Home > Wrecked (Clayton Falls #3)(2)

Wrecked (Clayton Falls #3)(2)
Author: Alyssa Rose Ivy

I got my Jeep up to eighty. The open, country road was the perfect place to let out my frustration. With the top down, the wind blew through my hair, stinging my face as I continued to accelerate. The only lights were from my car, and I enjoyed the darkness. I felt my eyes start to close just as I lost control, and everything went black.

Chapter Two

Emily

Two more hours. Two more hours and I could go home. I was already dreaming about the comfort of my bed. My eight hundred thread count sheets were my only splurge in the past year. I’d used the summer to take as many extra shifts as I could. I needed the money, and there were very few things that seemed worth dipping into my funds—a good night’s sleep was one of them.

I reattached the blood pressure cuff to Mrs. Nevelle. I really hoped her kids got there soon. She didn’t have much time left. I loved working as a nurse in the ICU because there was always something going on, but dealing with really sick people had its drawbacks. The worst was, of course, when they died. Mrs. Nevelle seemed ready. She was eighty-eight and, during the brief time she was coherent, she told me how excited she was to join her husband. I hoped that when my time came I’d have that attitude.

The unit was quiet that night. My shift had been easy. My second room was still empty, so Mrs. Nevelle had my undivided attention. I should have known it couldn’t stay that calm. I heard the phone ring so I went over to the nursing station—already confident it was going to be a report on a new patient.

I listened to the nurse down in the Emergency Room and took notes.

23 y/o male. Motor vehicle accident—BAL 0.3—arrived in respiratory distress—collapsed lung –intubated on arrival—scans negative for internal bleeding and vitals stable.

Great, a DUI. I couldn’t help it. I never had the same kind of sympathy for those patients. Anyone reckless enough to drive with a 0.3 blood alcohol level was most likely a certain type. It didn’t matter though. He still deserved the same care as anyone else. I got ready for the transport and waited.

As expected, it took a while. I wrapped my cardigan sweater around my shoulders. The worst part about summer was that they blasted the air conditioning in the hospital.

Transport wheeled the bed in, and I got my first look at the patient. He had brown hair, and was obviously tall, but I got pretty distracted by all the bruising. By the looks of him, he was lucky to be alive.

I went through the motions of getting him set up in the new bed, and connecting him to the monitors. I already knew he’d be intubated, but it was still hard to watch someone so young with a tube down their throat. I did everything carefully and methodically. I was a perfectionist when it came to my work.

Transport and the respiratory therapist left, leaving me alone in the room with the patient.

I picked up his chart. Jake Mathews. I guess he looked enough like a Jake. He wasn’t from Wilmington, but one of those tiny towns north of the city—Clayton Falls. I’d never been there, but I knew it was where my best friend, Mel, from nursing school grew up.

Mel was a few years younger than him, but considering how small she made her town sound, she might have known him.

I set aside the chart and turned back to him. “What in the world possessed you to drink and drive like that?”

Of course, he wasn’t going to answer. He was unconscious, letting a machine breathe for him. Even with his eyes closed and tons of bruising, I could tell he was handsome. It was a classical kind of handsome—with those chiseled features he probably could have been a model if he wanted to. From what I’d seen of his body, he was my type there too. I didn’t know too many men with a chest like that. I shouldn’t have been having those thoughts—the poor guy wasn’t even conscious. Maybe Mel was right, I needed to get out more.

I didn’t have an excuse to stay in his room any longer. He was stable, but he wasn’t going to come around anytime soon—not while he was on the ventilator with sedation. My shift was almost over, and I needed to get some sleep so I could turn around and come back the next night.

I took one last glance at sleeping handsome before I walked out of his room.

***

He should have been in bed. I couldn’t imagine how he could be walking around already, but there he was walking down the hall by the hospital cafeteria. He stopped right in front of me. “Excuse me, but I don’t think I’ve had the chance to introduce myself.”

“Jake.” His name left my lips without meaning it to. His eyes were brown. Not dark brown, light brown. It was such a pretty shade, and one I’d never seen before. The bruises were gone, and I could really see his face.

“What’s your name?” His voice was so deep, it almost didn’t fit him.

“Emily.”

“Emily, I’m going to kiss you now.”

I nodded, watching him with anticipation as he leaned in.

Beep. Beep. Beep. My alarm blared. Darn it. That always happened at the good part of a dream. The good part? I covered my eyes with my arm. I’d just been dreaming about a patient. Could I get more pathetic?

I dragged myself out of bed and into a hot shower. I followed it up with my usual few seconds of cold water. It was the only surefire way to wake myself up. I’d never been a morning person, and it wasn’t any different getting up at night instead. Satisfied I was awake, I switched the water back to warm and reveled in the steam it created. I stayed under the spray for as long as possible, but as the water started to cool, I knew it was time to get out.

Dressed in my blue scrubs, I made myself a cup of coffee. I had one small cup before pouring more into an extra-large travel mug. I usually finished the whole thing on the twenty minute commute to work.

***

I got in a little before my shift started at seven p.m. After twenty minutes of sign out from the day nurse, I checked on Mrs. Nevelle first. She’d made it through another day. I walked toward Jake’s room, but hesitated for a moment when I saw his family sitting with him. There were four people there—a couple in their fifties or sixties, probably his parents, a guy around his age that had such a striking resemblance to him that it had to be his brother, and a stunning blonde. The blonde gripped the brother’s hand—she wasn’t Jake’s girlfriend. Why did that thought even go through my head?

I waited a second longer and then entered the room.

“Good evening.” Dealing with the family was always complicated. They wanted to talk to the doctor, but more often than not, you were the only one there.

“Hi.” The mom turned to look at me, never letting go of her son’s hand. “Do you have any updates? Do you know how he’s doing?”

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