Doc (Ruthless Kings MC #7) - K.L. Savage Page 0,86
a friend of mine when I worked here. I get up and hold out my hand, still gripping my mom’s with the other. “Ryan, it’s good to see you.”
“You too. I hate the circumstances, Eric. I’m sorry to see your mom here,” he says as his eyes roam everyone until they land on my mom. Ryan is the best oncologist I’ve ever come across, but the look on his face matches the numbers on the chart.
And it isn’t good.
“Yeah, me too.” I run my fingers through my hair, and Jo hobbles next to me on her crutches for support. She must notice the bad news written all over Ryan’s face. “Ryan, come on, man. Please have good news for me. She’s my mom,” I whisper, pained.
“I think it’s best if we talk alone,” he suggests.
I shake my head and wrap my arm around Jo’s shoulders and tug her close. “No, you can say it in front of everyone. They’re my family. They’re her family too.”
Ryan sighs, the day as a doctor weighing on him just like every other day. His shoulders deflate, his face sags with exhaustion, and he rubs the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. “Your mom’s numbers suggest the cancer has gotten worse. It’s metastasized.”
“To where? Is it operable? What can we do? Chemo? What? Tell me and … and we will do it, Ryan. You know I will.”
Ryan’s lips press together, not liking that decision, but I don’t care. He opens the folder in his hand and flips a paper over. “It’s everywhere, Eric. It’s in her lungs, her liver … it’s cut her time that the previous doctor told her she has.”
I stretch my arms behind my head and lace my fingers together, shaking my head in denial. A few of my brothers curse behind me, and Jo leans into my side, touching me, grounding me, and honestly if she weren’t here, I would yell and curse. I might even punch Ryan in the face.
My eyes water, and I stare up at the light, thinking about all the times we had together. How she busted her ass to get me through college and med-school. She gave me a home, she loved me when I didn’t think anyone did. I’m here because of her. My father would’ve killed me eventually. “No, no, I refuse to believe that. I refuse. She’s strong. She isn’t like other people, Ryan. Come on, she’s better; you know it.”
“Strong or not, Eric, the cancer is stronger, and I’m sorry, but the three months are gone. She has a month, maybe.”
“No.” I’m ignorant. I’m resisting. I can’t. I can’t handle this. I can’t do it. My hand lays against my heart. “No, no! Please, there has to be something. Ryan, I’m begging you. I’m begging you, do something.” Tears swim in my eyes, and like a broken man, they fall.
They fall right in front of my brothers, my woman, my friend. I don’t care. “No, not after everything. It can’t end like this. It can’t. We’ve been through too much.” I press my palms against my eyes, trying to dry them out, but the memories shared with my mom slam against the front of my mind, and like a movie, like watching my life play before my eyes, they won’t stop flashing.
A beautiful life, and now I have to prepare myself for a painful goodbye.
I can’t.
“Get out of my way.” Like a child, I shove Ryan out of my way and run out the door. I slam against the wall, almost making a nurse fall when she trips over my foot. She rights herself, and she doesn’t seem mad. “Move!” I scream at everyone in the hallway, and doctors, patients, and nurses pause what they’re doing, and I create a path as everyone gets out of my way. I pass the nurses station and suddenly feel drunk, like I can’t feel my legs, arms, or heart. It hurts. I feel like I’m having a heart attack, but I know I’m not.
My heart veins are tight, threatening to pop, just like a piano getting tuned, too much stress and pop.
No more music, no more life.
A sign above me that says ‘Chapel’ has me turning left and busting through the doors. It’s empty.
Figures.
God doesn’t live in hospitals, only the Devil does.
What god would decide to take a soul, a good soul, the kind who makes the world a better place? No great god, I can say that much.