She quickened her pace, struggling a bit in her gown and heels. He jogged next to her. “Ok, what do we got? What did they say?”
She headed toward the emergency room. “We need to get you scrubbed in like yesterday. Gunshot wound to the chest. They’re bringing her in now.” She stopped and looked up at him. “I’m sure they’ll tell us the details in there, but they said this is a high-profile VIP case, and we need to use discretion.”
He shook his head. “Dammit. Are you in the O.R. with me on this?”
She nodded. “Yes. I wasn’t on call tonight, but the other O.R. nurse is sick, so I volunteered.”
They headed into the hospital, eager to find out details. Kyle quickly learned that the surgeon on call was stuck in a sig alert on the 405 freeway and wouldn’t arrive for at least an hour. The attending surgeon, Dr. Perry, specifically requested Kyle, knowing he had just left the hospital and was in close range.
As he hastily shed his tuxedo for scrubs, he had a bad feeling that confused him. He took a second look at the silver Tiffany cufflinks engraved with his initials, a gift that he still held so dear. They were the only item from his past that he took with him to start the new chapter of his life years ago. He frowned, confused by his intense focus on them and the memories attached. He squeezed them in his hand for a moment, before carefully tucking them away in his locker.
The impending sense of doom returned as he left the physician’s lounge for the operating room. He had done so many emergency surgeries before, but something about this one felt strange and he couldn’t place it. He entered the prep room apprehensively, feeling a momentary ease come over him seeing Emily already scrubbed up and ready to assist.
Her brown eyes were wide and reflected a level of concern he had never seen as she stared up at him. He frowned, concerned. Rarely had he seen her shaken by anything. “Em, what’s wrong? Is it bad?”
She gulped and spoke slowly. “Kyle, it’s her on the table.”
He frowned again. “Her who?”
She stared at him. “The girl from the magazine covers.”
He felt his heart skip a beat and then calmed down, hoping he wasn’t jumping to conclusions. He figured Emily was confused. “What girl from what magazine covers? What are you talking about?”
She pointed into the operating room. “The redhead that spun you out that night. She was on the cover of Platinum Magazine and Billboard. You drank way too much alone on your couch. Remember? Those magazines you asked me to buy for you when you were coming off a crazy thirty-eight hour shift. She’s some big music exec or producer or something. I think she won a Grammy last year. I think her name is Kit…”
He followed her gaze into the operating room, his worst nightmare coming true at that moment. He felt like someone was ripping his heart out again and wondered how this happened. He swallowed hard, his eyes remaining trained on her through the glass as he spoke slowly. “Kit McKenna.”
She nodded. “Yes, now Dr. Perry looks like he’s about to kill you, and you do not want to piss him off. You know you’re his golden boy resident. Don’t screw that up. C’mon, focus. So what if she’s a celebrity? They’re just like normal people. Forget your celebrity crush and be the amazing surgeon you are. We got to get you scrubbed up and into the O.R.”
He entered the operating room moments later, trying his best to shove his personal feelings aside. When he stared down at her lying on the table, helpless and fighting for her life, he stalled. Dr. Perry’s urgent, curt voice jolted him back into the severity of the situation, and he got to work.
* * *
Sully and his brother Danny sat at opposite ends of the jet in complete silence. After the flight attendant refreshed Sully’s drink for the third time, he reached for the phone and dialed a number. Moments later he started with small talk. As Danny tried to focus on reading the paper, he overheard Sully speaking.
Sully sat back, drink in hand as he stared out the window. “How are you feeling, sweetie? Yeah… I’m on my way to L.A… I can’t talk about it right now. I can call you later. I won’t be back on the road until things get figured out… Hang in there. I love you… Yeah, ok… bye.”
He hung up the phone and let out a long sigh. Danny got up from where he was sitting and headed over to the table to sit across from Sully who had proceeded to lay out a few lines of cocaine and snort them.
Danny donned a disapproving stare. “Pat, when are you gonna stop this shit?” He shook his head.
Sully sniffled, wiped his nose clean and met Danny’s eyes. “When this fucking tour is over. You have no idea the pressure I’m under every fucking day.”
Danny chided. “You may look a little older, but you’re singing the same old sad song you always did. You’re selfish, Pat. When are you gonna grow the fuck up?”
Sully glared. “Where the fuck is this coming from? Is this about Kendalle? I don’t really need this right now. My wife could be dying.” He shifted his gaze away and stared out the window at the bed of fluffy white clouds doing his best to distract himself with thoughts about song ideas.
Angered, Danny shook his head and couldn’t hold back. “Wouldn’t that be more convenient for you?”
Sully jumped up from his seat
