The Mafia's Nurse

Improvising

Chapter 5

With a sharp tug I strip my jacket off- well Nikki's jacket- and toss it onto the couch before running my fingers through my dark hair to shape is as I tie it back.

"-and that's when I needed someone with more medical experience," Ace finishes running a hand through his hair disheveling it even more.

"Yeah I'm surprised your crack doctor didn't bring more to the table," I mumble before rushing over to the cabinet behind the desk.

"I don't need the fucking sas- What the hell are you doing back there?" he snaps and I hear his heavy footsteps follow me across the room.

"I'm improvising," I answer shortly not wanting to explain myself. The beauty of being so completely focused on a task is that nothing else seems to matter. You aren't worried about embarrassment or how you look because the only thing that matters is the outcome.

I reach the cabinet but before I can bend a large hand clasps itself around my bicep and with a sharp tug I am pulled away from the desk.

I turn so quickly my head spins as I glare up at him, "Let go," I hiss out.

"What are you doing we need to go," he says through gritted teeth and I see the furry pulsing off of him in waves so strong I can almost feel its heat.

"I know but I am gathering supplies," I say with one more hard shake and successfully tug my arm from him his grasp.

"Supplies?" He repeats and this time I watch as the anger fades from his usually stock expression and transforms into confusion.

"I don't have time to explain myself right now," I mumble but again before I can turn around to the cabinet he has his hand on me this time its my forearm and I can feel the heat of his hand on my skin. I falter for a moment as repress a shudder that wants to rack through me.

"Make time."

Composing myself quickly I let out a breath and look into those stormy blues watching the chaos in them sway like waves.

"Fine. I don't know what kind of supplies you might or might not have. The most important step to using unknown tools in an unsanitary facility is sterilization. Without that the wound will get infected and all the work to save him will be pointless," I ramble off as quick as I can.

I point behind me to the liquor cabinet, "What I am doing is my job, so if you get in my way again his blood will be on your hands."

It is often said to me that I am not the same person in the ER as I am outside. I've been called bossy, stubborn, and blunt, but when it comes to this I know what I'm doing and I do it well. So therefore I often do no have the time to consider people's feelings like I would in Hospice.

Ace stares at me with tight lips and a fierce glare before taking me by surprise and releasing my arm.

He then looks at the cabinet, "that is 30 year old scotch," he tells me and I just furrow my eyebrows.

"And?" His lips twitch and I can't tell if it was from a smile or from anger.

"and that means that the cabinet is locked," he answers and I hiss out a breath before moving around to the desk and he follows as well.

"Well I'm sure there is a key somewhere," I mumble before shuffling papers around the desk and pulling at drawers already knowing that there wasn't a key in any of the places I've peeked at while in the room.

I don't here him moving but I can feel his eyes on me, "Are you going to help?" I ask still turned away from him.

Instead of answering I hear an ear-piercing sound of glass shattering and I jump with a scared yelp. Turning quickly I see Ace on one knee and fist sized hole through the glass. Holy shit he just punched the glass.

"Oh my god what are you doing?!" I ask frantic looking at the glass around his hand that looks to be wrapped by his suit jacket. I hope he didn't break a knuckle.

"Improvising," He answers back and glances up at me through a few dark strands of wild hair, but what leaves me breathless is the small grin he gives as he throws my words back at me.

I lunge forward and reach for his hand but my fingertips barely touch his warm skin before he pulls away, "I'm fine just grab what you need."

I hesitate before reaching for the liquor and slipping it out of the hole trying not to think about why I found that barbaric act so attractive.

Not a moment later he throws the door open and leads us down a maze that bends and turns. As we race across a mansion I've never seen before I notice the blood once again covering Ace.

"You need to shower," I tell him and he looks back at me shocked with eyebrows pulled together but doesn't stop moving.

"Excuse me?" He asks in a husk voice almost sounding offended.

"The blood," I clarify, "If you have any open wounds then his blood can get into your system and any diseases he may have or be caring that spreads through bodily fluids could infect you."

He just shakes his head, "he doesn't have any diseases," Ace insists as we approach an elevator and he slams his thumb onto the button.

"Are you sure?" I ask as the elevator doors open and its then I realize this isn't a mansion but a high rise and we are at the top floor.

Ace presses -1 and the doors close with impressive speed.

We both face front but in the corner of my eyes I can see him shrug his shoulders, "I guess yeah."

That's not the answer to give a medical professional who took an entire course on who to prevent a patients illness/infection to transfer to you.

"How well do you know him?" I ask and the tone of my voice is obviously hard causing him to turn and narrow his eyes at me, but I hold my ground by matching his glare.

"Pretty well," is his short reply.

"Than can I ask some questions to help with treating him? Since you know him so well you should be able to answer them, right?" I know I am antagonizing him, but the way he just brushes off the seriousness of transferable disease makes my skin crawl.

"Be my guest," He hisses out taking a step towards me and I don't miss the double meaning to his words.

"Does he have any existing health conditions?" I ask following his lead and taking a step forward as well.

"I don't know," he admits but it doesn't seem his confidence has faltered. I hum in response before continuing.

"What's his blood type? That could be vital to his survival," I say taking another step forward and watching as his jaw ticks.

"I don't know," this time he seems anger.

Well good because I'm angry too and he won't see me backing down.

I come at him with my most vicious question next, "Do you even know his real name in case he dies and you have to tell his family?" I didn't realize my voice was raised or that we were practically chest to chest until his suddenly jerks his hand.

His fist collides with the metal wall to the left of us next to our heads and he leans in lip curled up in furry.

"His name is Vincent O'Brien. He's got a thing for fast cars and breaking kneecaps. He has been trying to quit smoking for 3 years now and can't eat a damn thing unless its covered in ketchup like a fucking kid," He sneers at me and I hold my breath as he gets even closer, "and today will not be Vincent O'Brien's last day. You will make sure of that."

Ace is practically panting by the time he's done talking and I hold his gaze steady, but still having the taste of fear in the back of my mouth.

I nod as the elevator doors open and he takes off without another word.