Page 7 of Tough Justice

True. Fortunately, charming her was the last thing on his mind. There’d be no wooing, no dinners, and no romance. Keeping things strictly professional was the plan, one he suspected she’d appreciate.

“I was there,” Evan said. “Standing right on the other side of the door. What she actually said was, ‘If you ever come into my ER again, I’ll throw you out on your muscled ass.’”

“Well,” Dan said. “She’s got my vote.”

“Pizza!” Little Tommy ran to the bed and grabbed a slice from the open box.

Dan’s wife came into the room, carrying a tray of sandwiches. “How did you guys get a box of pizza past that crabby old nurse?”

“Charm.” Brett winked. “Unlike Deck, I have some.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Bachelors.” Then she snuggled on the bed next to her husband and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

When Deck dropped a piece of crust into a nearby garbage can, Thor all but glared at him then twisted his neck in the direction of the garbage, his nostrils flaring hopefully. Tommy grabbed his father’s free hand, holding onto it while he gobbled down a slice. The gesture was so natural and loving, an observation that left him…wondering.

His life was 24/7 all about the job and had been that way for fourteen years. Getting hooked up wasn’t in the cards anytime soon, if ever. He’d seen firsthand how fragile families were, breaking apart and dying an ugly, painful death for all kinds of reasons. He’d read that the divorce rate for first marriages in this country was at a whopping 43 percent, and Deck had no intention of adding to that statistic. Guess Dan and his wife were in that lucky 57 percent still hanging in there.

No sooner did he finish the thought than he stowed it away, deep in a hole reserved for other distractions. Not only wouldn’t he risk becoming a divorce statistic, but there were way too many dealers to take out, something he couldn’t do if he was always worrying about a wife and kids.

“Gotta go,” he said to Dan. “I’ll stop in tomorrow.”

“Heading back to the ER?” Dan asked.

“Yep.” When he grabbed Thor’s leash, his dog shot to his feet.

“Good luck.” Evan reached for another slice. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled. A round of snickers followed him and Thor out the door.

As they headed for the elevators, the decision he’d made sat no better than a burning lump of coal in his stomach. For what he was about to attempt, he’d need more than just luck.

He and Thor stepped into the empty elevator, and he pressed the down button. Christ, what had he been thinking when he’d come up with this half-assed idea?

Tori Sampson struck him as a strong-willed, by-the-book doctor who wouldn’t break easily from protocol. Swaying her to what she would undoubtedly consider “the dark side” would be a challenge. Sure, he loved a good challenge and hadn’t met one yet that he couldn’t overcome, but there was more to it than just her reservations. There were his to consider.

Going through with this would test every ounce of his restraint. Doctors had failed him and his family before, and his sister had paid the price with her life. His trust in the medical community ranked deep into the negative numbers. Even if she agreed, working with Dr. Sampson would be about as comfortable as rubbing up against a cactus. Guess he’d have to suck it up and take one for the team.

Chapter Three

Tori placed her hand on the door, readying to push it open, but stopped. This would be the hardest thing she’d ever done in her medical career.

“You did everything you could for him,” Suzie said. “He was found too late, you know that.”

She did know that. By the time Tyler Wojcik’s parents found him unconscious in his bedroom, hypoxia had already set in. In all likelihood, the boy was probably brain dead before he’d even arrived at the hospital. That didn’t make her feel any better.

Wil’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”

She shook her head and took an unsteady breath that seemed to rattle her rib cage. “No, you’ve got patients to see, and this won’t take long.” It couldn’t. Not with the organ donation Tyler’s parents had agreed to.

“Okay, then.” Wil’s voice was gentle, understanding. As a senior doctor, he’d been through this many more times than Tori had, and she appreciated his unwavering support. “I’ll find you afterward. We can go to the lounge, grab a coffee, talk if you need to… Anything.”

“Thanks, Wil.” She looked up into his brown gaze, grateful for the compassionate understanding she glimpsed there.

“Ready?” Suzie asked.

No. Not really. For what she was about to do, she’d never be ready. She pressed her fingers to her eyes, willing herself not to lose it. Tyler’s parents needed her to be strong for them. They were the ones entitled to cry, not her. Not now, anyway.

Tori pushed open the door to the private room. Tom Wojcik stood up from where he’d been seated beside his wife, Emma. Sitting next to Emma was the organ donor coordinator, a kind woman named Mrs. Joba who held one of Emma’s hands.