The Gender End by Bella Forrest (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📕

his name again, a bit more loudly, but there was no sign of him waking.

I looked around for Dr. Tierney, and spotted her with her back to me. She was treating a patient, but I couldn’t tell who and I didn’t want to interrupt her in case it was critical. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t move a bit closer and try to grab her attention once she finished.

So I did. I moved down the row, heading toward her, and two things became clear to me. The first was that the patient she was treating was sitting, not lying down, and the second was that they were being difficult. When I heard the patient’s voice, I felt myself smiling, even as Mags hopped onto her feet, her round face red.

“I’m fine!” she insisted loudly, crumpling a wad of fabric in her hands and tossing it back onto the bed. “There are a lot more critical patients here that you should be concerning yourself with!”

She went to move past Dr. Tierney, but Dr. Tierney’s hand shot out and grabbed the shorter woman’s shoulder. Mags cried out in pain, but Dr. Tierney looked unapologetic about it as she pushed Mags back toward the bed.

“I’ve had quite enough of your and your family’s belligerence today, Magdelena,” she said as she forced Mags into a sitting position. “I swear to the mother there is something in the water that gives you lot thick skulls and a poor disposition, but I’m not tolerating it. You will wear this sling until I say otherwise, and if I catch you trying to use your arm during that time, I can and will tranq you, drag you back here, and tie you to a bed. Do you understand me?”

Mags glared up at her, her mouth a tight grimace. I was close enough to see Dr. Tierney’s eyebrow lift in daring challenge, and after a long tense moment, Mags cursed and leaned back.

“Fine!” she spat, awkwardly holding out her arm. “I’m fine, though.”

“No, you aren’t, and firing your rifle today has only exaggerated the bruising on the tendon. If you keep doing it, it will rip, and then I’ll have to perform surgery. Given how your uncle reacted to that idea, I shudder to think how you would, so you mind me. Understand?”

“I understand,” Mags mumbled, and Dr. Tierney nodded once before helping Mags get back into her sling.

“Smart girl,” croaked Alejandro, and I realized he was lying in the bed just past Mags, propped up by a few thin pillows against the metal frame.

Mags rolled her eyes skyward and sighed in defeat. Dr. Tierney glanced over at Alejandro and frowned. “You’re one to talk,” she said, a mite sarcastically, and Alejandro managed to paint a thin smile on his face before his gaze shifted over her shoulder and met mine.

“Hey-yo, boyo,” he said, catching my eye, and I smiled.

“Hey Alejandro—Mags—Dr. Tierney,” I said in greeting, moving up the last few feet to them.

Dr. Tierney tied off the sling and then turned, giving me a considering look as her hand disappeared into the pocket of the coat she was wearing. Withdrawing a scanner, she pointed at me and clicked it on. “I’m fine,” I insisted as she ran the beam over me. “And I’m sorry to intrude. I just came to find out what’s going on with Jay. Ms. Dale said he might not be able to walk?”

Dr. Tierney’s eyes were on the scanner, reading the results as she moved it up and down. “I can’t retrieve the bullet right now because it’s so close to his spine, but it’s too early to say for certain what the end result will be. It is a possibility, however.”

“Well, Violet has this thing she thinks might help, and—”

Dr. Tierney’s eyes shot up, and she cocked her head at me. “What thing?”

“Well, I’m not even entirely sure,” I admitted honestly. “All I know is that her arm is healed and—wait a second, doc.”

She had started to push past me, but I managed to stop her, and she turned back. “What’s going on with Alejandro?” I asked.

“I’m fine,” Alejandro insisted at the same time Dr. Tierney said, “It’s not good, and not likely to get better until your friend lets me operate!”

I turned my gaze from one to the other and then settled on Dr. Tierney. “What’s the problem?”

She sighed and folded her arms over her chest. “Viggo, the metacarpals in some of his fingers are so fractured that I am not going to be able to piece them back together. He’s going to lose a lot of mobility in his hand, and each minute we waste not doing surgery, the more likely it’ll be that I’ll have to amputate instead of trying to repair what I can.”

“Why won’t he let you operate?” I asked.

“Because there are people in more dire need,” replied Alejandro. “I’m fine! I can wait until things calm down. Maybe in a day or so we can—”

“You need surgery now!” Dr. Tierney insisted, and I could tell by the frustrated tone in her voice that this argument had been going on for quite some time. “I’d drug you if I could, but you won’t even let me put a damned IV in your arm—”

“Because you’d drug me,” he cut in smoothly.

“And you are risking any and all functionality on your dominant hand for no good reason! Earlier we couldn’t prioritize you, but now—”

“I’m fine!” Alejandro insisted belligerently, sitting forward. “You just… go check on Violet and Solomon.”

Dr. Tierney cast him a glare and then stalked off, clearly unwilling to argue any further. I hesitated, and then hung back, looking into the man’s blue eyes. “You need to get the surgery, Alejandro,” I said gently. “And if you don’t agree to it, I’m going to go hunt Jenny down and bring her here.”

Alejandro shot me a death glare, his face already screwing up to tell me to mind my own business, when Mags leaned back in the bed and crossed