Promises 2 (31 page)

“I’m going to need you both to come downtown with us now.” The rookie delighted in telling them what they were going to do.

Quick grumbled, “Call Judge. Tell him to call those friends of his in the Atlanta PD; we might need a couple allies on this one.”

“We always think alike, brother.” Duke pulled out his cell phone while they were being escorted out of their own building. They went to stand at the end of the sidewalk behind the tape another office was putting around their parking lot. It was brighter outside, and the Atlanta working class was waking up and heading to their jobs while Quick and Duke waited for Judge to answer.

“This better be good,” Judge’s groggy voice answered on the fourth ring.

“Wish I could call with good news, but it’s not happening today.”

“What’s up?” Judge asked, more alert.

“Fast version. There’s been a homicide in the office. Dana fired the kill shot. Brian’s hurt and Quick has a hit out on him.”

“Oh, damn. Everyone alright?”

“For the most part, yeah. Brian looks bruised pretty bad.”

“I’m getting up. I’ll be there in an hour. Let me make a few calls.”

“Thanks. We’re gonna be going down to the precinct soon, so meet us there. Call up your friends in the APD. We need some help. The cops are hinting at we may have used excessive force.”

“God and Day? Hell. Shit’s about to turn real ugly, now.”

“I heard they’re a little unorthodox, but just call them.”

“You asked for them… you got them.”

Cayson

He didn’t get another text from Quick, but at least he’d gotten the one saying he was okay. Must’ve been a false alarm. He had no clue what time Quick was going to return, and regardless of the fact that he’d awoken before dawn, he couldn’t possibly go back to sleep. He grabbed his messenger bag and went into Quick’s office, shutting himself inside with his cell phone right next to him and his watch securely on his wrist.

~~~~~~~~~~

He rubbed his tired eyes, and looked at his watch. It was after noon already. He picked up his cell phone and checked to see if he had any missed messages. Nope, none. He sighed tiredly, standing to stretch his back. Cayson needed to do something to pass the time, because he’d already caught up on the few files he’d brought with him, and since he wasn’t at his home computer, he couldn’t access any other files from the hospital.
Why didn’t I grab my laptop? Maybe I can run home real fast and get it.
Working was how Cayson always dealt with stress. The hours would pass and before he knew it, Quick would be back and in his arms.

Cayson sent Quick a text and went to put on some warmer clothes.

Running home a sec, be right back. Need my computer. Don’t worry, my watch is on.

He wanted to add a PS at the end of that message, but again, figured there’d be a better time to say what he felt for Quick. Cayson looked at his watch, then checked his cell phone again. Quick didn’t object to him leaving, assuming he saw his message, so he threw on his thick parka when he heard his cab honking at the curb. He’d drive his own car back so he wasn’t stuck here later and forced to use a cab if there was an emergency.

Cayson sat back in the cab after he rattled off his address. He wasn’t even halfway there when his cell phone rang in his pocket. He fumbled nervously, hoping it was Quick. His face dropped when he saw it was the nurse’s station in the ER.

“Dr. Chauncey speaking.” Cayson listened while the ER charge nurse begged for him to come in and help them with a rush. Something about a housing complex fire this morning. Patients were being rerouted to them from Regency South. First, he was miffed about not being able to spend his last day off with Quick, but he felt like a moron, because Quick wasn’t able to spend the day with him, anyway. Cayson exhaled in disappointment and told the nurse he’d be there in five minutes, then asked the cab driver to drop him at Emory Hospital instead of home. 

It was indeed a madhouse when Cayson rushed through the double doors of the ER. Patients were lined along the hallway, all the rooms already in use. Shit, why hadn’t anyone opened the other triage area? One of the ER doctors on duty was taking a woman up to maternity; the other three were in patient rooms. Cayson looked at the chart and began crossing off and rewriting in new orders. If they didn’t clear the waiting room, there was no way they could accurately assess how many patients they were able to take from College Park. A fast track acute center should already be running as well, to clear out the patients with minor scrapes and bruises.

“Dr. Chauncey. Thank god you’re here. We’re so slammed. Dr. Benton and Dr. Rajih are both in with traumas. No one else could come down. I really hated to call you on your day off, but I knew you’d come.” Nurse Jenny smiled sweetly at him.

Cayson looked down and gave her his most understanding smile, lightly patting her shoulder. She was completely flustered; her usually tight bun was hanging loosely at the nape of her neck as she used a threadbare washrag to wipe the perspiration off her forehead. Her other arm was weighted down with files, and Cayson hurried to relieve her of them. “Here. Give those to me. Send three nurses to do acute injuries in the south wing, and send two to triage.”

“That’ll only give us four RNs in the main wing,” she said tiredly.

“We’ll make do. The faster we clear out the non-emergencies, the better you’re going to feel.” This was medical school 101. He didn’t understand why he had to tell them that every time. He plucked the files from her and let her scurry off to do what he’d said. As he separated the files, a name caught his eye and he went back to take a closer look. King, Brian P.

Cayson let the name roll around in his head. It wasn’t clicking. He’d heard that name, very recently. Well, it was a common name. Cayson had almost tossed the thin file into Dr. Rajih’s pile, but his eyes caught the next of kin on his information page: King, Bradford, Sibling.

The King brothers from Quick’s office. The big ex-military guys. Yep, it was them, because the file indicated a sign language interpreter was required. What were they doing here? Cayson’s stomach dropped. Was that who the alarm was for? Is Roman here? Cayson took off in the direction of trauma room nine. He knew he should’ve finished his assignments first, but he had to know what was going on. Had to know Quick and Duke were okay, as well as Brian.

He tapped on the glass before he pulled back the curtain. As soon as he stepped inside, he was thankful for his years of experience, because he would’ve gasped in shock at the heavy bandages lying across the entire left side of Brian’s face. The man’s large frame wasn’t able to fit on the standard-sized hospital bed. There were no casts or splints on his limbs, nor was he confined to the bed, so Cayson was able to see his injuries were confined to his face. A morphine drip hung along with a bag of saline. Had Brian been to X-ray, yet? Did he have a CT of his head to be sure he didn’t have a concussion or brain injury while he lay there half-asleep from the pain meds? Damnit, Dr. Rajih irritated him with his lazy method of practicing medicine. You’d think the man paid for the tests he ordered out of his personal bank account. Someone always had to come behind him and order more workups.

Cayson was getting ready to address Brian when his big brother stood up, his face a contorted mask of anger and rage. “You,” he growled.

Cayson paused, looking over at the third man in the small room, who he recognized as one of Duke’s frequent visitors when he was in the hospital under Cayson’s care. He think the guy’s name was Dan… no, Dana.

“You do this and Quick will never forgive you,” Dana said sternly against Ford’s ear, standing just as fast and holding onto his forearm so tightly that Cayson could see the blood draining from Dana’s nails.

“I don’t care,” Ford snarled, his large hands were on his hips while he gave Cayson a death glare like he’d never seen before.

“Duke won’t either. This man is a friend and very important to all of them. None of this was his fault.” Dana kept talking. Cayson wore a bewildered expression.

He had no clue what was happening. Why was Ford so mad at him? They’d just met. Literally, yesterday. The man had been talking about protecting him, now he wanted to kill him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I saw the name and recognized it. It’s fine if you don’t want me to treat your brother. But if you let me. I promise I’ll treat him like he’s the President of the United States.” Cayson moved to peel back the bandage on Brian’s face, but the way Ford tried to break free from Dana’s hold was all the message he needed. Stay away.

“You touch him and you die!” Ford roared.

Cayson jumped back, terrified at the deep octave of the man’s voice and the rage he heard in it. He slowly put the chart down on the counter and stepped away from Brian’s bedside. “I only wanted to help. He needs more tests done than that.” Cayson pointed at the chart. “He hasn’t been checked properly for a concussion, he needs more neuroimaging. I know he doesn’t talk, but has anyone interviewed him for signs of a heady injury using you as a translator?”

“No,” Dana piped in, with Ford still boiling next to him. His mouth a thin, angry line. “No one has been in here for hours. The nurse said they were dealing with a trauma and they’d try to find Brian a room.” Dana looked at his watch, identical to Cayson’s. “That was three hours ago.”

“Ford. Bradford!” Dana yelled next to him. “Let Brian get some help.”

“It’s his fault.” Ford pointed at Cayson and he had to stop himself from looking behind him to see if he meant someone else. How were they blaming this on him? He’d been at Quick’s worrying for all of their safety, now he was fearing for his own.

“Where is that punk motherfucker who did this to my brother? Where is he?!”

Cayson assumed security was busy too, because all the screaming and ruckus going on behind their curtain should’ve been addressed by now. Where was everyone? Not even a nurse came in to see what the noise was. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Answer me!” Ford boomed.

Cayson turned and fled through the curtain, leaving the chart on the counter. He looked behind him to see if he was going to have to break into a sprint. If Ford came after him, he’d forget about the minimal self-defense training he’d had and haul ass. He was somewhat relieved to see Dana emerge first, looking left, then right before he saw Cayson at the end of the hall.

“Doc. Wait,” he called out.

Cayson stopped, but he craned his neck to make sure Dana was alone.

“He won’t leave Brian’s side, not even to chase you, so don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry.” Cayson slumped against the wall, digging his thumbs into his aching eye sockets. “What the hell is going on? And where is Roman?”

“You haven’t heard anything from Quick or Duke?”

“No. Not since early this morning. Quick said he wasn’t hurt.”

“Quick wasn’t hurt. Luckily. They got Brian instead, thinking they had Quick. Three men jumped him after he came back from a bail release. They kept trying to get Brian’s name out of him, but of course….”

He doesn’t talk. Cayson felt the pain so deep he fought to keep from doubling over. “Wait.” He pushed off the wall, and started pacing while he put together what Dana said. “Some guys were after Quick, but they got Brian. What guys?”

Dana looked like he didn’t want to say anymore, but Cayson glared at him. “Just say it!”

“Your ex-boyfriend sent some guys to kill your new boyfriend, but they got Ford’s brother instead.”

Cayson slumped down the wall and landed hard on his ass. He plunged his hands into his hair, pulling at the length on top. He’d completely forgotten about the ER and his job. His head started to pound and his heart felt like it’d been stabbed repeatedly. He coughed and hacked, trying to catch his breath. What had Joe done? This was unbelievable. This didn’t happen to people like him. This was real life criminal activity going on and he’d started all of it. Brian was… beaten. He couldn’t call out for help. So he had to push the alarm.
Oh, god. What did I do? It is my fault.

“Doc. You alright? Breathe.” Dana was squatting next to him. “Hey don’t do that. Chill out man. Breathe. Breathe. Everyone is alright now.”

He’d fucked up. Big time. He’d dumped Joe and downplayed his anger, calling him a scared anesthesiologist. All the while, he had the capability of an organized mastermind. Quick and Duke would never want to see Cayson again. He was a troublemaker who had brought strife and chaos to their close-knit family. This wasn’t who he was. He didn’t cause problems – he fixed them. Well, now he was the problem, and Ford was going to fix him properly. He wouldn’t be able to run forever. Cayson would pay for what happened to Brian. Maybe Ford would kill him swiftly. Surely, he knew how. He felt sick. Sicker than any patient in that hospital.

“No. No. Don’t pass out. Shit! Quick is going to kill me for telling you.” Dana sounded tired and extremely nervous, but Cayson couldn’t form any type of response. “Doc! Doc!”

Cayson’s world was tilting and fading to darkness. Was that the ground? His cheek was smashed hard against something freezing cold and he wanted to pull away from it, but his body was completely zapped of energy. He must’ve had his eyes closed, because he couldn’t see a thing and it scared the shit out of him. He heard his name being called and he thought he answered, but if he had, they wouldn’t keep calling out to him. He was jostled and pulled as he was hoisted up and carried away, he didn’t know where he was taken because he couldn’t figure out where he was.