Crashed Into a Gangster

12

Victoria

22:49.

22:49 was the time of death called for the patient who was rushed into the ER less than an hour ago. He was seven years old.
I stand holding the clipboard of the little boy's information, prior to jotting down the hour he took his last breath. This is how I start a new week. Another day at the Hospital, still not recovered from the past week I've had.

Jack's pained expression, his regretful eyes...

Chris' bleeding body excreting so much red liquid on my kitchen table...

Rio...and his lingering eyes that longed for an answer...and I said yes...

"Ms. Stone! Get back to work," I avert my gaze and full attention onto my boss who stands in his familiar white doctor's coat. His eyes watching me carefully as if I wouldn't be up to no good. I hold back my irritated breath, and turn to roll my eyes, exiting the OR with the clipboard still grasped in my hands.
The only reason I work here is to save as many lives as possible, or provide any sort of help to anyone - not suck up to my boss about him being such an arrogant-

"Ms. Stone, huh?" A familiar, husky voice sounds from behind me. I spin on my heels and turn, encountering the seemingly enlightened Rio. I suck in a breath, his brows raised giving me a once over and examining my body in scrubs. My heart begins to hammer, as usual when I see him. "Rio..."

His expression gains seriousness, his jaw hardening as if it's poison for him to fail at suppressing any angle of a wide smile. He licks his lips, his gaze on my own deliberate eyes. "The one and only." I watch him glance around, his hands folded. "So this is where you work?" He asks with curiosity. Suddenly I hush him, quickly taking his arm and pulling him off to the side, boldly. My eyes glare into his. "What are you doing, Rio?" I watch him, his dark brown eyes flicking down to meet mine, he searches them. "Is there a problem?" He questions. My lips part. Is there? ...of course, there is. I look down at his neck - the large tattoo showcased and out in the open.

"Your tattoo." I say, barely audible. His brows furrow, and I then realize the closed space between us. I step back. "What about my tattoo?" He blurts, I tense from his confused, loud question. I look around, luckily no one must've overheard him, I figure, from their attention steadied on patients - which I should be assisting right now...

"Everyone knows what the tattoo is a symbol of." My eyes concentrate on either of his. Then his dark brown eyes glint mischievously.

"Maybe you'll have the same tattoo too, someday." He says lowly, huskily. I stare at him a moment, longer than I should, before rolling my eyes and clearing my throat.

"You're a gang member, Rio." I say softly. "You can't be here."

Something flickers across his face, but before I can latch on to it, a smirk plasters. "You think I'm afraid of the cops? Getting locked up nonetheless?" He shakes his head, licking his full lips again. "Nah, sweetheart. You don't have to worry about that." I furrow my brows, the space between us wide enough for me to contain my breath, and to steady my heart rate. "Worry? I'm not worried about you getting locked-"

"Stop." The gangster interjects, his jaw clenching. "I don't get caught. You don't think the police have been hunting me down for a while now? This," He gestures between the two of us, our bodies standing firm and four feet apart. "Isn't anything compared to the things I've done. That's what you don't have to worry about." He states firmly, then I watch him glance around the busy hall.

"Let them see me, darlin'." The gangster's brown irises latch onto my own, his domineering voice laced with confidence, certainty - his full lips twitching. He shrugs slightly, before turning to walk off. But he throws a grin over his shoulder and meets my gaze again.

"I'm stopping by later, just to give you a heads up." He says.

"I'll be off later..." I say with confused brows.

"I know." Are his final words before turning around completely and pushing the glass double doors open, exiting my job and leaving me standing with the clipboard still gripped in my hands...speechless.

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