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Meadow

Present Day

I can’t stop yawning as I stare at my almost empty plate. The last six years have been a blur as I accelerated through high school, completed college in two years, and finished medical school in just three. Now, as a resident doctor, I’m back in my hometown after being away for so long. It’s a much smaller city than the one I was living in before, but it still feels bigger than the one I grew up in. I can’t help but feel exhausted from all the changes and new experiences.

The hospital buzzes around me, a stark contrast to my sluggish movements. I gulp down lukewarm coffee, grimacing at the taste. A nurse rushes by, chart in hand.

“Dr. Beckham, you’re needed in delivery room three.”

I nod, forcing myself to stand. The world tilts for a moment. I steady myself against the table, blinking hard.

The elevator ride feels endless. I lean against the wall, eyes closed. The doors ping open.

Screams echo down the hallway. I quicken my pace, adrenaline kicking in. This is what I trained for.

I hurry into the delivery room. The mother’s face is contorted in pain. Her husband looks terrified.

“I’m Dr. Beckham,” I say, voice steady despite my fatigue. “Let’s bring this baby into the world.”

Hours blur by. Finally, a cry pierces the air. I hold up the squirming newborn, a smile breaking across my face.

“It’s a girl,” I announce.

The parents sob with joy. I place the baby on her mother’s chest, stepping back to watch the moment unfold.

This. This is why I pushed myself so hard. Why I sacrificed my youth, my social life. For moments like these.

As I leave the room, my pager beeps. I take a breath and head toward my next patient, feeling more awake than I have in days.

After being awake for twenty-four hours straight, I collapse into my apartment that I’m renting on the outskirts of town that one of the Grim Sinners own with the MC located right down the road.

My dad wanted to make sure I was safe and there is nothing safer than being in the MC’s backyard.

I muster up the last of my energy and step into the shower, feeling the hot water relax my muscles. I plug my phone in to charge and collapse onto the pillow, instantly falling asleep.

I sleep a solid twelve hours before my phone goes off.

I groan, forcing my eyes open. The room spins. I fumble for my phone, squinting at the bright screen. I read the text from one of my nurses to let me know a woman has come in with complications.

On my way , I text back.

My body protests as I drag myself out of bed. I throw on scrubs then grab my keys. The drive to the hospital is a blur.

I rush through the emergency room doors. Chaos greets me. Nurses shout orders. Machines beep urgently.

“What do we have?” I ask, snapping on gloves.

“Thirty-two weeks pregnant. Severe preeclampsia. BP is through the roof.”

I nod, approaching the patient. Her face is pale, sweat beading on her forehead.

“I’m Dr. Beckham. We’re going to take care of you.”

Her eyes lock on to mine, filled with fear. I squeeze her hand.

“Baby’s heart rate is dropping,” a nurse calls out.

“Prep for emergency C-section,” I order.

We race against time. The OR lights blind me. I take a breath, scalpel poised.

“Let’s save them both.”

Minutes feel like hours. Finally, a tiny cry fills the room.

“Got her,” I announce, relief flooding me.

But it’s not over. The mother’s bleeding heavily.

Alarms blare.

“She’s coding!”

My hands are steady despite my racing heart.

“Come on,” I mutter. “Stay with us.”

After what feels like an eternity, the monitors stabilize. I exhale shakily.

As I exit the OR, exhaustion hits me like a truck. I lean against the wall, closing my eyes briefly.

A hand touches my shoulder. I look up to see the father, tears in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

I manage a tired smile. This is why I do what I do.

My pager beeps again. No rest for the weary. I straighten up and move to the nurses’ station where I sit down, rubbing my face from the stress.

There’s nothing worse than having a close call like this, it’s heartbreaking to see the fear and pain on a mother’s face.

I feel a presence standing in front of me and look up to see my dad. “Hi, Daddy.”

“I’ve come to take my daughter out for lunch.” I can see the nurses eyeing my dad, some with fear and some with something I don’t even want to think about.

I glance at my watch, realizing I haven’t eaten in hours. My stomach growls in response.

“Lunch sounds perfect,” I say, standing up. “Let me just check on a few patients first.”

Dad nods, his eyes softening. “Take your time, sweetheart.”

I make my rounds quickly, ensuring everyone is stable. When I return, Dad’s chatting with a wide-eyed intern. The poor kid looks terrified.

“Ready?” Dad asks, turning to me.

We head out, ignoring the stares that follow us. Dad’s reputation precedes him, even here.

The diner across the street is quiet this time of day. We slide into a booth, and I immediately reach for the coffee.

“You look exhausted,” Dad says, concern lacing his voice.

I shrug. “Comes with the job.”

He frowns, about to say more, when the waitress approaches. We order, and I brace myself for the lecture I know is coming.

“Meadow,” he starts, voice low. “You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

I sigh. “I’m fine, Dad. Really.”

He raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You’re living on coffee and adrenaline. That’s not sustainable.”

I open my mouth to argue, but Dad holds up a hand.

“I know, I know. You’re an adult. It’s your life.” He leans forward, eyes intense. “But you’re still my little girl. I worry.”

The waitress returns with our food. I pick at my salad, appetite suddenly gone.

“I’m doing important work, Dad. Saving lives.”

“At the cost of your own health?” He shakes his head. “There’s more to life than work, Meadow.”

I bristle. “Says the man who built an empire.”

Dad’s eyes flash. “That’s different.”

“How?” I challenge.

He’s silent for a moment. “I had people. A support system. You…”

“I have colleagues,” I interject.

“It’s not the same,” he insists. “You need friends. A life outside the hospital.”

I stab a piece of lettuce. “I don’t have time for that.”

Dad sighs heavily. “Make time. Or you’ll burn out.”

Before I can respond, my pager beeps. I check it, relief and disappointment warring within me.

“I have to go,” I say, standing. “Emergency C-section.”

Dad nods, resignation in his eyes. “Be careful, sweetheart.”

I lean down, kissing his cheek. “Always am.”

As I rush back to the hospital, Dad’s words echo in my mind. But I push them aside.

Some of the older doctors glare at me throughout the day as they pass, they don’t respect me and think of me as too young to be a resident.

I busted my ass, finished high school in my early teenage years, and went to college, so I was way ahead of normal kids.

It’s after another surgery that went better than the first one this morning when Konrad, the chief of surgery and a member of the Grim Sinners MC, approaches me.

“Hi, Meadow, how are you handling everything?” I have a sneaking suspicion that my dad called him to check up on me.

My dad is extremely protective over me. Even when I was in college, he would visit my dorm every week, fill my fridge with food, and make sure my oil was changed.

I will never get mad at him for being this way; some girls would get pissed at their father meddling, but I’d rather have my dad caring about me than not.

“I have a case I want you to look into. I’ve got the ball rolling but she is needing a new OB,” he explains, handing me a file for me to read over.

I recognize the name at the top and smile at the thought of Elle being pregnant. She is a Grim Sinners princess and a few years younger than me.

I flip through Elle’s file, scanning the details. Konrad watches me, his expression unreadable.

“Thanks,” I say, closing the folder. “I’ll take good care of her.”

He nods, then hesitates. “Your father called me.”

I sigh, unsurprised. “Of course he did.”

Konrad’s eyes soften. “He’s just worried, Meadow. We all are.”

I bristle. “I’m fine. I can handle my job.”

“No one’s questioning your abilities,” he says gently. “But you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

Before I can respond, my pager beeps again. I check it, thankful for the interruption.

“Gotta go,” I say, already moving. “Thanks for the case.”

As I hurry down the hall, I feel Konrad’s concerned gaze on my back. I push it aside, focusing on my next patient.

Hours blur by. Consultations, surgeries, rounds. My feet ache, but I keep moving.

Finally, a lull. I collapse into a chair at the nurses’ station, rubbing my temples.

Dr. Thompson, another resident, plops down beside me. Her smile is sickeningly sweet.

“Long day, Dr. Beckham?” she asks, voice dripping with false concern.

I nod, too tired to engage.

She leans closer, lowering her voice. “Must be nice, having connections. Makes things so much easier, doesn’t it?”

My head snaps up, fatigue forgotten. “Excuse me?”

Her smile widens. “Oh, you know. Your father. The MC. I’m sure that helped you breeze through med school.”

Anger flares in my chest. I stand, looming over her.

“I earned my place here,” I hiss. “Every sleepless night, every missed social event, every sacrifice. That was all me. Not my father. Not the MC.”

Dr. Thompson’s eyes widen, her smug expression faltering.

I lean in, voice low. “Question my skills all you want, but never doubt my dedication.”

I turn on my heel, striding away. My heart pounds, hands shaking with suppressed rage.

A nurse calls out to me, but I barely hear her. I need air. Space to breathe.

I sit down on a bench outside of the building and scroll through the test results Elle has received and I grow more pissed by the second at the way her other OB has treated her, and someone has tried to harm her by poisoning her and her baby.

Deciding to take on her case, I square my shoulders before I make my way back into the building once again.

Konrad is standing at the nurses’ station, still looking through some papers.

“I will take the case. I’m appalled by everything that has happened to her.”

Doctor Thompson has her eyes on me as I talk with Konrad, and if looks could kill I would be dead.

“Want me to go to see her now?” I ask him and he nods.

“I will show you the way.”

I see members of the MC floating around the hallway, letting me know we’re close to her room.

Konrad knocks on the door and has me enter ahead of him then walks on down the hallway when a monitor starts beeping.

So I guess I’m going in alone. I prepare myself for this and paste on a smile.

My first crush is sitting in a chair, looking in my direction.

I swallow hard, not particularly liking the fact that his gaze is pointed at me, but oh my God, he is beautiful.

He was way too good-looking when we were teenagers, but now? He is a man.

I turn my attention to the girl lying in the middle of the hospital bed, her face pale, and I can tell this whole ordeal has been hard on her.

“Hi! I’m Dr. Beckham.” I smile at her. “Since we sort of know each other, call me Meadow,” I greet, referring to when we hung out years ago when we were younger.

She smiles at me weakly. “It’s nice to see you again.” I shake her hand, looking her over from where I’m standing.

Her eyes widen and she looks over my shoulder, so I follow her gaze to see Mason standing right behind me.

My heart starts jumping in my chest, and I push that back down and move back into professional mode.

“It’s very nice to see you, Meadow,” he says in his deep voice. I forgot how low his voice was when we were younger but now it’s deeper, more dark and rugged.

My face reddens against my will as he takes my hand in his and lifts it to his mouth, kissing the back of it.

Holy shit.

I muster all of my will and clear my throat. “It’s nice to meet you again.” My voice cracks slightly before I can correct it.

I can feel everyone’s eyes on the two of us, so I slowly slide my hand out from under his and go back to my patient, turning my back to him.

Elle is grinning at us. “Can I have the room empty with just our patient here? I’m going to examine her, if that’s okay with everyone.” I include everyone but my eyes are on Elle to see if she is good with that.

Her father and Mason practically sprint out of the room, but Christopher and her mom both stay.

She looks scared, and one thing I hate is when girls come in for exams and they’re terrified and expecting it to be painful.

When I was fourteen, I had a medical exam because my periods were awful and I had to be put on birth control.The doctor was cold and just went through the motions. While it wasn’t a big deal to the doctor, it was to me.

I sit down on the edge of her bed. “I understand you’ve had a horrible ordeal, and I want to apologize for the things that’s happened to you. I hope I can help you feel better.”

She relaxes into the bed. “Thank you for that. I’m feeling much better.”

I pat her hand and give her a squeeze before lifting my iPad to look over her labs once again.

“I have gone all over your tests and everything is much better, but I just want to physically exam you, with your permission.”

Even though I wasn’t in town when Elle was assaulted, I heard about it from family members and cousins because our club was contacted to see if they could help find the guy who did it.

She studies me for a moment and smiles before saying, “Sure.”

She scoots to the end of the bed where I pull out the stirrups, lowering the bed to give me better access.

Her legs are shaking as I move to sit down in my seat to prepare for the exam.

I gently place my hand on Elle’s knee, offering a reassuring smile. “Take a deep breath,” I say softly. “I’ll go slow and explain everything I’m doing. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, just say the word and we’ll stop. Okay?”

Elle nods, visibly relaxing at my words. I can see the trust building in her eyes.

As I begin the examination, I maintain a steady stream of conversation, explaining each step and checking in with Elle frequently. Her mother holds her hand, murmuring words of encouragement.

“Everything looks good,” I say as I finish up. “The baby’s position is perfect, and there are no signs of any lingering issues from the poisoning attempt.”

Relief washes over Elle’s face. “Really?”

I nod, smiling. “Really. You and your little one are fighters.”

Christopher looks over to me, mouthing, Thank you , and I give him a slight nod of acknowledgment.

“We have a couple of options for you.” I lift my tablet and add in the details of her exam.

“I do home visits, which is rare, I know, but I do. Home births are an option, if that is something you want to do. I have moved to the outskirts of town close to the MC, so it’s easy to get to your place, if that’s what you want.”

She ponders for a few seconds. “I would love to go home if you could come to our place?”

I smile, knowing that was going to be her answer. Hospitals are important but they can be exhausting and for someone who has been through something so traumatic, being home would improve her quality of life.

“I can do that. I want to do another round of labs to be on the safe side while you’re still here. If that’s all good, then I can send you home.”

She lifts her arm eagerly for me to take her blood, causing me to laugh at her antics. “I will personally handle this under the circumstances.” I hold the blood vials that I brought in with me on a tray.

I leave the room and in the hallway is Mason, her dad, and a couple of other people that I can’t name right now.

I slip into a room down the hall, but that doesn’t stop the fact that I hear Mason say, “I’m fucked.”

I bite my lip so I don’t laugh out loud and let him know that I heard.

I stay with Elle’s labs the whole time, so there’s no chance for anything to be messed with.

Once I have the results, I go straight back to her room and I’m pleased with the changes. “Your labs are so much better than they were yesterday! It’s safe for you to go home. I’m going to write a prescription for some medications and you can take it to the pharmacy. Along with a list of things to build your strength back up, since you have lost weight during this whole ordeal.”

Her mom plucks it from my hand and it takes everything in me to not whip around to stare at Mason because I can feel his eyes burning holes into the back of my head.

I pull some of my cards out of my pocket that has my personal number on it. “I will be by later to check in with you. Here is my personal cell phone number if you need anything at all.” I hand her mom and Christopher a card each. Another hand shoots out and I don’t look until it’s too late to see who it belongs to before I hand them a card.

My eyes widen in shock and I try to pull the card back, but he pulls harder, taking it from me and stuffing it dramatically in his front pocket. “I didn’t mean to,” I say, not wanting them to think I was being inappropriate.

Mason looks away and I swear he is fighting a smile.

“Well, I will see you later,” I tell them and rush out of the room, needing to breathe.

I can feel the flush on my cheeks from the attention and the thrill, and I liked it.

Dr. Thompson is still sitting in the same place as she was earlier, looking worse for wear, and I walk past her while she whispers something under her breath about Daddy’s money.

I start to count under my breath to stop myself from saying anything but it’s not in me to just lay down and let someone fuck with me.

I set my iPad on the counter before looking down at her. “Aww, do you have daddy issues?” I make my face like I’m concerned and genuinely care.

Dr. Thompson’s face flushes red with anger. She stands up abruptly, the chair legs scraping against the floor.

“You little—” she starts, but I cut her off.

“Careful now,” I say, my voice low. “Wouldn’t want to say something unprofessional now, would we?”

She glares at me, fists clenched at her sides. I can see her struggling to maintain her composure.

“You think you’re so special,” she hisses. “But you’re nothing without your connections.”

I lean in close, maintaining eye contact with her. “I’ve worked harder than you can imagine to get where I am. My ‘connections’ didn’t take my exams or perform my surgeries. That was all me.”

Dr. Thompson opens her mouth to retort, but a throat clearing interrupts us. We both turn to see Konrad standing there, eyebrow raised.

“Is there a problem here?” he asks, his tone making it clear he expects a negative answer.

“No, sir,” Dr. Thompson says quickly, plastering on a fake smile. “Just a friendly chat.”

I nod in agreement, not trusting myself to speak without letting my anger show.

Konrad looks between us, clearly not buying it. “Good. Because I’d hate to think two of our most promising residents were engaging in unprofessional behavior.”

With that, he walks away, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.

Dr. Thompson glares at me one last time before storming off. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

As I turn to leave, I notice Mason leaning against the wall, watching me with an amused expression. My heart skips a beat.

“Quite the firecracker, aren’t you?” he says, pushing off the wall and approaching me.

I feel my face heat up. “I don’t like bullies,” I mutter.

Mason chuckles, the sound sending chills down my spine. “Clearly.” He pauses, his expression turning serious. “Thank you for taking care of Elle. It means a lot to all of us.”

I nod, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. “Of course. It’s my job.”

“Still,” he says, reaching out to touch my arm. “Thank you.”

The contact sends electricity through my body. I step back, needing to put some distance between us.

“I should go,” I say, gesturing vaguely. “Patients to see.”

Mason nods, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Of course. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other, Dr. Beckham.”

The way he says my name makes my knees weak. I manage a nod before hurrying away, feeling his eyes on me the entire time.

As I round the corner, I lean against the wall, taking calming breaths. What am I getting myself into?

Around the corner, Konrad is leaning against the wall with a massive grin on his face. “You are your daddy’s daughter, aren’t you?” With that, he winks and goes into his office.

I rub my hand across my forehead, trying not to laugh. My temper is one thing I have fought, trying to push it down and stay professional.

The day crawls by, each minute stretching into an eternity. Dr. Shithead’s glares burn into my back, her disdain palpable, but I grit my teeth, focusing on my patients instead of her petty bullshit.