Anthony and Tom rolled Darin over and examined him to make sure there were no serious injuries. He had a bloody nose and he looked too weak to get up, but that was the worst of it.
Atlas finally let me go when he realized I was truly okay. “Discharge him from the clinic. He’s not our patient anymore.”
“Uh, we aren’t doing that.” I rounded on him, the chart at my side.
Anthony and Tom got Darin to his feet and walked him back into the patient room.
Atlas gave me a fiery look I’d never seen before. “He attacked you.”
“And I beat his ass. No harm done.”
That old look came on to his face, the one he used to give when we were enemies, like I was the biggest pain in his ass. “We don’t treat patients who don’t respect us, who would cause us bodily harm. He’s discharged. That’s final—”
“If we don’t help him, no one else will. We’re his only chance—”
“I don’t give a shit.” He threw down his arms. “He could have hurt you—”
“Did you see what happened? He had no chance.”
“This isn’t a goddamn joke.” He raised his voice, everyone and our assistants staring at the showdown. “I’m the director of this clinic—and I say he’s gone.”
“Well, he’s my patient. And I say he’s not gone.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You owe him nothing—”
“I owe him a better quality of life. He’s frustrated and depressed. He’s been sick for a very long time, and that would demoralize anyone. It would make anyone crazy—”
“You’re being crazy. And not the crazy that I like.”
My eyes narrowed. “I’m going to see this through. You can’t stop me.” I stepped away from him and entered the patient room to continue our exam.
Darin was on the bed, still breathing hard, a tampon up his nose to stop the bleeding.
I sat on the stool and looked over his paperwork again. “Alright, are we ready to try this again?”
Everyone stayed in the hallway while the door remained open, exchanging words about what happened.
All Darin did was give a nod.
Atlas stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He gave me a furious look before he took a seat in the armchair, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I can handle myself.”
He stared me down. “If you want him to remain our patient, I’m in the room at all times. Take it or leave it.”
Darin sat up in bed and played with his tampon, which was red with blood.
I released an irritated sigh before I got back to work. “Fine.”
At the end of the day, Atlas came into my office.
Everyone had gathered their things and left the office. They all glanced our way, seeing Atlas and me alone together through the glass. When Shelly passed, she waggled her eyebrows at me.
I wasn’t in the mood, so I ignored her.
Atlas moved to my desk, as furious with me as I was with him. His powerful arms rested by his sides, and he looked at me with those dark eyes, eyes that were intense for a whole new reason.
“Quite the day. Everyone knows we’re fucking…you think I can’t handle myself…and I’m still totally clueless as to what’s wrong with Darin.”
“We aren’t fucking.”
“Whatever.”
“Not whatever. Our colleagues needed to know at some point.”
“It’s none of their business.”
“It is their business because we both know where this is going.” He came closer, his hard stare piercing mine.
I knew exactly what he implied, but I ignored it. “You want to help me with this or not?” I held up the stack of papers that were practically hieroglyphics at this point. Everything was negative, but this man had something serious.
“Not really.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” I looked back at my work, ignoring him standing there.
“His life isn’t more important than yours.”
“I was never in serious danger.”
“If you didn’t know how to fight, what would have happened?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I lifted my gaze and met his. “Because I know how to beat a man twice my size. He can fuck with me all he wants, and I’ll wipe the floor with his blood. And even if I didn’t, I could have screamed for help and someone would have come—”
“Before he shattered your skull on the floor? Before he choked you out? Before he broke your arm and put you back six months with doctor visits and physical therapy? I admire your dedication to your patients, but violence is unacceptable. I don’t care how much pain he’s in. I don’t care how long he’s been in pain. There is no justification for what he did. None.”
“Well, I guess I have more empathy than you do.”
His eyes flashed in rage. “He tried to hurt the woman I love. You’re right—I don’t have an ounce of empathy.”
I shook my head and dropped my eyes to my folder.