Wright with Benefits (Wright Series #8) - K.A. Linde Page 0,41

trembling hands, sucking air in deep, barely hearing the doctor say that we needed to speak with his family.

That was part of my job, of course. An essential part of my job. And I was frozen in place. I couldn’t do it. I’d had to tell Sutton. I couldn’t do it this time. Oh God.

“Dr. Donoghue.”

I didn’t respond.

“Annie,” he said more gently, forcing me to look at him. “Is this the first one you’ve lost?”

I nodded even though it felt like a lie. It was the first I’d lost in the ER.

He nodded and patted my shoulder. “I remember my first, too. I’ll speak with the family. You go home.”

“I have another hour and a half.”

“Not anymore you don’t. Go home. Get some sleep.”

“Sir—”

But he was already turning away. Going to tell someone’s family that they no longer had their husband, father, brother, son.

And I was here, still shaking so bad that I couldn’t get my gloves off. I yelled and yanked them off, throwing them in the trash. The shaking had moved from my hands to the rest of my body. I darted for the physicians’ lounge. A few other doctors were in there, but no one looked up when I walked in. I grabbed my stuff out of my locker, shrugged my jacket on, and headed out without a word.

I had no recollection of driving. No idea how I managed it with the way I was feeling. But somehow, I pulled up in front of Jordan’s house.

My bag was still in the back of my car, and I wrenched it out of the backseat before heading for the front door. I rang the doorbell and tried to twist the knob, but the door was locked.

A minute later, Jordan appeared in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. He rubbed his eyes as he opened the door. I must have woken him.

He startled at the sight of me. “Annie?”

“Can we go for that run?”

He opened the door wider to let me inside. “What are you doing awake? It’s…” He checked his watch. “It’s not even seven in the morning.”

“I worked an overnight.”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping then?”

“Can’t sleep,” I said as I headed for his room, intending to change.

He followed in my wake. “So, you want to run? I thought you didn’t want to run.”

“Changed my mind.”

“Slow down.” He pulled me toward him and looked me in the eyes. “Are you okay?”

I clenched my jaw and slowly shook my head. “Can we run…please?”

“It looks like a storm out there.”

“I don’t care.”

He nodded, seeing that I was telling the truth. “Okay. Okay, let’s run.”

Then he released me tenderly, the look in his eyes one of absolute concern. I hadn’t seen him in over a week, and now I was here, acting like a crazy person. One who couldn’t sleep and was going back on everything I’d said to him. And still, he just stepped aside and found running clothes.

I changed out of my scrubs as quickly as possible, half-considering burning them. The thought of wearing them again made me sick to my stomach. I turned away, so I didn’t have to look at them again. I’d had training for this. Yet nothing could prepare a person to watch someone die especially with what I’d gone through. And every time I closed my eyes, I saw his heart stop and the doctor call it and the world close up.

“Ready?” Jordan asked.

“Sure.”

We took off with Jordan guiding us toward the golf course. Dark clouds loomed in front of us, and the course was empty. No golf carts rushing about the track or tiny balls flying through the air. Just the two of us trekking past the holes and their little flags. Jordan had clearly run this way often, probably got up early enough to miss the morning golfers. That seemed like a respectable thing he’d do.

The farther we ran, the deeper the burn in my legs and lungs and heart. I hadn’t run like this in years. Not unless you counted the occasional soccer game, which I didn’t. Everything hurt, and yet I welcomed it. At least I was feeling that instead of the pain from the hospital.

My breathing was ragged, and soon, I was panting. Jordan shot me a worried look. He wasn’t even breathing hard. In fact, it looked more like he was jogging next to me than running.

Whatever. I wasn’t going to stop. I was just going to keep going.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Arms pumping. Feet pounding the pavement.

Better than

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