Below the Belt(70)

“Much like I don’t have a Hippocratic oath to worry about, I also don’t have patient-client confidentiality. My job is to keep everyone healthy. That includes knowing when they’ve gone too far, and pulling the plug when they do!” Her temper was boiling now. How dare he try to tell her how to do her job?

“What about his dreams?” Brad shot back. “Do they mean nothing?”

“I’m pretty sure Tibbs is a rational guy, and would rather choose a life without permanent brain damage.” And if he wasn’t, then she’d work it so he didn’t have the choice. “This is my job. If you don’t like it, tough tits.”

At that, Brad’s mouth quirked, but he firmed it again quickly. “I don’t like it.”

“Then I’m glad you’re not the one who gets to pick my career. I would never forgive myself if I let him get back in the ring Monday morning, whether everything turned out okay or not. It’s my job to tell the coaches the truth about their athletes. End of story. I care about all of you guys.” She poked his chest, and he grabbed her finger. “Even you, when you’re acting like a jerk.”

“You care about me, huh?” When she scoffed, his lips lifted in a ghost of a smile. “Even when I’m acting like a jerk.”

“Apparently,” she muttered. He pulled her close. She squirmed, but didn’t break his hold.

“But do you like me more than just one of the Marines you watch over?”

“Well, I didn’t let anyone else in my pants yet,” she said sweetly, and grinned when he growled. “You know I do. God knows why, but I do.” I love you. You just don’t know it.

“So we’re just at an impasse on this.”

“You like him.” She shook her head when he would have spoken. “You’ll deny it, but I know you like all the guys in your group. Even Tressler.”

He groaned.

“But as much as you identify with their dream to be on the team, I also know you’d be devastated if something did happen to them. So while you’re all hot under the collar about it now, I’m guessing when you’ve had a day to cool off, you’ll see I’m right.”


*

BRAD let Marianne go home and waited on a bench outside the entrance to the ER. He could have gone back with her, left Tressler to handle it. But he was the group leader, and he’d be damned if he gave up his responsibilities to someone else. He just wasn’t ready to go in there yet. Not when he knew he was going to be facing a man whose dream had just ended.

Not when he knew it would be like looking at his own future.

He let his head fall back to the rough brick, closed his eyes, and fought for a little rest. It was fitful, at best, with cars pulling in to pick up patients, people walking by for visits or the occasional drop-off with a mild emergency. But he managed to squeeze some sleep out of it. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he felt something settle beside him. He cracked one eye open and found Tressler, hands covering his face, elbows on his knees, beside him.

“Tibbs?”

“Making the nurses all want to run away with him.” His voice was muffled by his hands. Tressler sighed, his back moving with the heavy sound. “He’s awake, and alert, and knows the president’s name. He’s shaky on details from the fall, but they said that’s not uncommon. Past that . . .” He lifted one shoulder without changing positions.

Brad took a chance and patted Tressler’s back a few times, then let his arm fall to his side. “Did he call you first? I never asked why you were there before me.”

“I already was. That was my friend whose bike he got on. We were hanging out and he got the brilliant idea. I should have stopped him.”

The last came out on a torn, harsh breath. Brad knew if he didn’t get it under control, he’d be a mess in a minute.

“Cut that shit out, right now,” he said, using his best platoon commander voice. Tressler’s back stiffened and his shoulders lifted a little from their hunched-over position. “Tibbs shouldn’t have gotten on the bike. You shouldn’t have egged him on. Oh, like I didn’t put two and two together,” he added when the younger man looked at him warily from the corner of his eye. “The choice was his, and he made a shitty one. Now he will end up living with that choice.”

“He’s going to be okay.” Voice firmer, Tressler sat back and stared off into the dark. “He’s going to be fine. He’s not going to look any prettier . . .”

Brad snorted at that.

“But he’ll be okay. So, he wears a face guard for a few weeks at practice and—”

“He’s not going to be at practice.”

The other man watched him for a moment, then his mouth dropped open. “You’re not kidding. You’re going to pull him? That’s such bullshit and you know it.”

“It’s not my call, it’s Marianne’s. Cook’s,” he corrected when the other man’s eyebrow winged up. “And I’m not going to ask her to make a different choice. That’s her job on the line.”

Letting loose a heavy breath, Tressler slumped a little again. “Damn.”

“I know.” He waited a moment. “Starting to get it now?”

Without missing a beat, Tressler picked up where the conversation had flowed. “Be a team player, don’t be a show-off, yadda yadda.”