Bear

Chapter 6: Birdie

Time seems to slow down, especially in the times when you just want it to fly by.

From the moment my phone buzzed with the text message from him, my entire stomach flipped. I hadn't actually expected him to use my number; in fact I only gave it to him knowing that after he walked out the ER, my chances of seeing him again were slim to none.

I'm still not ready to confront exactly why I want to see him again. Maybe it's because he can make liquid fire burn in my veins with just a look, or because he's part of the mysterious Soul Reapers MC. I'd be lying if I said there isn't a part of me that isn't intrigued by him.

What I do know is that I need to see him again— maybe that's why I invited him to my house.

I know it’s ridiculous, he probably hasn’t thought of me once since. I’m no stranger to the kind gossip surrounding the kinds of parties and girls that frequent the bar where the Soul Reapers reside… definitely hasn’t thought about me. That thought alone is enough to force me to push away any thought of the burly biker.

Well that, and the shouting of a couple people who rush through the doors of A&E.

I get to work immediately clearing the nearest bay, prepping the space for the team to work. I make sure the defib is close by, clean down the bed and make sure that every station is stocked.

“We’ve got a 19 year old male, slightly responsive. Reported by mates as a drug overdose, we’re still trying to get details on what he took.” Jenni rattles off with a steeled efficiency as a lanky kid get wheeled into the bay on a stretcher.

We’ve done this a thousand times before, and yet still my ears ring and my fingertips tingle; overdoses are the one type of call I struggle to stomach. Every instinct in me tells me to turn around, to run straight out the door and get away as fast as I can.

I have a job to do. I have a job to do. Nails bite into my palms, leaving crescent moons embedded in the flesh there when I clench my fist, enough to refocus my attention.

The kid looks bad— pale, clammy, trembling. I suck in a breath, my body taking over even when my mind is reluctant to.

We transfer him to the bed, Jenni taking control to explain what we're dealing with.

“Showing signs of agitation and delirium. Hyperreflexia possible hyponatremia. Patient is complaining of chest pains, could be possible myocardial infarction.” I note when he starts twitching and mumbling incoherently; I'm fairly certain there is not a large ominous shadow in the room with us. At least I sincerely hope not.

“Get that defib on standby in case his heart gives." Jenni calls over to one of the other nurses.

We work on the kid for nearly 15 minutes just trying to treat the immediate side effects of whatever he's put in his system.

There's no notable punctures, so we're assuming that he ingested it or snorted it. Jenni wants to sedate him, but doesn't want to risk it mixing poorly with whatever cocktail he's already ingested or without knowing if he's got any allergies first. It's the right call, but it does mean that we have to hold him down when he starts to flail.

"Robin, you talk to the friends, we need to find out exactly what he took.” Jenni gives me a warm smile; she knows better than anyone that this case is making me itch. I wonder if she can tell that my chest feels like it's about to explode. The longer I stay, the worse it gets.

'Thank you' I mouth, my own smile pinching my lips sadly as I head out the door. As soon as the kid is out of earshot I feel like I can actually breathe again.

I press myself against the wall, taking a moment to just that. There’s no doubt the kid’s friends are probably worried out of their minds, the last thing I need is to not be in control of my own emotions when dealing with them. I take two steadying breaths, feeling them all the way to my lungs before walking back out into the waiting area.