Page 38 of Vengeance (Ruthless MC 4)
She’s been skipping over more experienced doctors to put me in charge of the clinic more and more during her days off. And if I can convince her to officially let me take the helm while she’s out on maternity leave, maybe I can get this place into shipshape by the time she gets back.
And if I do that, maybe she’ll be open to letting me set up my own community clinic in…
Actually, I’m not sure where.
Not Nashville, I know. It’s too close to the roadhouse, and I never loved working at Nashville Baptist. It was always rush, rush, rush. And there was never enough time to put together cohesive plans for the future. Louisville is smaller than Nashville, but it has the same problem with way too many underserved patients.
Forget a spare moment for Olivia’s checklist. Sometimes it feels like I’m struggling to keep my head above water here.
We accept walk-ins, and often those mothers are in mid-labor without any history of prenatal care when they arrive. Also, Olivia’s rule is that everyone has to pitch in from every department. So when the clinic’s overwhelmed with patients—which is, like, all the time since we’re pretty much an urgent care for women with disabilities—I have to go do everything from diagnosing sicknesses to setting broken bones.
I actually like getting to be somewhat of a general practitioner most days. But again, the lack of time for planning…I know I can’t stay in Kentucky forever. I’m just not sure where to go next.
It doesn’t matter, though. I just entered year three of my current five-year plan. I’ve still got plenty of time to decide the next steps before I have to find a perfect elementary where B2 will be sure to thrive.
That’s the main component of this and all of my future five-year plans: give B2 the nice, stable childhood I didn’t have growing up.
And that’s why my job at the Woman’s Disability Clinic is perfect for now.
I go in the opposite direction of Louisville to drop B2 off at the backhouse’s all-ages daycare.
Bernice isn’t working at the clinic today, but her daughter O2 is already there due to her mom overseeing the entire wedding from top to bottom.
“Little Brother!” O2 calls out happily as soon as we walk in the door. She immediately breaks off from playing magnetic tiles with two other girls to run over to us.
“Sis-Sis!” B2 calls back. He squirrels out of my arms and goes toddling over to her for a huge hug.
Of course, they’re not really related by blood. Also, we all had dinner together last night since I babysat O2 while her mother dealt with the rehearsal dinner. But our kids act like it’s been years since they saw each other last—oh, I should put that on the list!
I pull out my phone to make another entry in my Next Five-Year Plan Evernote under the Things to Consider subsection.
B2 will miss O2 if we don’t stay close.
It’s a simple note. I assume it’s one of the things I’ll talk about with Bernice later on when the clinic closes for the night and I join her for the reception of the wedding she planned.
But that never happens.
Griffin Latham. Griffin Latham, of all people—the father of Bernice’s child, the bad Reaper decision she never talks about—shows up at the reception for a surprise mini- concert. The only part of the wedding she didn’t plan.
And then he proceeds to blow up her entire life.
Just like that, her career…the safe haven she built for herself and O2 here in Kentucky…our friendship…that’s all done.
BERNICE: I have to stay here in Vegas. You were right. The Reapers really are ruthless. They live up to their name. Please don’t worry though. I told O2 not to bring up B2 to her father. I think you’re safe. But for obvious reasons we won’t be seeing each other again anytime soon. We’re going to miss you so much.
My chest shatters when I receive her text seventy-two hours after making that entry in my Next Five-Year Plan Evernote.
I don’t know why, though.
I should be over getting upset about the stuff life throws at me. And I never should have made that note in the first place. B2 is the only non-temporary person in my life.
And yes, it had been nice to have a best friend for a couple of years—a real best friend who understood exactly what kind of single mama drama I was going through and never judged or questioned me about it.
But Griffin’s only one Reaper and look how much destruction he caused.
Imagine what would happen if three of them found me and the secret baby I’ve been hiding for almost two years. She’s right. We can’t see each other again.
Still, if I’d known that today would be our last one together…I would have taken a picture of B2 and O2 this morning.
