He put the gloves on and then reached for a small vial of liquid. “Can you hold this up?”
My arm was on fire, but I nodded anyway, taking it as he switched hands. Then he reached for scalpel, bent over Ethan’s wound and ground out, “Till you’re old, gray, and senile I’ll tell the story about how I left a patient to die to come to save your damn life. And just in case I’m senile too, I’m making this scar a little bigger, so you’ll at least have something to trigger a memory. I’m going to be so damn petty, you’re going to wish I’d just let you die.”
“I’m sure he’ll love that,” I whispered, tired, watching, one hand in the air.
“I don’t care if he loves it or not,” Wyatt muttered to himself. “He’s just going to have to deal.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
He glanced up at me, shaking his head before looking back down, rubbing the blood on his two gloved fingers.
“What is it?”
“For some reason his blood has thickened. It’s the only thing keeping him from bleeding more. Was he taking anything?”
“Does your brother seem like the person to take anything?” I asked him and then thought for a second.
“He must have had something with a lot of protein then…” he whispered to himself, leaning over to see more. “Ivy, see if you can hand me the thing that looks like tweezers,” he said, reaching to the side of him.
“You mean the forceps? Sure.” I reached over to him.
He smirked, reaching inside and pulling out a fractured bullet. He stared at it for a moment. “Who did this to him…to the both of you?”
“My cousins…cousin. It’s only Elroy now.”
“Is he dead?” he asked, never looking away from the work in front of him.
“Wounded but not dead.”
“Good,” he said, pulling out the second fraction of the bullet and dropping it beside him.
“Good?”
He nodded, picking up a suture needle. “There are only so many things a cadaver can teach you. I’m curious to know how many ribs you can take out before the body concaves. Or how long someone can stay awake during an open heart surgery with no painkillers…you know, the painful questions.”
“Ethan might have some painful questions to ask too.”
“Well, Ethan is shit out of luck,” he said loudly, tying his suture. “Because his younger, smarter, better looking brother, who is sharing his precious blood with his stubborn ass, has already called dibs. And as such he must, without bitching, take a step back. After all, what would he do if he didn’t have a doctor in the family?”
“You both are ridiculous.” I smiled, wincing at the ache in my shoulder.
“Just a little longer,” he whispered.
“I’m fine.”
“You are not.” He frowned, cutting the second suture and looking up at me just a little bit drowsy. “When he wakes up, don’t tell him that. He’ll feel worse.”
“You want me to tell him—”
“You suffered. You suffered for him. You’d suffer again, but you prefer not to,” he answered sharply, grabbing a vial of something and injecting it into his IV before moving back to close the wound back again. “If you say fine, he’ll know he failed you so seriously, you can’t even share the mental pain with him. Protect your wife…he failed…just like our father.”
“He didn’t fail me.”
“And that is your job. To defend him to your dying breath against any and every one.” He smiled sadly, slowly working down the side of the wound, his eyes a little droopy. “But call out the bullshit between you both privately.”
“And what is your job, Dr. Know-It-All?”
He paused, running his hand over the stitch before looking up at me. “Set a timer for ten more minutes. I’ll take a break and then eat before looking you over, and give another round too. Give me the bag and go rest.”
“I can—”
“Go rest. You’ve done more than enough.”
I frowned. “You do know I’m older than you.”
He smirked, taking the bag and lifting it up. “No, you aren’t. Callahan years are different…but any more days like this and you’ll be an old lady in no time. Go, Ivy.”
Go, Ivy. It felt like the slogan for the night. Putting the phone down, I peeled myself off the ground, feeling…feeling utterly disgusting. I took myself to a room, the evidence of my desperate search for clothes everywhere. Ignoring it, I walked into the bathroom, stripping down and turning on the showerhead. Not caring about the temperature, I sat down and cried, sobbed, wept, just broke down.
WYATT
“Boss? We’ve been expecting your call.”
“It’s me, Greyson,” I said, watching the security video play on Ethan’s laptop, which he’d left in the kitchen.
“Where is—”
“None of your business. I need you to get Elroy Finnegan’s photo out to everyone, let them know I don’t care how, but I want him caught and I want him caught alive. Anyone who kills him will die in his place.”
He was silent.
“Do not make me have to repeat myself.”
“Is the boss—”
“It is none of your business…look, you’ve made me repeat myself. If you don’t respect it coming from me, just know it’s what my brother wants and wants now. Do not ask questions. Do not speculate. Do not act like this is an odd request. A member of the Callahan has asked for a body…bring me the fucking body.” I hung up, dropping the phone to the left of me and leaning back against the wall beside him. Thankfully color was finally coming back to his skin and barely any blood had gotten onto his bandages. I’d already changed them twice.
“It’s your fault. If your sister trips, it’s your fault. If your brother gets a paper cut, it’s your fault. If the sky falls and harms anyone within this family as it crashes down, it is your fault. That is what it means to be family!” I whispered to him. “Remember when Father first said that to you…he almost killed you because I decided to go over to a friend’s house and you didn’t realize I’d left. It wasn’t your fault. And yet you stood there and never once pointed out it was me who snuck out. It pissed me off. Anything I did you’d get blamed and you just told me not to be stupid but never once complained. Ugh. It was like living with a robot. The day we were at school…and the shots rang out, I didn’t even see you outside, but after the first bullet you’d already had both Dona and me, covering us with your body under the table. Why isn’t he scared? How does he know what to do?”
I rubbed my chest as the pain came back. I wasn’t hurt. I wasn’t sick. But I was in pain. “This is how you knew, right? This…” I bit my lip, inhaling, which hurt, and exhaling hurt worse. “This pain, that’s how you knew. It’s why you never blamed me, why you hovered, even when I came here. Don’t think I’m dumb enough to not notice your moles. I’m sure you even paid off people in the hospital. I told myself to ignore it and you. And I could because I never felt this. You’ve never been the one down before. In fact, have you even gotten the flu, you freak?” I snickered bitterly, again swallowing the lump. “You’ve scared me, you know. I’m never going to get this out of my mind. If Father were alive, would he curse me for this?” I didn’t even need to ask.