Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I smiled at her.
“No, not right…” I started, but then stopped short when Emily chose that second to projectile vomit across the room.
And all over the nurse’s feet.
The nurse laughed, but that laughter abruptly cut off when the nurse that’d told this one to go gather supplies showed up.
“God, you’re a mess. Get out of here and go clean up. Make sure you clock out while you do it,” she ordered, pushing the pretty nurse.
My brows furrowed.
“You’re going to make her clock out for something a patient did?” I asked shortly.
“You did this?” bitchy nurse asked.
I shook my head. “No, my niece did it. However, that’s not something you can clock her out for when it happened on the job.”
The cute nurse, Freya C., as it read on her nametag, looked at me with gratitude in her eyes. That name sounded so familiar.
Thank you, she mouthed.
I winked and turned back to the bitch.
“Yes?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Freya, clean up this mess,” she ordered then walked away.
“You’ll have to forgive Annette,” Freya murmured softly. “She’s had a rough time of it lately.”
I didn’t say anything; instead, I took the paper towels she’d handed me and started to wipe off Emily’s chin.
“Oh my God,” another nurse said, pushing in close so she could get a better look at Emily. “She’s so cute!”
Freya was pushed aside, lost her balance and swayed to the side.
To save herself from falling on her ass into the vomit, she had to throw her hands out to her sides in an attempt to catch herself.
I scowled at the woman.
“Move,” I ordered.
The woman, startled by the abruptness of my words, quickly backed away. Right into Freya.
This time Freya really did fall.
“Ahhh,” Freya cried, planting her entire leg into the throw up.
I winced and hopped down off the cot, my body protesting as I did.
“God, you’re such a mess,” the new nurse said to Freya. “And so clumsy.”
And that’s when I realized I was on the set of Mean Girls.
“Get the fuck away from me,” I snapped. “Now.”
The woman left, tossing a nasty look at Freya, as if this whole predicament were her fault, while she made her way back to the nurses’ station across the room.
She strode right up to the bitchy nurse from earlier, and they huddled together, whispering, as they pointed at the poor girl at my feet.
“Here,” I offered my hand. “Let me help you.”
She wouldn’t take it since it was my injured hand; instead she levered herself up and hurried over to the sink where she started to viciously wash her hands.
Her shoulders hunched in, and I could tell she was only a short minute away from crying.
The poor girl’s ugly red shoes with the holes in the top probably weren’t feeling too good, either.
Freya slipped on some gloves, then went about washing her shoe, being sure to get into each and every crevice of it.
Then she took out the little plug things. One was a Santa Claus, the other was a gingerbread man.
On her other shoe she had a Christmas tree and a candy cane.
“You like Christmas?” I asked her.
She looked over her shoulder at me.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I do.”
“I can tell,” I teased her.
She even had Santa Claus earrings on.
“Freya!” the rude cow from the nurses’ station called. “I need you in room four for a linen change. Mr. Anderson had another accident.”
Freya’s shoulders slumped, and it was then I realized that I couldn’t watch those two bitches do this to her.
I couldn’t let her go do this with vomit still in one shoe.
Except the little girl in my arms started to cry, and I looked to the parents to my right and saw Kitt crying with Apple holding her and talking to her softly.
“Fuck,” I sighed. “Fucking fuck.”
“Language!” my sister managed to cry through her tears.
The bitchy nurse who was so rude to Freya the first time came over, carrying a tray in her hand.
She set it down on the rolling table at my bedside and started to unfold a package.
Dr. Carrolton came up beside her and started to pull on some gloves.
“I’m thinking you need about fifteen or so stitches on this one,” he said as he studied it. Peeling back the bandage on my other arm, he looked at the wound there and pursed his lips. “This one will probably take around ten or so. If you’re lucky.”
“You want me to hold her?” the nurse offered.
I looked at her, then down to her name tag on her shirt.
“Lucy M.,” I said. “There’s no way I’m going to let you hold her. Your bitchiness might rub off on her.”
Lucy M.’s eyes went wide at my words, and she started to say something cutting, but Carrolton stopped her with a raised hand.
“Why don’t you go help Freya clean up Mr. Anderson’s fifteenth shit in the last hour? You know it’s goddamned c-diff. I can smell it. You can smell it. She can smell it. He’s your patient today, Lucy, so no more pushing him off on Freya,” Carrolton warned.