Stronger With Us (The Strength Series Book 3) (2 page)

BOOK: Stronger With Us (The Strength Series Book 3)
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2

 

The walk of shame. It's something I've perfected in my twenty-five years that I'm not particularly proud of. As I slip out of his bed as quietly as I can, I take a look around. It's a fairly nice place, definitely a bachelor pad. I find my bra hanging from the curtain rod,
how did it get all the way up there?
My pants are on the dresser. He rolls over and I freeze, not wanting to make any noise to wake him. I glance over toward the closet and see my shirt and panties, so I tiptoe over and pick them up. I slink out of the bedroom, not looking back at the sleeping figure in the bed.

I throw my clothes on as fast as possible and make my way to the car. One thing I've learned is that I always drive to dates so I can leave whenever I want. If you've ever made the mistake, you know how it feels to be trapped at a guy's place. Once I'm safely buckled in, I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. Not my finest moment, but I got what I needed. Thoughts of my mother threaten to invade, so I crank the engine, turn up the radio, and speed off toward home.

I know what you're thinking. Why do I get myself in these situations? Well, I don't believe in commitment. Men can't be trusted with anything, especially my heart. It's much easier to keep things casual, get the orgasms I need, and move on. I used to believe in the fairy tale of happily ever after, but not anymore. Nope. My motto is to just get off and get out. I know my friends don't agree with me, especially Rebecca. Since she found Colin she's been like a lovesick puppy, trying to convince me that not all men are pigs. I will admit that with what I've seen so far, Colin seems like the real deal for her. If he can keep her ex away, things should be fine.

I pull my car into the garage of my condo and wait for the door to close before getting out. I'm not really paranoid or anything, but I've always been careful. I understand that living alone can be a risk so I try not to take any chances. Once the garage is sealed, I make my way into my place. I drop my purse on the kitchen counter and look at my phone. Fuck. It's dead again. As I plug it in, I think that I’ve got to get a new one soon because this is happening more and more often. Checking the time on the stove clock, I see I've got about two hours before I have to start my 7 a.m. shift. Just enough time for a hot shower and to get my head on straight.

Lathering my hair, I can’t help but think about where my life is going. I like my job, but I know I don’t want to be an ER nurse forever. My dream is to be a flight nurse. I’ve applied more than once, but I always get passed over. It’s starting to become a joke around the ER because the application process happens quarterly and everyone knows I’ll put in for it every time. The next round is in two weeks and I have to decide if I’m going to put myself out there again or just say fuck it and move on.

Once I've got my long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and some light makeup on, I'm ready to go. I've got enough time to swing by the local coffee shop for breakfast so I grab my phone and get in the car.

Traffic is still light at this early hour so my commute to the hospital is only twenty minutes. Freedom of Espresso is on the way and they have a drive-thru. I place my order and drive to the window.

"Hey, CJ, how's it going?" I'm greeted by Amber, my favorite barista.

"Not too bad, heading in for twelve," I roll my eyes with my answer.

"Well, good thing I put an extra shot of white mocha in your marble macchiato today," she says as she hands me the large cup of heaven. Rebecca may covet her caramel, but it's only vanilla for me.

"Thanks, babe. You're too good to me. I'll see you tomorrow," I say as I hand her the money and drive away.

I take the first sip of my drink at the red light because I know exactly how long it lasts and I want to enjoy as much of my coffee as I can before I get to work. Thankfully the drive is uneventful and I actually get to finish it all by the time I pull into the parking lot.

As I get out of my car, I hear the sirens and I know what that means -- my shift just got going. I rush into the ER before the ambulance arrives. I run to the employee lounge to lock up my purse and clock in.

“We’re losing her. Charge the paddles and get an OR ready,” the doctor yells at the six of us in the room. I’m pulling the crash cart toward the bed while Jonathan hurries to the phone to call up to the operating rooms. Even though I just got to work, we’ve done this so many times that its second nature. We don’t even bump into each other anymore.

“Charging to 120,” I say as I hand the paddles to Doctor Andersen. He’s my favorite doc to work with here in the ER.

“Clear!” he shouts as he presses the paddles to the patient’s chest and shocks her heart. We all stop and look at the monitor, hoping to see a steady, regular rhythm. What we get is a flat line and alarms. “Charge again to 150,” is the order and I adjust the machine. We do this several times, increasing the joules to 200. When that doesn’t work we try injecting epinephrine while Jonathan performs CPR. All of a sudden the cardiac monitor beeps.

“Hold compressions,” Dr. Andersen says and again, everyone freezes. There’s another beep and another, and finally the patient has a regular heartbeat. I breathe a sigh of relief and begin to move things out of the way so she can be transported to surgery.

“Jonathan, please take this patient upstairs and hurry back because we have a rig ten minutes out. CJ, I’m glad you came in when you did. Let’s get this room cleaned up and ready for the next trauma. Skylar will help you,” our charge nurse, Geneva Ann, says.

We all get to work, knowing that there are more patients coming in. The thing about working in the emergency room is that you never know what your day is going to be like. Sometimes things are really quiet, though that is a rarity. Most of the time I am running from room to room, taking care of people with minor injuries or major catastrophes. I’ve been a nurse here since I graduated from college four years ago. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline rush or the sense of family that keeps me here. I would have a similar feeling as a flight nurse, but that would mean leaving this team that has become so important to me.

“The rig just pulled up, let’s go, CJ,” Geneva Ann says as she hustles past the room. I drop what I have in my hands and follow her out to the ambulance bay.

"Hey, Keith. Whatcha got this early in the morning?" I ask as I snap on my gloves. He’s my favorite EMT, always professional and knows exactly what he’s doing.

"Car versus pedestrian at Sixth and Main. This gentleman was the pedestrian. Vitals are stable, no loss of consciousness, but the arm and leg need looked at," Keith replies as he pulls the gurney out of the ambulance and rolls it into the ER.

We enter the exam room and the orderlies are there to transfer the patient to the bed. Once we have him situated, I start my intake.

"Hi, my name is CJ and I'm going to be your nurse. Can you tell me your name?" I look up from my tablet to gauge his responsiveness. He turns to look at me and smiles.

"Curtis Lindey, but you can call me Curt, beautiful." I shake my head but decide to let that one go.

"Can you tell me what happened today?" I focus back on my tablet to record his answers.

"I have no idea. I was crossing the street and a car came out of nowhere and hit me. But now that I'm here, I'll have to thank that guy." He reaches out and puts his hand on my forearm. I move away from the bed to get the blood pressure cuff that's attached to the wall at the head of the bed.

"Are you having any pain?"

"The only pain I have is that I can't get closer to you, baby," he replies. When I turn around to start taking his vitals, he's pulling his shirt off favoring his right side. I can't help but notice the two large paw print tattoos on his chest. It looks like a cartoon bear stepped in orange ink and stood between his nipples and his collarbone. It's taking all my control not to point and laugh at this dumbass. I wrap the cuff around his right arm and pump it up to the point where he starts to squirm.

"Are you sure you're not in pain? It seems that a man like you could handle a little squeeze on the arm. Is something wrong, Curt?" I smile as sweetly as I can.

"No, nothing's wrong. My arm is a little sore from the accident, but it's all right," he says tightly.

"Hmm, well, I guess if there's nothing wrong then I'll see about getting you discharged as soon as possible. We've got to use these beds for real emergencies." I start to walk out of the room and get the attending to sign off on the paperwork.

"Wait, my leg hurts. You didn't even look at my leg," he says quickly. "You didn't examine my chest either and it's starting to bother me." I turn around and look at him.

"If you're ready to take this seriously, then I'll help you. If you're going to continue to hit on me, I'm outta here and you can deal with Nurse Jonathan. He'd be happy to examine you completely," I say with all the seriousness I can muster.

"I'll be good, I promise. No need to have anyone else, really."

"Okay, let's try this again... do you have any pain, Mr. Lindey?"

"Yes, my chest and my right leg hurt," he answers politely. I smile to myself. It's so easy sometimes.

"All right. Now we're getting somewhere. How about I have an orderly come help you into this hospital gown and I'll see what we need to do about your leg. I'll be back in a few minutes," I say as I back out of the room, closing the curtain behind me. I shake my head as I walk up to the main desk and ask the orderly to help my patient change.

"Whatcha got goin', CJ?"

I turn to see Jonathan, returning from transporting the heart patient from earlier, coming toward me wearing his signature grin. I love this man so much. He's the best gay friend a girl can have.

"Oh, the usual. Casanova in room one who got hit by a car. Since I walked into a trauma, I didn’t get a chance to ask you, but what're you doing here? I thought you and Oscar were taking the week off."

"Well, he got called into court. You know how that shit goes. So I figured I'd make some cash while he's working." Oscar is a deputy prosecutor, and he has been working on a few big cases lately. I'm not really surprised that their plans got interrupted.

"I'm sorry about your plans, but I'm thrilled that you're here. I can't stand this place without you." I wink as I say this.

"Well, let's make the most of our time together then. If you need help with your patient let me know," he says with a grin, walking toward the employee lounge. Bill comes back a few minutes later to let me know that Curtis is ready. I take a deep breath, put on my nurse face, and go back to deal with what I hope will be the last of this type of idiot for the day.

Twelve hour shifts suck. I mean, really suck. Our usual pattern is three days on, three days off. Today is my third day in a row. I’m exhausted and ready to sleep for the next forty-eight hours, but I still have two hours left of this shift. Jonathan went home a few minutes ago so it’s just me, Bill, our orderly, Dr. Sanders, and Skylar. We’re all sitting around the nurses’ station when a call comes in from registration.

“There’s a rape case in the waiting room,” Bill announces. Fuck. I hate these situations. They hit a little too close to home for me. I hear Dr. Sanders tell Bill to put the woman in room three, but it sounds like she’s in a tunnel. I know I’m starting to go into a panic attack, and I can’t let that happen here. I try to focus on my breathing like my therapist taught me, and in a few seconds things start to come back online for me. Before I register what I’m doing, I’m following Skylar to the room to start the assessment.

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