2 who needs assistance with a urinal.”

Kayla turns back
to her patient. “Help’s on the way. By the way, what’s your name?”

“Luke,” he
replies. “Luke Madsen.”

Just then, a male
orderly walks in carrying a fresh urinal. Luke protests the instant he sees
him.

“Oh, hell no, Doc.
You really gonna make me pee while a dude holds my dong?”

“Is that what it
is now, Luke, ‘cause a minute ago it was your dragon? What’s the reason for the
downgrade?”

“Man, I can’t go
with him touching me down there.”

“Really?” Kayla
replies with a grin. “You know, it’s been my experience that when men can’t go,
it’s because they’ve got an erection. Are you trying to tell me something,
Luke?”

“Hell, no. Just
gimme that thing, I don’t need anyone’s help.”

“I don’t think
so,” Kayla replies. “I’m not going to stand here while you piss all over the
place. Let—.”

“Fine!” Luke says
with an explosive sigh.

Kayla steps back
to the side while Mark, the orderly, helps Luke take care of business. She
can’t help herself, though. The moment both men are distracted, Kayla’s eyes
sweep over Luke’s near naked form. Her heart begins to pound as her eyes slide
over his smooth muscular chest and down to his well- muscled abs. She lets her
eyes wander over the side of his leg and butt, and right at the perfect time,
Mark removes the urinal leaving her patient exposed.

An almost silent
gasp escapes her lips as she sees a dark shock of black hair around the base of
his shaft and then the sheet falls back in place covering him up once again. It
takes effort this time to pull her eyes away from Luke’s perfect form. She
looks down at the floor until Mark exits the room, urinal in hand.

“Enjoying yourself,
Doc?”

“I’m not your doc,”
Kayla replies. “I’m a physician’s assistant.”

“So…you gonna
stitch me up or not?”

Kayla looks up, a
snide remark frozen on her lips.
Be professional Kayla
, she reminds
herself. Luke has managed to pull the sheet completely off him and he’s just
lying there naked as a jaybird. At first, she is just too stunned to move. She
wants to do the professional thing and avert her eyes, but she knows she just
can’t
not
look; so she ogles for a moment. And as if on cue, his
amazingly sexy manhood comes to its rock hard life as if it can feel her gaze
sweeping over it. This time Kayla really does gasp. A man’s cock isn’t always
the most beautiful part of his anatomy but on Luke, oh what a thing of beauty.

She walks over to
the trauma table, suture kit in hand and determined to be professional. As she
approached, her eyes rake over his broad shoulders, amazing biceps, and muscular
forearms. He has strong hands and perfect veins, long fingers and trimmed nails
covered in that persistent mechanic's grime that never seems to wash away.

Here’s a guy
who knows how to get dirty,
she thinks.

His right arm is
covered in an array of interlocking tattoos that cover him like a second skin.
He has the typical female names, probably ex-girlfriends, and various Celtic
symbols and seemingly random designs. The only tattoo on his left arm marks him
as an Army Ranger. Below the ranger tattoo, Kayla notices a series of hash
marks drawn neatly down the inside of his bicep, forming two rows. At first
glance it seems to be easily over 100 marks.

The right side of
his chest is mostly covered by a motorcycle with flames shooting out of its
pipes. The flames extend down his side and to his hip. The guy is the living
canvas of an amazing artist somewhere. Kayla’s eyes follow the flames and
suddenly they drift back to his engorged cock.

Quickly, she grabs
the sheet and throws it over his godlike form.

“Oh, come on, Doc,
just when I was about to crack that icy exterior of yours…”

Kayla walks over
to the table and places her suture kit on the stand next to his right hip. This
won’t be his first scar, she notices what looks to be a bullet wound in his
left upper shoulder and another just beneath his right collar bone. That one
could have been deadly. His chest has several crisscrossed knife scars, as
well. He's obviously survived a lot more serious wounds than the one he has
now. Kayla doesn't even want to begin to imagine the horrors this guy's seen.

As she begins the
suture procedure, she asks him about his experiences as a Ranger to take her
mind off her close proximity to his other attributes.

“So…were you in
Iraq or something? That
is
a Ranger tattoo, right?”

“Yes and no…I was
an Army Ranger but I did three tours in Afghanistan, never been to Iraq. I got
special permission to go in the military when I was 17. After my first two-year
enlistment, I re-enlisted and went to Ranger school. Then I just kinda got
addicted to all the training so I got my sniper, my special forces, and my
sapper tab.”

“Holy crap! How
old are you?”

“Don’t you have
my- Ouch!”

“Sorry. Sure, I
have your chart right here and I can read it, or I can ask questions to
distract you from the pain as I stitch you up.”

“Wait a second.
I’ve just told you I'm basically Rambo, you see all my scars, and you’re
worried that your tiny little needle might hurt me?”

“Well, you did say
‘ow’.”

“It was surprise.
I was surprised, not hurt. Are we done yet?”

"What's a
sapper?" Kayla asks, furrowing her brow.

"We blow shit
up." He says quietly.

She pauses,
letting her eyes roam over his chest, then up to his face and back down to her
suture work. He’s right, of course. He is like superman and he’s in her
clutches. There's something incredibly intriguing about this man. If she lets
this one go, she’ll never get to talk to him again. She feels the slight pang
of lost opportunity as she ties the suture knot and cuts the thread.

“I’m finished,”
she announces.

“Thank you,” he
says coarsely. Rolls over, and then catches himself. His left wrist is still
cuffed to the table.

She sees his back
for the first time. Her mouth falls open in shock! He’s got this huge tattoo of
a head like the Johnny Depp Mad Hatter character in Tim Burton’s version of
Alice in Wonderland. The most shocking part is that the character is holding a
nine millimeter handgun, the barrel is in his mouth, and his finger is on the
trigger. The banner over the head of the Mad Hatter reads
Suicide Kings
.
The banner underneath the art simply says
Oakland
. What the hell?

Luke lies back
down with a long sigh. Then he looks over at her and sees the stunned look on
her face.

“Guess you saw the
ink then…,” he trails off.

“I’m no expert
here but…that looks like a biker patch.”

“Guilty as charged!
Suicide Kings MC,” he explains.

“I guess that
explains these then,” she says, indicating his handcuffs.

“They just want to
make sure I had nothing to do with last night’s shootout.”

“Did you?” Kayla
asks.

“I was an innocent
bystander.”

“Sorry hun, but I
don't think anyone’s going to believe that. Hey, I gotta go. We’re really
slammed right now. It was nice to work with you Mr. Madsen, best of luck, the
nurse will be in shortly to give you your discharge paperwork.”