TAKING OVER TROFIM (Dominion of Brothers series Book 4) (15 page)

“Use the phone in one of the conference booths.” Shay heard Sarah’s father call out.

Down the hall he found the frosted glass doors of the private booths Mr. Londonaire had mentioned. He pushed one open, discovering a  miniature sized lounge equipped with phone, internet ports and enough room for two or three people to have a quick meeting in private.  Shay dialed the medical service number and waited for them to answer. “Yes, this is Dr. Shay Wilks calling in.”

“
Hold one moment
.” There was a pause, “
Yes, Dr. Wilks, you have been paged to report to the ER at Queens General immediately
.” The medical call service responded.

“Do you know the emergency?”

“
Staff is short two doctors. That’s all the information I have at this time. You’re to report to Dr. Laszkovi for further instructions.
”

“Very well, thank you. Please relay the call back, I am on my way. ETA forty-five minutes.” He hung up and no sooner did he turn, Shay was faced with a large fist flying at him.

The contact sent him flying backwards into the wall behind him. He slid to the floor and he thrust his arms up to fend off any further incoming jabs from his father. Behind the hulking man, who hovered over him, came the high-pitched scream of Sarah. And within seconds, she was squeezing past Benjamin to huddle over Shay as if shielding him like his mother used to.

“You trying to make a fool out of me, boy?” Benjamin scowled down at Shay through gritted teeth. His fist curled up tight, threatening to come at him again if Shay so much as tried to get to his feet.

“No, sir. Just answering my medic page. I have to go in.” Shay managed to get where he could sit up. He touched the spot above his eye and found a few drops of blood over the split in his brow. “Shit.” He cursed softly. “I have to go in.”

“You’re not going anywhere!” His father belched out another threat, leaning in with his fist drawn as if he intended to strike, even with Sarah knelt over him. Shay’s hands grabbed her and pulled her clear in fear his father might actually do it. Sarah screamed again and her father was quickly at her rescue, rushing through the door, making the room feel unbearably cramped.

“Ben?” Mr. Londonaire closed in, concern and bewilderment fused across his face as he tried to comprehend what was taking place. “What’s the meaning of this?” He bent down, lifting his daughter from the floor, who refused to let go of Shay’s jacket. Then Merle took hold of Shay’s arm and helped him up, once more shooting a questioning look to Shay’s father. “Ben?”

Shay’s father had already dropped his fist not wishing to be caught red handed for sucker punching his son on his engagement announcement dinner party. “Sorry, Merle. It just upsets me that my son would try to skip out on the party you’ve put together for him.”

“Well, Ben, he’s a doctor, this happens. It’s damn inconvenient, but no more for us as it is for him. Nevertheless, it’s what happens for doctors. Trust me, my wife Angela’s brother is a doctor, he gets called out at all odd hours all the time. Shay’s low man on the totem pole. He’s gonna get all the shitty on-call times for the next couple of years.”

Merle turned back to Shay and voluntarily brushed him off. “Everyone wants a son or husband to be a doctor. So easily we forget the sacrifice we have to make for getting what we ask for. Aye, son?” Mr. Londonaire gave him a condoling smile and patted him on the back. “You going to be alright, son?”

Shay nodded, “I-I have to go. There’s an emergency and they are short staffed as is.” He gave the feeble get-out-of-jail excuse and quickly rushed out before his father could find a means to turn it back to his own advantage. It wasn’t until Shay made it to the door, he realized he was clinging to Sarah, nearly dragging her out the hotel with him. His arm draped over her shoulders protectively. Once outside, he stopped, glancing down at her, realizing he had done so because he was afraid his father would strike her. Or use her like he’d used Shay’s mother to force him to return home. Dread filled him that his father knew exactly how to manipulate him and keep him a prisoner. Tears stung at the backs of his eyes and he wished Trofim was home so he could go to him.

“Shay? What just happened back there?” She asked softly, big hazel brown eyes like a doe’s looked up at him.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Shay held her arms, his thumbs caressed her shoulders for only a moment, “I- I have to go.” And he left without ever having kissed her.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

After reporting to the desk, Shay went to his locker. Only when he opened it, he just stopped and stared at it, remembering too late he’d taken his change of clothes home to launder. He tried to hold off the berating thoughts that he was fucking everything up, unsure if they were actually legit this time or just more of his father’s verbal abuse that had been beaten into him over so many years of hearing them.

He pulled the shiny watch band from his wrist and tossed it in the locker, along with his wallet and closed it up. He glanced down at the tux shirt and slacks, along with his polished dress shoes. At least he would see his patients in style, he tried to joke to himself, but knew full well this was not how he would look for his shift. He leaned forward, surrendering his forehead to the locker’s cool surface, wishing his mind could just go blank for a few seconds. Anything to escape the ugliness that threatened to ruin everything he had both worked hard for and hoped to always have. But the only escape his thoughts got were those of an interruption when he heard the door to the lounge open. He twisted his head, not fully lifting it and glanced to see who had come in. One of the first year interns stood with his head poking in, “Dr. Wilks? Dr. Laszkovi wants to see you in his office.”

Out of silent habit, Shay nodded and headed down the hall, making a quick stop at his station to grab the lab coat he always kept on hand there then another stop to grab a spare change of scrubs from the supply closet. Glad he could count on them for back up for tonight so he didn’t come across as completely unraveled and then made his way to see Dr. Laszkovi.

“What’s the emergency?” Shay asked stepping into his boss’ office.

“There isn’t one.” Pavle glanced up from his desk and gave him a straight-faced look. “I just figured you needed an escape clause. Emergencies do well for that sort of thing.”

Shay let out a deep breath as if he’d been holding it the whole time. He scrubbed over his face with a hand and let out another hard sigh. “Guess I’ll go home and get some rest then.”

“You’ll do no such thing. You’ll put in some hours like you were called in to do. I won’t have anyone who might decide to snoop around accuse this hospital or its staff of faking an emergency just so you could get out of family obligations.” Dr. Laszkovi punched in a few things on his computer, and then logged it off. He took a double take of Shay’s face, “Timmy’s manning triage tonight, go have him take a look at your eye. I’m heading home for some sleep. I got the kids this weekend and an unexpected airport run at five in the morning.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

Pavle came around his desk, stopping beside him, but the look Pavle gave Shay was all business, “Don’t thank me. I have a hospital to run, and it takes nurses and doctors to do it. Grab a change of clothes from the stockroom.”

“Already did, Doctor.” Shay held up the blue pants and shirt in his hand and got the nodded approval from Pavle.

“Good, then have a good night, Doctor Wilks.”

Though Shay was well aware he’d been given a rhetorical scolding, he was grateful for the small favoritism. Had there been any other history between them, he would have wanted to ask why Pavle he did it. But being as it was, he didn’t dare. And frankly he didn’t care what Pavle’s reasons were, Shay was just glad to have been the recipient of them.

Shay headed straight for triage though he had no intentions of bothering Timmy or any of the other nurses for treatment. A butterfly bandage was all he needed for now. “Hey Timmy, mind if I raid your bandage supplies?”

“No, go ahead.” Timmy glanced over his shoulder and saw Shay’s eye, “Damn, looks like you better grab a pack of sutures while you’re at it. Who’d you piss off, anyways? ”

Shay gave him a smirk, “An unhappy drunk.”

“Oooh, Doc be all snazzy tonight.” The woman swaying in the patient’s seat that Timmy was questioning flirted up at Shay still in his tux. “You gonna be fixin’ me up?”

Shay forced on his bedside manner smile for her, “Not me and be grateful. The patients that come in who do need me, are not usually in one piece.”

The woman blinked, then snapped around to glance at the man strapping the blood pressure cuff around her upper arm, “He serious?” She asked him.

Timmy chuckled, plugging her into the automated monitors and flipped a switch that right away started to expand the cuff around her arm. “’Fraid so. He’s one of the rotation surgeons here, and the one keeping your guts intact until the proper specialist you need arrives.”

“Oh—” she bobbed her head back to Shay then shook it, “You cute, but you ain’t that cute. I mean, don’t get me wrong or nothing.”

Shay chuckled. It was the first moment of levity he had all night. “I am sure I will recover from your rejection.” He grabbed a few things from a supply drawer, and headed back to the locker room to change and fix his eyebrow.

Shay had no sooner gotten changed when he was being called up front. Four teens in a car accident, two in critical condition.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

It was nearly 6 am. Shay was exhausted and his head was splitting despite several ibuprofens.

It turned out for the better that he’d been called in. Being a Friday night with a full moon out, the ER had been mayhem all night.

Shay sat at his station, just putting in his last data before ending his shift when he felt the hand slip over his shoulder and down his arm. Without even looking, he let out a sigh of relief. He knew that touch and the weight of the world left him in that instant. He turned and looked up to see his Trofim, looking equally tired, but it didn’t mask his love or his concern. Shay stood and practically fell into Trofim’s arms, his forehead landing on Trofim’s and then kissed him with a sigh, “I thought I was supposed to pick you up tonight?”

“Caught an early flight in. You needed me.”

“Yes. But then, I will always need you.” He leaned back to look into Trofim’s jetlag weary face. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll take you home.” Shay already felt his strength coming back.

Trofim looked up at him, his eyes searched Shay in much the same way he had him. Then Trofim’s eyes fell on the two black stitches taped over with a butterfly bandage above Shay’s right eye. His breath caught and he reached up, his fingertips floating just above them. “He did this to you?”

“I’m okay.” Shay pulled Trofim’s hand away from his eye and placed it on his cheek instead. Where it belonged, while holding him tighter. Trofim tensed and pulled way and glanced around, searching the hallway. “Trofim, stop. He isn’t here.” Shay tried to pull him back in, but Trofim wouldn’t let him. He shook his head, his eyes never stopping their search. His expression gave away his fears that Shay’s father was out there somewhere— watching. Maybe in the parking lot waiting to see if he would catch the two of them walking out together.

“Trofim, don’t do this to me. I’ve never looked over my shoulder, I’m not about to start now.”

Trofim shot him a look of despair, “He’s watching. You know he is.”

“I am not going home without you.” Shay demanded. He grabbed Trofim’s wrist and dragged him down the hall past several doors and then led him into the bunk room. No sooner he had the door closed, Shay pulled Trofim in his arms and came over his mouth. He pushed in to find Trofim’s tongue and kissed him with no indication he was ever going to let go. It wasn’t until they both needed air that Shay released him. Both locked in each other’s arms gasping. “I told you before, the only thing that makes it bearable is having you in my arms.”

“Having me in your arms means there’s more to bear.” Trofim tried to touch Shay’s brow again to make a point, but Shay rocked his head back from the touch.

“No. That is not how this is going to be between us.” Shay pulled his lover to his chest, tucking Trofim’s head under his chin and kept him there.

~  *  ~

Trofim stayed under Shay’s perfect guardianship. He was home and Shay’s strength restored as if it had never gone. He had to wonder if, in a sense, he was to Shay as Sampson’s hair was to him. It was a nice cozy fantasy even if there was no truth to it. He swept an arm up around Shay’s neck while keeping his head rested against Shay’s cheek and then dropped his hand to Shay’s chest, feeling the heart beating there and the depth of Shay’s breath in his ear. Trofim felt as if he could slow dance to this all night, but when Shay swaggered, Trofim knew it was time to break up the reminiscent moment and get back to reality. They could not leave the hospital together.

“Go home and sleep. We can get together tomorrow afternoon or something.” Trofim suggested from the confines of Shay’s lab coat.

“No.”

“He’ll be watching your car.”

“Then my car will stay here and he can watch all he wants. We take a cab together.”

“You risk too much.” Trofim mumbled.

Shay’s arms dropped, letting Trofim go and he turned away. His hand diving into his hair and then dropped to his hips to rest there. “I’m a wrecked man, Trofim.” Shay turned and faced him, a pleading look marred his yes with deeply rotted pain, “But when I am with you, it all changes. I am strong and confident for once. I know where I am going, how to get there. Determination and confidence that never existed for me before you, reigns. My past no longer matters, because I know I have a future and a man I love to spend it with. Without you, I am so fucking lost and damaged, I have no choice but be my father’s victim. When I am with you, nothing he does hurts me.” Shay stepped in, grappling for Trofim’s arm and held him firmly before him, his brows pinching in, glowering at Trofim. “Damn it, Trofim, when are you going to realize that everything I’ve suffered through is never going to change. It doesn’t go away no matter what I do. So at least let it be worth something and let me have you without an argument from you.”