TAKING OVER TROFIM (Dominion of Brothers series Book 4) (13 page)

“Did you ever go out with her?”

“Only to functions set up by our folks. Otherwise, I was too busy studying. I even got out of having sex with her.”

Trofim raised his eyes up to see Shay looking down his own cheek at him expecting his look. “How’d you do that?”

“They’d arrange dinners for us and I was always turning her advances down. She was getting pretty upset about it. I guess she went to her mom or something, because they confronted me on the topic. I told them I wasn’t willing to sleep with her until after we were married. Her mom didn’t seem to have too much of a problem with it after that, but my dad— well you know what he was thinking. So to counter object it, I said something crude in front of her parents, along the lines that some girls were for fucking and others were for marrying. You don’t marry the girl you bang to get your dick wet.” I got a right hook from my dad, but her parents didn’t want their daughter labeled a pre-wed whore. So they went along with that, as well as all the other stuff.”

“So you’ve never—”

“No.” Shay kissed the top of Trofim’s head and his arms tightened around him, “Never. Nor will I. I’ll never cheat on you. You know this.”

Trofim did know this. At least, in a gay sense.
When they’d been together before, Shay had been all about his lover. He walked, talked, ate, and slept with Trofim on his mind. Shay couldn’t even look at another man without feeling guilty for it. Once, at a pride parade, Trofim recalled, someone swooped in and kissed Shay and he nearly broke out in a sweat over it. So no, Shay would never cheat on him. But, a woman was different. They followed under a different set of rules. Jumping the fence was not considered cheating—
by a lot of guys
. Regardless of what side of the fence the guy started on. Trofim had long since learned that in college. There were plenty of guys with girlfriends that weren’t considered gay, but they fucked other guys in the dorm. More so if their girlfriends weren’t putting out. Guys, especially those who were openly gay often went for sex as often as possible.
Most of the time
. He hadn’t been any different. Lucky for him, Shay had always been in the mood.

And then there was the other issue; they’d been apart for five years. To think either of them hadn’t slept with anyone during that time was selfish and ridiculous, though counting the ones he had, Trofim felt a pang of guilt for each one. “I slept with a few guys while I was away.”

Shay’s arm tightened despite the shudder that ran down his body, letting Trofim know he didn’t like it, but certainly wasn’t going to let Trofim go because of it either. Shay kissed his head again and whispered into his hair, “I know. As did I.”

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CHAPTER FIVE

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“There you are.” A high pitched female voice carrying a falsetto of cheer grated across Shay’s skin with its unwelcomed familiarity, just as he was approaching the nurse’s station to turn over some files on his patient rounds. Shay glanced up to see the young woman trying to hide her disappointment behind a smile. Gold bordering on strawberry blonde hair smoothed into perfect glossy strands fell just past her shoulders, and flipped under, in a way meant to draw attention to her neck. Even the top two buttons of her crème colored blouse were undone, revealing a gold chain with an S initial made of diamonds placed perfectly in the gullet of her throat. Every part of her perfectly planned as if he’d shared his inner secrets of what attracted him and she was set on luring him to them. The old game of drawing attention to what parts of the body were thought sexiest. Only she was missing the most important part.

“What are you doing here, Sarah?” He asked in a detached tone.

Sarah slid around the corner of the station to stand beside him, “I came by to see you. It’s been weeks since we talked last. I thought we could use the time together. You know. And not be strangers.” She reached over with the attempt to touch his hand. “I try so hard to keep track of when you’re working inside the heart clinic verses working the graveyard shifts in the emergency room. Just think one day you’ll be able to leave this place and open one of those fancy private offices.” Her gaze floated away seeing stars and grandeur without his consent. Her hand still trying for his arm to stroll her into her ideas of the perfect picket fence life.

Shay quickly pulled away, clicking his pen, and stashed it into his lapel pocket then buried his hands in side pockets of his white coat.

“Sarah, I’m working. When I’m not working, I’m studying. When I’m not doing either of those, I’m trying to squeeze in some sleep. That’s why we don’t see each other. It’s hard enough fitting in all those damn functions your folks invite me to.” He shifted his attention to the nurse seated on the inside of the station, “Has my tablet finished charging?”

“Yes, Doctor.” The matured brunette passed the electronic tablet up to him. He caught Sarah’s glaring glances toward the nurse and he let out a disproving huff. While Sarah didn’t seem to get the hint, the nurse did and she pursed her lips in what should have been a pity smile, but refrained so not to instigate anything with the blonde still crowding at his side. “Don’t forget, Mr. Bilspence is waiting for you to release him, and you have another patient in room 112 ready.”

“Thanks.” He took his tablet, passed her the clipboard of paperwork he’d just finished and turned to face Sarah. “Sarah, I’m sorry. But, I do have work to do. I’ve told you before you can’t just drop in whenever you feel like it.”

“Oh, I know, dear. I am sorry. But, when daddy said he was coming in for his checkup, I thought I could sneak a peek in with you.”

“Your father?”

“Yes.” Her eyebrows went up in an expression that almost suggested she had trapped him as her hand waved out towards room 112.

Shay crossed the corridor and stepped into the room, “Mr. Londonaire?”

The older gentlemen turned from where he sat on the gurney bed, “Ah, Shay. Oh, pardon me, it’s
Doctor
Wilks now.” He gave a confident smile. “And please, call me Merle. We’re practically family now.”

Shay felt the lump in his throat strangling him. He wished Trofim was with him right now, putting his panicking at ease. But wouldn’t that just take the cake and send it flying into everyone’s face. He wouldn’t care, ‘cause he’d been safely shielded in the world of calm that Trofim always managed to surround him in.

He glanced at his tablet, using it as his means to hide his face. He punched up the room number. Other than Mr. Londonaire’s name, no info had been entered yet. “Are you experiencing any immediate pain or discomfort in the chest or extremities?” Shay started the usual barrage of questions as he stepped in and purposely closed the door in Sarah’s face.

“Oh no, no. Bill—” Merle cleared his throat, “Dr. Coldwell, said I was due an overhaul checkup for my ticker. And I thought, hey, do I know the right man for that?” He made a double clicking noise with his cheek and gave Shay a wink. “I must say, I was rather surprised when I heard you arranged to take a year’s internship. Don’t see too many interns these days. That’s all old school stuff.”

“Yeah, well the benefit was not having to do four years of general medical residency before being able to start my surgeon’s residency.” Shay answered, still going over Merle’s records on the tablet, then making some test recommendations that would be either approved or changed later when Dr. Laszkovi came in to follow up on Shay’s rounds.

“You still planning to go the extra mile into cardiothoracic?”

Shay nodded, “That’s the plan.”

“You’re looking at what? Four, five years of residency after you complete your internship?”

Shay glanced up at him, for once finding himself at ease with the man. He’d forgotten how well versed Mr. Londonaire was in medical science, though he’d never asked how or why. Shay’s father had never shown any true interest or moral support for Shay’s goals in the medical field. That man questioned the very validity of every hour Shay had had to spend in classes, lectures and on-call here at the hospital. “Six actually. At least.”

Mr. Londonaire chuckled, “I foresee a future filled with a lot of young
lady
fussing and foot stomping from my daughter. Being a surgeon’s wife is not an easy position to live with.”

Shay struggled to get a complete breath and forced himself to nod, but ignored the comment about Sarah all together. “Very well. I have to finish up with another patient. Just sit tight and Dr. Laszkovi and I will be in with you shortly.”

“See there, already sounding like a doctor.” The man nodded acknowledging the typical doctor/patient brush off, “Sure thing, son.”

Shay twisted out of the room almost walking right into Sarah. He took a rushed step back to avoid the contact of her body and froze, making a correction of his sudden discomfort. “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize you were right outside the door.”

“I don’t mind.” Her voice kept soft, almost inviting as she stepped towards him. Her hand went to move up his chest, but he quickly caught her wrist with a grip a little firmer than he should have. “I’m at work, Sarah.” He brushed her hand from him and sidled past her but he felt her as she fell into step just as she did when he was forced to accompany her to their parents’ functions, chatting about, regardless if he was actually listening. He idled up to the nurses’ station, “Why isn’t Mr. Londonaire’s file on my tablet?”

“Sorry, doctor. We’re transferring his information now.”

Shay nodded and headed on, some prickling feeling at the back of his neck fluxing in sync with the feminine voice that continued to shadow his every step despite every mental attempt to shut it out. Will it away. His hands felt clammy. He stepped into room 129 and instantly stopped when the alarm in his head tapped him about the shadow. He turned glancing at Sarah, who, caught up in her own conversation was following him into another patient’s room.

“Sarah!”

She blinked up at him, her eyes shifting to the man behind him in the room, and she flushed with a touch of pink, high on her cheeks.

“I’m working.” He said it coldly. He barely gave her time to step back when he started pushing the door closed.

He turned forcing his lungs to fill with a deep breath, struggling to move on with his day.

“Geez, Dr. Wilks. You look like you should be the one sitting here.” His patient gave a concerned look.

Shay forced on a trembling smile.

“Pretty lady ya had following you.” The elderly man winked.

“Yes, I’m sure she’ll make some lucky man miserably-happy one day.”
God save that man’s soul and spare his,
Shay added silently.

Shay touched the file icon on his tablet and Mr. Bilspence’s test results came up for his final review. He punched the yellow note flag and read over Pavle’s notes and confirmed his supervising doctor had signed off Shay’s entries before proceeding.

There were three doctors that presided over the ER and the clinic, Dr. Pavle Laszkovi, Dr. Richard Priscus, and Dr. Latoya Brown. And all three of them a part of his supervising umbrella. Though Pavle had the final word and who would likely continue as Shay’s overseer as he began his specialty credits.

Priscus was a difficult man to work with. A man who rarely had a pleasant moment and often took it out on the nurses.

Brown was a well-seasoned doctor and most patients took to her as the grandmother they never had. She always had candy in her pocket and freely gave them out even to the not-so-young, big kids.

Pavle was more of a personal matter. An excellent doctor and surgeon in his right. But, for Shay, he’d been the connection to his lover hiding away in London during the years following Trofim’s disappearance. Even though Pavle never uttered a single word of how Trofim was doing, working with Pavle gave Shay a sense of closeness. If anything bad had actually happened, he was certain Pavle would have told him. But, ever since Shay discovered Trofim had returned home, Shay could feel the big brother’s eyes watching him with a guarded warning,
don’t you dare break my baby brother’s heart.

Breaking it was the farthest from Shay’s mind. He wanted to hold it, be wrapped up in it like a blanket, and never know what it was like to be without it ever again.

“Doc?”

Shay broke from his thoughts and noticed his hands were shaking. He was at the breaking point of having and losing everything he ever wanted, and he wasn’t sure he would survive the battle. He took a deep breath and made a sniffing noise, his finger wiping under his chin, “Yes, sorry, Mr. Bilspence, I was just reading over your lab reports.” He stepped up, laid the tablet down, then drew up his stethoscope to listen to the man’s heart. “Still jogging?”

“Every morning. Of course, I don’t know if it still qualifies as jogging anymore. More like hurried shuffling.” He chuckled.

“Hmmm. Take a deep breath and hold it as long as you can for me.” He listened and there it was, a slight flipping sound at the end of the second valve as it pulsed blood out the back end. “Whad’ya say dropping it down a notch?”

“You saying no more exercise, doc?”

“No. I’m saying let’s slow it down to a walk for a bit. Dr. Laszkovi wants to change your heart meds and then have you come back in a month to have another look at you.”

“Any concerns?”

“We’re still hearing a slight murmur in there. It could be an over correction caused by your meds or a combination there of that becomes more noticeable during your exercise routine. So we’ll moderate those and take another look before we get too worked up over it.” Shay explained as he moved squarely in front of him, “Hold out your hands.” Shay went into an autopilot routine of putting his patient into anticlimactic physical poses and movements that often seemed redundant and inconsequential to the patient, but actually told the doctor a source of information like the warmth in the man’s fingers as Shay held them. Most severe heart problems caused poor circulation which resulted in cold hands, weakness in grip, and even trembling. So such seemingly frivolous things were monitored regularly, not to pose about to pretend he was earning his paycheck as some patients were apt to claim.