Page 32 of Forbidden Confessions, Volume 2 (The Forbidden Volumes #1)

S uddenly, a sharp rap on the door yanks me from my distress. I rinse my hands in the sink in the surgical room, dash to the front of the office, and turn the key to let Ethan in.

He gives me a quick once-over, raises his brow at my bra and jeans, then looks past me. “Where is he?”

I lock the door again. “Follow me. Anyone out there?”

“No one.” Ethan is right behind me as I lead him through the waiting area, into the surgical room, then to the back hallway.

He stops short. “Fuck. Let’s get him on the table and get his shirt off.”

“Yeah. Then I can see the damage. I know how to stitch him up. The doctor has shown me how to do some emergency care since I took over this weekend shift and…” I’m babbling nervously.

Ethan crouches beside his dad and slips his hands under his prone form. “Get on the other side. We’ll have to lift him.”

That makes me nervous. I’m not strong. I’m a couple inches taller than the average girl, but I’ve always been more curves than muscles. “What if I drop him?”

“You won’t. We have to do this now.”

“You’re right.” I need to keep it together.

On Ransom’s other side, I copy Ethan’s pose. Vaguely, I’m aware of my bra gaping, and Ethan is probably getting a great view of my cleavage, but if he cares about my boobs, it doesn’t show.

“Ready?”

As I’m ever going to be. “Yeah.”

“One. Two. Three!”

Together, we lift. My arms strain as I struggle to stand while bearing even a fraction of Ransom’s weight, but Ethan, bless him, plays football and works out. If his bulging arms and the tendons standing out from his neck are anything to go by, he’s supporting more than half the load.

Together, we get Ransom onto the board, then gingerly roll him onto the metal slab of the cart. As soon as he’s clear of Ethan’s arms, I kick the lever locking the wheels up, and we’re off.

In the surgical room, I flip on all the lights.

Ethan frowns at the bins of medical supplies. “I don’t know what half this shit is.”

This is where I can be useful. “I got it. Get his coat and shirt off. Find all his injuries. I didn’t even get a chance to check his legs or anything before I panicked and called you.”

He nods. “Go.”

I turn to the shelves that contain Dr. Robbins’s day-to-day surgical supplies.

Syringes and gloves, check. I pull down vials of antibiotics and pain meds, doing the mental calculations she taught me on dosage per weight.

Ransom isn’t an animal, per se, and I’ll have to estimate, but I hope this quick-and-dirty assessment will do in a pinch.

Then I find some suture thread and a needle, along with some tubing that should work for a homemade transfusion kit.

It’s a blessing that Dr. Robbins takes on the occasional emergency patient.

Along the way, I’ve asked questions. She always answers while she works, like talking through the situation helps her validate her care decisions.

I’ve paid attention and memorized the important stuff since I want to be a vet someday.

I hate that all of this is probably way beyond my ability, but what choice do I have if Ransom won’t let me call professionals?

“Done,” Ethan says behind me. “Looks like a wound in his left biceps and a fucking bleeder in his neck, both where bullets grazed him. No penetrative wounds, and nothing on the lower half of his body.”

“O-okay.” It’s good information, but I’m so damn nervous. “Let me wash up, and I’ll get started.”

As I head to the sink and douse my hands in soap, Ethan follows. “What did he say to you? How did this happen?”

I shrug. “There were gunshots outside. I called the police. It got quiet, then he broke in through the back door. He told me not to call nine-one-one and passed out.”

Ethan frowns. “Any idea why he was here?”

I’d love to believe that Ransom came for me on my birthday, like he promised. But that’s wishful thinking. How would he even know where to find me? I wasn’t working here seven weeks ago when I left his house before, as he put it, he did something we’d both regret.

“No.”

I turn off the faucet with my elbow, dry my hands on a sterile towel, and grab a pair of gloves from the box on the wall. My fingers are shaking. I hold the life of the man I love in my inexperienced hands. If I screw this up and he dies, the guilt will kill me, to say nothing of the grief.

Drawing in a deep breath, I try to get myself together.

Ethan lays a gentle hand on my back. “Just do your best. Neither of us can ask more of you than that.”

Guilt assails me again. Why couldn’t I have fallen for him? It would have been simpler. But once I met Ransom, no other man in the world existed for me.

I have to save his life. I’ll apologize to Ethan for throwing myself at his father later.

“Thanks. I’m going to need your help, though. Scrub up and get some gloves on.”

“Sure thing.”

He moves in front of the sink, and I turn all my focus on Ransom.

I’ve never seen him naked from the waist up, and if he wasn’t bleeding, I’d spend time appreciating how male he is—bulging shoulders, hair-roughened pecs, ripped abs, lean forearms striated with veins, and those insane notches above his hips that make my belly clench.

But now I’m worried he’s lying too still and even paler than the last time I looked.

Tamping down my panic, I set my fingers at his wrist. I wish I had a blood pressure cuff, but I don’t, so I manage a quick check of Ransom’s pulse. It should be stronger…but it’s there.

Relieved, I draw a syringe with some pain meds—I don’t want him waking up in the middle of this—and administer it.

I can only hope it will keep him under so I can patch him up.

Thankfully, he’s got veins for days. Then I wipe away the blood on his arm and his neck.

The latter wound is far more serious. I’ll need to suture it first. I’ve actually done a couple of animals, so it’s not my first rodeo.

Yeah, under Dr. Robbins’s guidance. Tonight, this is all you .

Gulping down my nerves, I bandage the wound on his arm to slow the bleeding and focus on the neck.

I clean and disinfect it, spray it with a little lidocaine, then start inserting the needle into his skin.

I wince. The feel is almost as horrible as the sterile smell.

I don’t mind this on animals, but tonight I’m trying to save the man I fell for against all odds.

“Breathe,” Ethan encourages, now beside me, gloves in place. “You got this.”

I freaking hope so.

After I put ten tiny stitches in his neck as neatly as I know how, I back away with a jagged sigh, then set in again on his arm.

Since I’ve managed the hard part, I’m feeling better.

It only takes a few stitches to close up the gash in his biceps.

I check his pulse again. It’s steady, but still not as strong as I want.

Two minutes later, I’ve managed to bandage his wounds to stem any additional bleeding. It’s tapered off and should stop altogether soon.

Finally, I hold up the syringes and tubing I pulled out for the transfusion. “I don’t know how to do this, but I think he needs blood.”

“I’ve done this part. Leave it to me.”

I’m horrified. “How often does he turn up in this shape?”

Ethan gets quiet again. “The first time, I was fourteen, right after my mother finally decided I was too much like Dad and dropped me on his doorstep for good. Probably the best thing she ever did, honestly. But it was late one night when my uncle Ridge barged through the front door, carrying my dad, who looked all kinds of fucked up. Ridge came equipped with tubing and blood packs he swiped from a clinic, but he had me help Dad. It’s happened a couple times since. Not often…but it’s always rough.”

What is Ransom? And what am I getting myself into?

Now isn’t the time for questions.

“What do we need to do?”

Ethan hooks his foot around the leg of a rolling stool and drags it under my ass. “Sit. Close your eyes. Leave this to me.”

With a bob of my head, I do. I hear him working. The rubber tourniquet goes around my arm and squeezes. He swipes alcohol over the crook of my elbow. A minute later, the needle goes in my vein, first try. Almost no pain.

“There it is…” he murmurs.

“That’s it? You’re a pro.”

“Thanks. Never done this without help, but I guess there’s always a first time.”

Like me and stitches.

“Yeah.” I feel the blood traveling through my veins, exiting at the injection site. Ugh, this always gets me a little queasy. I need to talk to distract myself. And I need to say something to Ethan. “I’m sorry.”

“That you’re more into my dad than you were ever into me?”

I nod. “I couldn’t help it.”

“I know. And I’m sorry I got pissed at you.

But I know it wasn’t one-sided. I saw the way Dad looked at you.

I knew he wanted you in a way I didn’t. I mean, you’re hot, and if you had been willing, I would have gladly fucked you.

” Ethan takes my chin in his grip, and I find myself staring into his hazel eyes.

“But he wanted you. He burned for you. He fell for you.”

Those words make me go hot all over. “I fell for him, too.”

At my whisper, Ethan lets go. “Close your eyes again.”

I do. I need time to think.

“Something’s happened to you,” I blurt. “You’ve grown up in the last couple of months.”

He hesitates. “Let’s just say I’m finding my way.”

Then silence falls. Neither of us tries to fill it, which is a relief because I’m getting dizzy and I’m feeling the fact I skipped dinner.

Seconds later, Ethan removes the needle from my arm, sticks a cotton ball over the entry point, then finishes up with a quick bandage. When I open my eyes, he’s already done the same to his dad’s arm.

But Ransom’s color looks a hundred times better.

I glance up at him. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to. He’s my dad, remember? Just don’t break his heart, huh?”

More like the other way around, but if he lives, I’ll feel more than blessed.

“I never would.” But I think Ransom has already written off any potential future we might have together. “Are you going to take him home?”

If Ethan does, he might need help. I could stay and take care of Ransom until he rebounds. I’ll treasure the time we have together because he’ll probably ask me to leave again.

Ethan shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s smart. If whoever shot him knows his identity…”

They’ll only follow Ransom home. “Oh, that makes sense.”

“If I go back and act like nothing is wrong, it might deflect suspicion. And if things get hot, I’ll call one of my uncles. Plus, you have more medical knowledge and access to supplies.” Ethan gestures to the shelves behind him. “Got any ideas where to take Dad? You can’t stay here.”

He’s right. “My apartment, I guess.”

“Probably too obvious and not secure enough.” He pauses, thinks, then sighs.

“Listen… I know of a place. It’s the party pad of a friend of a friend.

He’s not in town right now, but he said I could use it whenever I want.

It’s behind a gate, so it’s secluded and private.

I’ll try to figure out who shot Dad and why.

You stash him there until he’s well enough to defend himself. ”

I have no idea how long that will take, but other than a quick animal check tomorrow afternoon, I’m not scheduled to work again until Wednesday. Hopefully, that’s long enough. “Okay.”

As I clean up the surgical room, Ethan stuffs his father back into his bloody T-shirt. Thankfully, it’s black, so the blood doesn’t show. I find spare towels in the storeroom, near the cleaning supplies, so my car won’t get blood-soaked.

But I have nothing to wear except a bra and jeans.

Ethan whips off his shirt and hands it to me. “Put this on. It might save you.”

“Save me?”

He raises a brow. “Dad won’t be out long, and he’ll bounce back fast. When he comes to, if that’s all you’re wearing…” He lets me imagine the rest. “You still a virgin?”

“Yes.”

The tilt of Ethan’s mouth is nothing short of cynical. “If he gets a look at you dressed like that, you won’t be for long.”