The emergency room was busy, but they still got in fast.
“Just wheel her over behind that second curtain on your right.” The nurse pointed as Brandon started wheeling her in that direction. “There’ll be someone in there to take all her information in a few minutes. You can help your wife onto the bed. The doctor will be with her shortly after they’ve taken her vitals.”
She walked away before either of them could explain the misunderstanding. Brandon and Ms. Brady exchanged glances as her cheeks shaded with slight color.
Without a word, Brandon continued to wheel her over to the bed the nurse had pointed to. When they reached it, Ms. Brady attempted to stand on her own, holding the end of the bed and the arm of the chair. “Let me help you,” he quickly offered, pulling her arm around his neck.
Grabbing on to him, she hopped toward the bed that was a bit high for her, so he lifted her by the waist. Again their faces came just inches from each other. Thankfully, just as they’d been caught in another staring contest, someone cleared his throat loudly just behind Brandon, snapping them out of it.
A young man held a clipboard and smiled broadly then pulled a pen out of his front pocket. “Good evening.” He spoke quickly, holding the clipboard in front of him. “I’m Rob, and you are Mrs. Brady, right?”
“It’s Ms.” She corrected him politely. “I’m not married, and you can call me Regina.”
Rob looked up at her then at Brandon, his eyebrows furrowing. “Oh, I’m sorry, Regina.” He looked back down on his clipboard and wrote something. “The nurse out front said you were here with your husband.”
Ms. Brady glanced at Brandon, her poignant eyes looking even more innocent as he saw how she tried to hide the pain she was feeling. She quickly brought her attention back to Rob. “No, um.” She winced now, unable to hide it anymore. Brandon had had his share of sprained ankles and ligament injuries, and he knew how painful they could be. “I guess she just assumed,” she continued, pressing her lips together for a moment. “This is Sergeant Billings. We work in the same building where I fell. He was there when it happened and was kind enough to help get me here.”
Rob and Brandon’s eyes met for a second before Rob turned back to Ms. Brady. “Ah, I see. Okay, well, now that we got that straight, I need to get a little more information from you before we start with your vitals.” He looked down at her ankle. “Yep, that’s pretty swollen. It might even be broken.”
“Can you get her some painkillers first?” Brandon spoke up, knowing firsthand how long this could take.
“I can,” Rob said, his brow lifting without looking up, “but I need to get some info from her first.”
Brandon looked down at Rob’s ID. Corporal Robert Lansing—ER. The fact that this young corporal hadn’t referred to him as sir was enough to piss Brandon off. He’d never tolerated that kind of disrespect, but the fact that the asshole didn’t even bother to look at him when he addressed him and that he’d used a condescending tone was more than Brandon would tolerate.
“Do you have a supervisor, Corporal Lansing?”
Immediately, he had both Ms. Brady’s and Lansing’s attention.
Chapter Nine
Lansing stared at Brandon wide-eyed. “Yes, I do.”
“Yes, I do, what?” Brandon raised his voice just slightly, but there was no masking his signature drill instructor demanding tone.
Lansing stood up a little straighter, blinking a little faster. “Yes, I do, sir.”
“Then I suggest you go get him or her in here now.”
“He, uh, he’s not here tonight, sir.” Lansing glanced back at Ms. Brady and down at her ankle again. “But, uh, I apologize for any disrespect. I assure you there was none intended, and, uh, I can get her those painkillers no problem. I just—”
“No excuses, Lansing. Ms. Brady is in a lot of pain. Go get them now.”
“Yes, sir,” Lansing said, nodding at Brandon and then at Ms. Brady.
“I still want your supervisor’s name,” Brandon informed him coldly.
“Yes, sir,” the corporal said again before walking away in a hurry.
The only reason he let him off the hook and didn’t demand he get one of his higher ups, anyone, was because getting Ms. Brady her pain medicine took precedence at that moment. But he had every intention of speaking with Lansing’s supervisor.
Brandon turned back to Ms. Brady. She was staring him wide-eyed.
“Are you really gonna get him in trouble?” she asked, her brows coming together suddenly. “For not moving fast enough?”
This time the little princess’s glare was not quite as amusing. He didn’t expect her to understand, and he wouldn’t bother to explain himself, but it was still annoying as shit that she’d question him. The Marine code of honor and respect was not something you explained. It was something instilled in you by living it. “I said I’d be speaking with his supervisor. It’s up to his supervisor to decide whether or not he’ll be in trouble, but if he were my subordinate, there certainly would be repercussions.”
“Repercussions for what? He did nothing wrong.”
Lansing walked to Ms. Brady’s side swiftly. “I’ll attach a saline lock to your hand in case you need more pain medicine again. That way I won’t have to keep poking you, and the relief will be instantaneous.”
Ms. Brady smiled at Lansing and thanked him profusely for doing what he should’ve done the moment he’d seen the size of her swollen ankle and how much pain she was in. As he worked on getting the saline lock taped to her hand, he asked her quickly about any allergies or reactions to morphine and if she was by any chance pregnant to which she interestingly answered, “Absolutely not.” These were the questions Lansing indicated earlier that would take far more time to get to. “Now you’re going to feel a little woozy, Ms. Brady, maybe even a little like you’re drunk or high. Morphine is, after all, a narcotic, so expect some dizziness and even confusion, but don’t worry. It’s all normal.”
Nodding, Ms. Brady closed her eyes as he inserted the needle in the vein on the top of her hand. Brandon watched her strained expression as Lansing began administering the medicine through the saline lock. Slowly the still-pained expression began to ease as the morphine began to take effect.
“The relief will be almost immediate,” Lansing reminded her cautiously.
Yeah, no shit. That’s why he should’ve given it to her a long time ago.
“Be careful not to move your ankle, though.” Lansing warned. “Just because it won’t hurt to do so anymore, doesn’t mean you should. It’s still injured, and moving it might make it worse.”
After a few moments, she glanced over at Brandon, a silly smile spreading across her face and her eyes already drooping a little. “I feel better already,” she said with a slight slur.
Brandon nodded at her but said nothing and certainly didn’t offer any smiles. He knew all too well from his own past injuries and those of many of his recruits what morphine could do to you—make you feel. He didn’t want to encourage any such behavior from her now that, given the circumstances, Lansing had probably given her a big fat dose of the stuff.
Lansing went back to what he’d begun to do before Brandon had demanded the pain medicine for Ms. Brady. In hindsight, Brandon understood a little now why Lansing had wanted to get all the information he collected now from her before shooting her up with the pain meds. Getting straight and coherent answers from Ms. Brady in this inebriated and confused state of mind took a lot longer than it would have if he’d done so before. Still she was out of pain now, and that’s all that mattered.
Listening quietly as she answered all the pertinent questions, Brandon took note of some of the answers that shouldn’t interest him but annoyingly did. She wasn’t married or living with anyone. Her emergency contacts were her parents, who lived more than an hour away in one direction, and her sister, who lived a half hour in the opposite direction. She was twenty-seven, and the only medication she was on was one she said was for anxiety, but she hadn’t taken it in weeks. He noticed how she lowered her voice when answering that and a few other more personal questions, such as she just finished her menstrual cycle and she had been pregnant once but never full term. She’d lost the baby at six weeks a little over a year ago.