Doc (Ruthless Kings MC #7) - K.L. Savage Page 0,28

having no idea that I’m right here.

Idiots.

Okay, I know they are brilliant, they are doctors, but way to be aware of your surroundings! I watch the older one with white hair slap the chart against the younger doctor’s chest.

Oh, shit. He’s about to turn around and say something to the guy face to face. Then he’ll see me. I dive around the other side of the medical cart, grunting when I hit my arm on the side of the metal corner.

Breathe through it. Breathe.

I peek around the side of the cart to see the doctors arguing. The older man pokes the younger one in the chest before leaving to go give a patient a massive, unnecessary scar. I’m with the younger doctor, not that my opinion matters, but eavesdropping and all. I can’t help it.

When the coast is clear, I stand and round the corner, only to see the front desk in vision. There are a few nurses hovering around the desk, two are on the phone, and they seem a bit preoccupied. I slow my footsteps to seem less obvious and hold my arms to my chest. A lot of patients do laps when they are recovering from an operation. I don’t know what kind, but I can figure it out.

I can lie.

I’ve perfected the art of lying, and while it isn’t the best talent to have, it’s vital for survival.

Hanging my head, my hair falls around my face, and I slide each foot, so it looks like I’m struggling. I am, so it isn’t a hardship.

“Oh my goodness! Do you need help?” a nurse asks with a sincere tone.

She’s wearing scrubs that have kittens all over them.

I can’t stand cats. They make me sneeze.

“I’m fine. I’m just doing my laps like the doctor ordered. I’m doing good. I have one more to go,” I boast about myself.

“Well, I won’t slow you down! You go get ’em girl. I’ll be here when you come back around,” the nurse cheers me, giving me extra motivation. Her applause starts a chain reaction, and now all of the nurses are rooting for me.

I feel bad. I hope she doesn’t get in trouble when I make a run for it.

“Thank you. I’ll see you soon,” I say, focusing on my next step. When I come around the bend and I’m away from watchful eyes, I take another break. My lips pinch together, and my arms once again are on fire, warning me not to push myself.

I have to.

I can’t leave out of the main doors.

“Oh no.” My stomach lurches, and I haul ass to another medical cart and grab a bed pan. I hurl nothing but stomach bile. It burns the back of my throat and makes my eyes water.

“Oops,” I mumble, wiping my mouth on the hospital gown. I have no idea what to do with the pan, so I set it on the cart again, hoping someone will see it and take care of it. “Nasty,” I grumble as the pan clanks against the cart.

Which way am I going to go?

A red glowing sign captures my attention, and in big block letters it spells EXIT.

Right! The stairwell. Perfect.

“Excuse me?” someone says from behind me.

I stop walking and gulp.

“Excuse me? Why aren’t you in your room?”

I dart toward the door, press my back against it, and see the person who is questioning me is my doctor.

“You need to lay down at once, Ms. Davis!” he shouts, moving as quick as he can to stop me. The door locks shut, but I still hear him calling out for me.

“Code Orange. Code Orange,” is blared over the speakers.

I’m going to assume that’s for me. A runaway patient.

I’ve never felt so thrilled before. I also feel like puking, crying, and screaming in pain, but I have to pick and choose my battles. I press my back against another door, happy that I don’t have to use my arms.

The sun blinds me as I stumble out the door. The pavement is hot, and the heat doesn’t do much for my nausea. I search for a taxi, something that can take me out of here before I get caught. I lift my hand to block the bright light from my eyes and try to figure out my next move. There are a few cars parked in the entryway, empty.

No…

I couldn’t.

The bottom of my feet start to burn, and the sirens blaring ‘Code Orange’ aren’t going away anytime soon. Hissing, I run across the sizzling black pavement. I