Twisted Hate: Chapter 49
Twisted Hate (Twisted, 3)
âYou forgot to ask about their allergies,â I snapped. âHow am I supposed to treat a patient properly if I donât have all the relevant information? This is the ER, Lucy. We canât afford kind of fuckups.â
Lucy shrank back from my harsh tone.
I usually had a great working relationship with the nurses, but I was too irritated by the sting of antiseptic in the air, the clicks of the keyboard at the nursesâ station, the squeak of shoes against the linoleum floorsâ¦basically everything.
I ignored the heat of Claraâs glare from several feet away. It wasnât my fault if people were incompetent.
âIâm sorry,â Lucy said, her face pale. âIâll make sure to remember next time.â
âGood.â I turned on my heel and left, not bothering to say goodbye.
âDonât stress about it,â I heard Clara say behind me. âIt was your first mistake since you started working here. Youâve been doing a great job.â
She caught up with me a minute later, her irritation as sharp as the one running through my veins. âDoctor, can I speak with you?
â
âIâm busy.â
âYou can make time.â Clara yanked me into the nearest side hallway. Doctors and nurses rushed past us, too caught up in their own work to pay us much attention. âWhat the hell is wrong with you?â
Her eyes bore into mine, equal parts concerned and annoyed.
âNothing is wrong with me. Iâm doing my job. Or I would be, if wasnât holding me up.â I leveled her with a pointed stare.
âDoes your include alienating every person in the ER? If so, youâre the Employee of the Month,â Clara said coolly. âI donât know whatâs wrong, but youâve been acting like a boor for the past week. So hereâs my advice, both as a nurse your friend. Cut that shit out, or youâll ruin everything youâve worked for the past three years. No one likes an asshole doctor.â She jabbed her finger at my chest. âNext patient. Room four. We donât have time for your moodiness right now, so I suggest you set whatever the fuck is bothering you aside and stop making it harder on everyone else around you. You want to do your job? Then .â
She stalked off and disappeared around the corner.
I stood there for several stunned seconds before I released a sharp exhale.
Clara was right. Iâd been acting like a grade-A ass. What happened last week had messed me up, and Iâd been taking it out on everyone around me.
My jaw flexed when I remembered my breakup with Jules, but I didnât have time to dwell on that right now.
I had a job to do, and Iâd already wasted valuable time.
I checked the patientâs information in the hospitalâs online system before entering the room. She was female, aged twenty-four, namedâ¦
My skin chilled right as the words sharpened onscreen.
Jules Ambrose.
It had to be another Jules Ambrose. The universe wouldnât have that fucked up of a sense of humor.
But when I pushed open the door to room four with a shaking hand, there she was, looking like sheâd stepped right out of my most beautiful nightmare.
She stared back at me, her eyes wide with shock. A nasty cut slashed across the corner of her forehead and hit me like a punch in the gut.
Jules. Hurt.
Time slowed into one endless, painful beat. It was so quiet I could count each individual thud of my pulse.
Youâd think a week would be long enough to blunt the serrated edges of my pain, but youâd be wrong. They raked against my insides, making me bleed all over again, but they were nothing compared to the worry raging in my gut.
How the did Jules get that cut? What if it was infected? What if sheâ
Jules shifted, and the soft squeak of leather finally dragged me out of my trance.
In this room, we werenât exes.
She was a patient; I was her doctor. This wasnât the time to wallow in our personal history or freak out over one small cutâ¦no matter how much the sight of her blood made my heart twist.
âIâm Dr. Chen.â I spoke in a clipped, professional tone, thankful none of my inner turmoil bled through.
I would treat Jules like I would any other patientâone I didnât know.
The more distance I placed between us, the better.
âHi, Dr. Chen. Iâm Jules.â The tiniest of tentative smiles played on her mouth and stole the breath right out of my fucking lungs.
Thank God my attending physician wasnât here. As a third-year resident, I usually started the patient encounter before telling my attending, whoâll see the patient on his own after I gave him the pertinent information.
If my attending here, he would have approved of how distracted I was. He could always tell when my head wasnât in the game.
Clara had already checked Julesâs ABCâsâairway, breathing, and circulationâso I jumped straight into the questions, hoping theyâd ground me.
âWhat happened?â I stared at my clipboard like it was the most fascinating thing Iâd ever seen. The less I looked at her, the less likely I was to cave like a cheap umbrella during a thunderstorm. I was still pissed at her. One injury didnât change that.
âI fell down the stairs,â she said quietly.
My hand stilled for a fraction of a second before I continued my notes. My heart thumped so loud it almost drowned out my next words. âHow many stairs were there?â
âMaybe a dozen? Iâm not sure.â
Sweat coated my skin at the mental image of Jules crumpled at the bottom of a flight of stairs. I almost reached for her the way I wouldâve had we still been dating, but I forced my personal feelings aside and examined her extremities for injuries.
I couldnât find any physical wounds except for the cut on her forehead and a couple of bruises, but that didnât mean she was in the clear.
The sweat intensified as the worst-case scenarios for all possible internal injuries flashed through my mind.
âDid you hit your head?â It was an obvious question, given the cut, but I had to ask.
Jules nodded.
âDid you pass out?â
âYes.â
I swallowed the lump in my throat and ran through the rest of my questions.
No.
No.
âAre you hurting anywhere in particular right now?â
My question hung between us, thick with unspoken meaning.
Despite everything that happened between us, the thought of Jules hurt made it so fucking hard to breathe.
âMy head, shoulder, and lower back.â
âWhat about your neck?â I felt along her C-spine and breathed a silent sigh of relief when she didnât flinch. âDoes it hurt?â
Jules shook her head. âNo. Itâs just the places I mentioned. Physically, anyway,â she added softly.
The air thinned while the ache in my chest intensified.
She was so close I could hear her breathing.
Iâd forgotten how much I loved that soundâthe sound of her just existing, reminding me that no matter how fucked up the world got, there was at least one good thing in it.
At least, there used to be.
I set my jaw and finished the physical examination as quickly as possible. âRight. Iâll order a CT scan, just in case.â My crisp words bounced through the fluorescent-lit room, erasing any hint of softness. âHow did you fall down the stairs?â
A long silence passed before she answered. âSomeone pushed me.â
I stared at her, sure Iâd heard wrong. âSomeone pushed you.â
Jules nodded, her lips tight. âI was walking down the stairs after my bar exam. I was distracted, so I wasnât paying much attention to my surroundings. The personâ¦surprised me, and they pushed me when I tried to get away. I hit my head and passed out. When I woke up, I was in the back of a taxi with a woman, someone I recognized from the testing site. She said sheâd just entered the stairwell when she heard me fall, but she didnât see anyone else. She dropped me off at the hospital and, well, here I am.â
She relayed what happened in a matter-of-fact manner, but the slight shake in her voice told me the incident freaked her out more than she let on.
Slow, poisonous rage oozed into my bloodstream.
I wasnât a stranger to anger, but Iâd never felt like this before.
Like I wanted to hunt down the person responsible and rip them apart with my bare fucking hands.
âWho?â My calm voice belied the violence brewing in my stomach. âWho did this to you?â
She said the person surprised her. Judging from her tone, it was someone she knew.
I guessed the answer before she told me.
âMax.â Apprehension crept into Julesâs eyes, like she was afraid of how Iâd react to the name, and for good fucking reason.
The guy who had a sex tape of her. Who blackmailed her into stealing from me. Who put his fucking hands on her and destroyed the only beautiful thing in my lifeâ¦
.
My rage deepened, tinting my world a bloody crimson.
âI see.â I betrayed none of the emotion roaring through my chest. âIâm going to make some arrangements for your CT scan. Iâll be right back.â
I left the room and pulled out my phone. It took me less than two seconds to shoot Alex a text.