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“Oh, I’m just checking your vitals,” Emma reassured the man with a smile.
The patient jerked back, glaring at her in… fear? Anger? Before she could think much of it, a beefy arm was wrapped around her throat, yanking her down. She cried out, eyes wide as she flailed helplessly.
No, not helpless, she reminded herself. Never helpless again.
Charge nurse Dana had told her what to do. There was a code word. What was it she was supposed to shout?
Hulu hoop!
Emma’s mouth opened, her lips forming the safe word. Nothing came out.
She glanced in fear at doors. The curtains were open, the wall made of glass. But no one was looking. No one saw her struggling, her air cut off by the man holding her down. No, no, no—
There are other ways to make noise. Emma kicked backward, hoping to hit something, anything. To send a cart crashing into the wall. To knock over an IV stand and send it clattering onto the floor. Nothing. Nothing was within her reach. No one was noticing her. No one was coming to help her.
Never helpless again.
She knew what to do, what she had to do. Still, she’d been hoping to avoid it. When she’d started taking those classes, it had mostly been to reassure herself. To have that knowledge in the back of her mind that she was not helpless, that she could protect herself if she had to. But she’d never wanted to think too much about actually needing to use it.
Emma clenched a fist, keeping her thumb outside her fingers. Without her boxing gloves, a fracture seemed likely anyhow. But that damage would be far less than a continued assault on her airway. She drew back and swung upward, pushing her whole body into the punch. The man’s head snapped back as she collided with the underside of his jaw, and his hold loosened. Emma tried to pull free, but still he kept her in that headlock.
Never helpless again.
Her hand throbbing, likely broken, Emma did not dare punch again. Her captor’s belly and groin were exposed though, and well within her reach.
Drawing her injured hand up into the air, she slammed her elbow back down onto his torso. The man folded in on himself, instinctively attempting to protect his vital organs. She struck again, this time landing a hit to his groin.
The man released her suddenly, collapsing forward to cradle his broken ball sack with a groan of anguish.
Emma staggered backward, falling against the wall, gasping in air.
Raising her head, she turned toward the doors. “Hula hoop!”
The other nurses came quickly then, one attending to the moaning patient as the others gathered around her.
“What happened?” Dana asked, pushing past the crowd.
“He grabbed me,” Emma wheezed. “Headlock.”
“Jesus H. Christ!”
“I’m sorry, I hit him. I couldn’t get enough air to scream, and—”
“Don’t apologize, kid. Come on, let’s get you out of here. We’ll do a full work up.” Dana turned to Perla. “Get Robby.”
“I’m fine. It’s just my hand.”
Dana’s eyes were wide with fury as she took in the defensive wound on her new charge. The young woman’s knuckles were already black and purple and swollen. “And get Dr. Park down here, too. Now.”
Emma let Dana lead her to an exam room, blushing furiously as the rest of the ED seemed to suddenly have nothing better to do than stare.
“Just ignore ’em,” Dana advised, seeming to sense her embarrassment.
“I’m fine, really,” Emma tried again, though she knew it was futile. Already, the pain in her hand was radiating up her wrist and arm. “I can wait.”
“Have to get it checked out, it’s hospital policy. Last thing I need is HR crawling up my ass.” As Dana closed the door to the exam room behind them, her tone softened. “And we take care of our own. Now why don’t you run me through what happened?”
Emma had just finished recalling the events to Dana when the door swung open.
A hulking mass of a man in purple scrubs strode in, eyes locked on Dana. “Evans. Care to explain why I’m being called down to consult on mild bruising to a patient’s jaw, abdomen, and groin? He could have treated those at home. He doesn’t need the ED, much less Ortho.”
“Just mild bruising?” Emma grumbled beneath her breath.
The man’s eyes sharpened on her. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Emma mumbled, casting her wide eyes to her lap. She knew it was wrong to wish further damage to her patient, but she couldn’t help but feel a little put out to hear her defenses labeled as ‘mild.’
“Dr. Park,” Dana said, “Meet our new nurse, Emma Nolan. Your actual patient.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Emma said, extending her hand for a shake before she realized.
The man—Dr. Park—locked in, eyes narrowing on her bruised and likely broken right hand. He snapped on a pair of gloves as came over, his entire body looming over her own. Dana watched Emma carefully, ready to intervene if her nurse felt even the slightest bit unsafe with the imposing man.
Though she couldn’t explain it, Emma felt perfectly safe. She should have been terrified. Notwithstanding the assault she had just suffered from her patient, Dr. Park’s presence was intimidating. He scowled as he pushed and prodded and pulled her fingers, not saying a word to her. His touch was gentle though, far gentler than she would have guessed by looking at him.
His hair was slicked straight back, as if an errant lock of hair would be too distracting. Or perhaps he simply thought the millisecond that it would take to sweep it back was an unworthy waste of his time. Likely the latter, Emma thought. Dr. Park seemed immune to distractions. He was laser focused on her injury, and she suspected that an explosion of July 4th fireworks in the hallway would not even be enough to pull his attention. She examined him closely as he examined her wound, unexpected and wholly inappropriate thoughts popping into her mind uninvited.
Like how much she’d like to pull loose a strand of that slicked back hair to see how it looked flopping over his brow. Would it be soft? Or crunchy with gel? Her nose crinkled at the thought. But perhaps with a shower…
Emma shook her head to clear it, wondering to herself if she’d suffered a brain injury as well. The intrusive thoughts persisted, nevertheless. Like how it was a miracle that the stiches of the orthopedic doctor’s scrubs did not pop—he was certainly trying them enough as he maneuvered her for his examination. His biceps are as big as my dinner plates, she thought to herself with a giggle.
Dr. Park’s head snapped up, his examination momentarily forgotten, at the sound. Dark eyes bored into her own.
“Sorry,” Emma squeaked.
Dr. Park only stared at her mouth.
“Um…I…” Emma’s brain scrambled to catch up, to find something appropriate to say. She glanced sideways at Dana, but the charge nurse only raised her brows expectantly. “…I…ah…”
“Spit it out,” Dr. Park snapped, the command ringing in his voice.
Emma’s eyes widened further. “Um… I hit him?”
“What?”
“I…ah…the patient. With the bruising. I hit him. I didn’t mean to, I swear. I was just trying to take his vitals and he grabbed me and he put me in a headlock. And Dana taught me the safe word—”
At this, Dr. Park adjusted his seat, though Emma did not notice. She continued, unaware of the attending’s own intrusive thoughts.
“—and I do know it. It’s hula hoop. It’s just that with him grabbing me like that, I couldn’t scream for help. And I tried to kick something, you know, thinking if I could knock something over, that it would make enough noise for someone to notice. But I couldn’t. And no one did, and so I finally had to just choose. And I take these boxing classes because… well… anyway, that’s a long story. But I guess I just wanted to know that I could protect myself. But I didn’t want to hurt anyone, I swear. I just…I was sort of out of options, and now I’ve hurt the patient, and myself, and—”
“Stop talking.” Dr. Park glared at her.
Emma’s eyes began to water slightly, and she couldn’t keep the wobble from her voice. “What?”
“Don’t be an idiot. You did the right thing, protecting yourself. If anything like that ever happens again, don’t hesitate. Hit him. Hard.” He stroked a thumb gently over the bruises on her knuckles. “I’ll put your pieces back together.”
Emma’s breath came faster, growing uneven. Still, there was not an ounce of the fear that had come her earlier. Something else was overtaking her mind, shadowing her rational self and keeping her from being able to look away from Dr. Park’s dark stare.
Whatever ailment had taken her, he seemed to be afflicted with it, too. His chin tilted sideways as he took her in, his eyes never wavering from her own.
“Jesus H. Christ,” someone muttered elsewhere in the room.
But Emma was beyond noticing or caring. She did not dare break the strange connection with the man in front of her. She was suddenly reminded of the shark she’d seen at the aquarium as a child—its cold stare standing up every hair on her arms, urging her to run, though she knew it would not harm her. She had not been able to look away then, either. Though she was not sure what to name the feeling, something about those eyes compelled her, fascinated her, kept her swimming in their depths.
“What happened?” Dr. Robby came running in, sending the door flying. Dr. Whitaker was hot on his heels.
Dr. Park cleared his throat, the moment broken. Emma looked away, blushing.
“And where were you two?” Dana asked, eyeing the chief attending of the ED over the rim of her glasses.
The older man blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What’s going on in here?” he asked, pointedly ignoring her question.
Dana glared like an over-tired mother at the pair. “Another HR nightmare.”