Page 52 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)

Chapter Four

Cami

It’s actually a relief to get called in.

The air back in the apartment had been so stifling with male ego, I was having a hard time breathing.

Or maybe it’s just because seeing Ryle again, hearing his story, conflicted me in ways I’m unprepared for.

I love Ben. I’ve loved Ben a long time, and even though I can’t help but feel frustrated with him right now, that love hasn’t changed.

But when I look at Ryle, that one wild night comes flooding back, igniting my memory and my senses far too easily for my liking.

The confusion would be enough to drive anyone insane, and add pregnancy hormones to the mix, and it’s a perfect mess.

Just now, a shift at the ER seems more straightforward.

Besides, I kinda thrive in the chaos when it’s for work. That’s what makes me good at what I do.

“What’s up?” I ask Helen as I stride up to the nurse’s station.

“Three traumas came in at once,” she tells me, handing over a stack of cream file folders. “You know, the usual.”

I nod. “What’s the current status of the floor?”

“Hmmm, Dr. Henderson is with room 223, Dr. North with 220, but they had us call you in for 217 because no one else answered their page.”

Another nod. This is so routine, I could do it in my sleep at this point. “What’s the status with the patient?”

Helen doesn’t answer immediately. She’s looking rather intently at the counter.

“Helen? Room 217? What kind of trauma did they suffer?”

Reluctantly, she meets my eyes. “It was… self-inflicted.”

“GSW? Attempted suicide? What?”

She shakes her head, but her lips are folded. I can’t decide if she wants to grimace or is trying to hide a smile.

“Are they going to bleed out while I stand here waiting for you to tell me what’s going on?”

This at least gets a reaction. “No, of course not. You know me better than that, Cami.”

“You’re not giving me a lot to go on,” I point out.

“Well… they just…”

Suddenly, realization dawns and I swallow back a groan. “Is it butt stuff?”

Helen’s eyes shoot to mine, and she nods.

I let out the sigh this time. “Great. They called me in to remove a dime bag?”

“I don’t think?—”

“Never mind.” I wave a hand, already walking away. Helen clearly is too shy to discuss the particulars, and frankly, I’m not in any mood to deal with it.

“But, Cami!”

I shake my head and keep moving. I’m not in a great mood to begin with, and Helen’s close-mouthed approach to nursing isn’t helping.

I can’t double back now that her tongue seems to have come loose.

As the charge nurse, I’m in charge of the floor and the other nurses.

Normally, I’m much more patient and empathetic, but I’ve got a lot on my plate just now.

Forcing a sunny smile, I turn the knob and enter room 217. “Hello, I’m Nurse Rodgers and I’ll be?—”

“I’m here against my will.”

His words, not to mention the frantic pitch of his voice, stops me short. I peer at the patient—a tall man with long, curly brown hair that cascades down his back, clear, square frames, and a smattering of freckles.

“Oh, stop it, Howard.” His companion sighs heavily. “Just tell her what you did already and we can get out of here!”

“What… what did he do?” I ask her.

“Hey! I’m the patient here!” he protests.

“Okay.” I give him another winning smile. “Are you going to tell me?”

He scowls at me and slams his hefty arms across his chest. “No. I don’t think I will.”

“Then why are you here?” His lips part, but before he can respond, I remember. “Oh. Right. Against your will. Well.” I turn to the blonde who’s glaring at him. “If he won’t tell us, there’s nothing we can do. We’ll have to release him AMA.”

“Howie, if you get released AMA one more time your insurance is going to drop you! And you’re still going to have to pay for the emergency room visit.”

“ I ’ m not going to pay, you’re going to have to cough up the money! You’re the one who forced me to come here in the first place!”

“You were in the bathroom making sounds like you were shitting freakin’ bricks! What was I supposed to do?”

Voices were raising, and I was feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. Normally, I would have excused myself, but it didn’t seem like they would miss me, so I let myself out. As soon as I closed the door, I saw Helen waiting for me.

“He won’t tell us what’s going on.”

“I gathered that,” I reply drily. “So what do you expect me to do?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, he’s your kinda guy, so I thought maybe…” She trails off meaningfully, but I’m not picking up what she’s putting down.

“What is that supposed to mean? My kinda guy?”

Cuz I sorta have two of them right now, and they couldn’t be more different, let me tell you!

“I don’t know.” Another shrug. “He’s a… ah…”

“Out with it, Helen.”

“A nerd,” she finally says apologetically.

I arch my eyebrows. Of all the things she could have said, I wouldn’t have expected that one, but I don’t argue, either. “What kind of nerd?”

“What kind?” She looks baffled.

“Yes,” I say, my face solemn. “There are many different types of us.”

“I don’t know.”

I think about the man I’d glimpsed, albeit briefly.

There wasn’t anything about him that shouted nerd to me.

I open the door and the shrieking has risen to a fevered pitch.

“Hey!” I shout sternly. Both of them fall silent and gaze back at me with slack-jawed expressions.

That’s better. “What kind of nerd are you?” I demand.

The blonde snorts.

“Hey!” he protests again.

I spear him with a look that would cause glass to splinter. Normally, I go for the empathy thing, but I just don’t have it in me today. “Answer the question.”

He gives a toss of his long hair and looks nearly dignified. “I am not a nerd. I am a fantasy connoisseur.”

“What kind of fantasy?”

He narrows his eyes. “The only kind that counts.”

“Which is? Lord of the Rings ? Legend of the Seeker ? A Court of Thorne and Roses ?”

He snorts. “ Not ACOTAR.”

“ Lord of the Rings , then.” I walk in, swing the door closed behind me, and walk to the counter. I peel two blue gloves out of the box and put them on. “And just so you know, if you call a series by its acronym, you can protest all you want, but you’re a fan.”

The blonde throws her head back and howls with laughter.

“Now, just a minute?—”

“Nope, we don’t have a minute. Ma’am, I’m going to need you to wait outside while I get Howie taken care of here.”

“Gladly.” She stands up, still laughing as she walks out the door.

Ben

“Hey, are you listening, Ross?”

I shake myself out of the daze of my thoughts. “I’m sorry. What was that?”

“I was saying do you want to grab a couple burgers? There’s a place just down the street.”

“I’m going to wait to eat with Cami tonight.”

“Ah. The girlfriend. How’s that going?”

I whip my head toward my partner, James Collins. We’ve been partnered together for two years and get on pretty well. Part of me even wants to open up, just to have someone to tell, but I hesitate. What’s happening between us—all three of us—is crazy and not something I want anyone else involved in.

“It’s good. Thanks for asking, man.”

“Sure. So… burgers? You want fries?”

I shake my head. “No thanks.”

“Well, do you mind if I get something, because I don’t have a girlfriend who’ll be waiting on me when I get off.”

“Sure,” I chuckle. “Why not? Doesn’t look like anything’s going on right now anyway.”

While he heads to grab his food, I turn my attention back to the apartment we’re staking out.

We suspect that one of the leaders of a cocaine ring, DeMar Ortega, lives in the apartment we’re watching, but so far there’s been no one inside or out.

Truthfully, I’m starting to become convinced we’re wasting our time, and I have enough going on to distract me.

I can’t stop seeing the look on Cami’s face when Ryle was there. I can’t stop wondering if she wishes we’d never gotten back together. And if he’s the father of her baby… where does that leave me?

Suddenly, I catch sight of something out of the corner of my eye.

A blur of color that makes me laser focus.

Someone running. I throw open my door practically without thinking, and I see that the person is about the build and height of our suspect.

I’m in an unmarked vehicle, I don’t know how he made me, but it’s clear he did.

I take off after him, and as soon as my shoes hit the pavement, my adrenaline is coursing hotly through my veins. “Stop! Police!” I shout as I see him approach a chain-link fence. But he vaults over the fence without breaking stride, like someone who trained to do hurdles on the Olympic team.

My hand grazes the butt of my taser, but there is no clear shot to take. I have no choice but to keep going. I clamor over the fence, boots making the metal sing as I hoist myself up and over with a grunt. As soon as my feet land with a thud, I take off again.

He’s got to get tired eventually, and when he does, I’ll be there.

DeMar sprints toward an abandoned lot, trying to lose me in the maze of the rusted cars that litter this side of town, but this is exactly what I’ve trained for. My calves are on fire, but the burn is numbed by the thrill of potentially catching Ortega.

The distance between us shrinks—he’s tired and knowing this might be over soon gives me a burst of energy that allows me to close the distance even further. I can hear his low, ragged breathing now, just before he darts down an alleyway.

Mistake. I sprint around the corner and see him, chest heaving, against the brick wall of an old, crumbling building. It’s a dead end. An end for Ortega.

Except… wouldn’t he know that? He’d grown up on these streets, dealt drugs with the same kids he used to make mud pies with.

I snatch my weapon out of its holster with trembling fingers. He’s close enough that I can make out his wide, dark eyes. The way his mouth tips in a smile a second before I see the glint of his gun.