Vodka On The Rocks (The Uncertain Saints Book 3) by Lani Lynn Vale Read Free Book Online Page A

done.
    “You’re not trying on her anymore, get another nurse,” I informed her.
    The nurse blinked, wide eyed, and it was then I saw the ‘student nurse’ on her nametag.
    “Do you even know what you’re doing yet? Go away so someone who knows what to do can do it and get her some relief,” I snapped at her.
    The girl ran out of the room crying, and I couldn’t find it in me to care.
    “Be nice,” Tasha whispered.
    I glared at her hand still holding mine.
    “She was fucking up,” I told her gruffly.
    “She was learning,” she whispered back.
    I didn’t reply.
    She may be learning, but she didn’t need to learn on my Tasha.
    I froze, thinking back over the words that’d just flittered through my brain.
    She wasn’t my anything.
    And I needed to get the fuck out of here.
    “I gotta go,” I said. “I need to call your sister.”
    “My sister’s busy,” she groaned. “I’ve called four times now.”
    Her sister and Mig had disappeared about half an hour after Tasha had left, and I sighed.
    She may be right.
    “What about your parents?” I conceded.
    “Mom’s watching Annie’s kid,” she replied, moaning. “Dad’s out of town fishing.”
    Fuck.
    Just fucking wonderful.
    “Dammit,” I growled.
    A nurse finally got the IV, but as I watched, blood started to leak out of it and onto the floor.
    I watched as Tasha’s blood fell to the white tiled floor.
    Drip.
    Drip.
    Drip.
    One crimson drop at a time.
    “Ma’am,” the doctor, a red headed man who looked like the white version of Steve Urkel with his too-short pants and huge glasses, interrupted. “I’m Dr. Mean. I’m going to roll you over and press on your stomach, okay?”
    Tasha didn’t protest as she rolled over, but the moment that the doctor pressed on her lower abdomen, and then released it, she screamed.
    The scream ripped through my chest like I’d been shot, and I bent down to press my forehead to hers.
    “You’re okay,” I promised.
    I wasn’t sure if she was okay.
    “Appendicitis,” the doctor muttered. “Perfect symptoms.”
    I wondered if that was bad, and then realized about thirty minutes later that it was, indeed, bad.
    “You’re her husband?” the doctor asked.
    I shook my head. “Fiancé,” I lied.
    Hell, I didn’t know why I lied.
    But I wanted them to give me information, and I didn’t want to be left in the dark.
    “She’ll need an emergency appendectomy,” Dr. Mean explained as they rolled a sedated Tasha out of the room. “I’ll be handing her care over to Dr. Stephanopoulos, the surgeon on call.”
    I nodded, watching her until I couldn’t see her anymore. “Thank you.”
    The nurse that’d gotten the IV started earlier smiled at me.
    “I’ll take you to the waiting room,” she instructed me to follow.
    I did and sat down in a waiting room that was half full of people, as I thought about how I’d ended up here tonight.
    Had I not come, would she still be in pain on the bathroom floor?
    Would she have died?
    I closed my mind down on that thought and stared at the red phone on the corner of a desk that an older volunteer was manning.
    Patiently, I waited.
    Nobody sat next to me, and I was thankful.
    By the time the red phone rang hours later, and the man behind the desk called out ‘Tasha Gonzales’ I was about ready to flip the fuck out.
    It’d been over four hours.
    “Yeah,” I jumped up and headed to the desk.
    He handed me the red phone, and I placed it to my ear.
    “Yeah?” I repeated roughly.
    “Hello,” a cheery voice chattered into the phone. “Ms. Gonzales made it through surgery with flying colors and is now resting in room twenty-two-oh-three.”
    “Thanks,” I muttered, slamming the phone down. “You know how I can get to twenty-two-oh-three?” I asked the old man.
    He nodded. “Follow that hallway until it dead ends, then take a right. You’ll see the entrance to the second floor patient room wing that way and follow the room number signs.”
    “Thanks,” I