Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CALVIN
After watching a man get killed—though he tried to kill me first—I should have a dark cloud hanging over my head. I should be thinking about what I saw Atlas do and wonder where the body is hidden.
Instead, I’m floating down the halls of the hospital, a permanent smile etched on my face. What Atlas and I shared the other night, under the stars where anyone could see, was special. Almost like a thread wove around us, tying us together forever.
I never want that feeling to go away.
After I put my things in my locker, I go back to the break room to talk to Atlas for a few minutes before my shift starts. I’m both surprised and unsurprised to find Shameka there, talking to Atlas like they’re old friends.
She throws her head back and laughs at something Atlas says, her cheeks stained with a blush. “Oh please, Atlas. I don’t believe it.”
“No, really. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“Lie about what?” I ask, giving Shameka a look. I’m sure she asked something she wasn’t supposed to.
She grins, all innocence and charm. “He was telling me that he’s a good dancer. That just because he’s bulky doesn’t mean he’s not light on his feet.”
He’s not wrong. When shit went down at my apartment, I didn’t know Atlas had entered the room until he had the man’s throat wide open.
Atlas grins at me, probably thinking the same thing I am. “Tell her, Calvin. You’re supposed to stick up for me.”
I roll my eyes and tuck myself against his side. “Yeah, you’re light on your feet.”
Shameka squeals and places her hand over her heart. “God, I’m so glad you found someone. Now we can double date. How about tonight?”
“Girl, what?” I give her major side eye. “I just got back to work. I have five days of work and I don’t think I’ll be up to a double date after a twelve-hour shift.”
It’s her turn to roll her eyes. “Fine. We’ll discuss after work.”
“Meka…”
She holds her hand up. “Don’t take this from me, Cal. This is your first boyfriend in all the years I’ve known you. Let me be happy for you.”
I throw my hands up, pretending to be irritated. “Fine. Now leave me alone and let me do my rounds.”
A look crosses her face, one I recognize as her ‘I have some bad news’ face.
“Ugh, what?” I ask.
“Nothing… bad,” she mumbles and I give her a hard look. “Okay, fine. They need a nurse down in the ER. You’re a floater today, so you’re up.”
I roll my eyes. “I thought I was done down there.”
“You are. It’s just for this shift. Then you’ll be back with me. Well, after my days off. But just for today.”
I scowl, but it doesn’t last. “Why do you hate me?” I ask sarcastically.
“Please, I love you like a brother.” She looks at Atlas. “You can hang out here if you want. I don’t know how those ER nurses will act with a non-employee hanging out.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, taking Atlas’s hand and leading him out. “He can hang out in room three.”
Room three is the secret location that we set aside for taking quick naps or just getting some downtime in the ER. It’s only used when we have overflow down there and that’s not very often.
“Good idea. Don’t do anything you’re not supposed to down there,” she shouts at my back and I giggle. When I look at Atlas, he has that look on his face like he wants to do something we’re not supposed to do.
Why is that so fucking hot?
We head downstairs and I show Atlas where room three is. It’s a small room just off the nurses’ station, a little way down from the waiting room. It’s the ideal location because he can see who’s coming and going. If he recognizes someone who’s trying to hurt me, he can stop them.
“Okay,” I say, standing on tiptoe to kiss him gently. “If someone asks what you’re doing in here, tell them you’re waiting for the nurse. They’ll leave you alone for at least an hour.”
Atlas rolls his eyes. “Talk about efficiency.”
I thump him in the chest. “Oh please. We’re better than most emergency rooms. Now sit, do your thing, and I’ll come check on you. We’ll go to lunch in a few hours.”
With one more kiss, I breeze out of the room and start my ER shift.
I swear I fucking hate the emergency room. When it’s not busy, it’s boring, but when it is, it’s fucking hectic. Today is one of those hectic days. I barely have time to breathe, let alone check on Atlas.
It seems like everyone decided today was the day to sprain or break something. In the four hours before my lunch break, I see three kids with broken arms—skateboarding or jumping off shit—and two men thought it was a great idea to climb up a ladder without someone holding it.
By the time I finally get back to Atlas, I’m fucking footsore and beat. I step inside room three and press my back to the door, blowing out an exhausted breath. He looks up from his laptop, his eyes roaming over me. “Tired?”
“Very,” I say, dragging my feet over to the bed. “I’ll grab us some lunch in a few. Just let me rest my feet.”
“I’ll get you a sandwich.” He comes over to me, lifting my legs onto the bed. “You rest here. I’ll just tell anyone who asks I have a food delivery for Nurse Hayes.”
I hum and close my sandpaper eyes. “You’re the best.”
He kisses me quickly, then mutters, “I know.”
I chuckle as he leaves the room. When the door closes, I sigh long and heavy. I wanted an easy day when I came back from three days off. Damn Shameka for sending me down here.
Opening my eyes, I root around for the remote and turn the television on. I only have a thirty-minute break, but I can stretch it to an hour if I hide out here. After the shit I just had to go through with five crying people with broken bones, I think I’ve earned a long lunch.
Ten minutes later, Atlas slides back into the room, a tray piled high with food. He sets it down on the tray table and wheels it over to me. “I got the soup of the day. You hungry right now, or you want to rest for a bit?”
“Rest. I’ll eat, but right before I go back onto the floor.” I smile at him. “I don’t mind cold soup.”
Atlas slides the table away, then sits at the end of the bed and pulls my feet into his lap. “You okay?” he asks, peeling my shoes off.
“Concerning… ?”
“Everything goin’ on around us. How are you?”
I exhale wearily. “I’m surviving, Atlas. That’s the only thing I can do. I can only watch your back and make it from one day to the next.”
He nods as his fingers start working magic on my sore feet. I groan, his strong hands hitting all the right spots.
“Right there,” I moan, pleasure shooting to my dick when he presses into my instep. Who knew that was a hot spot for me?
Atlas chuckles, but doesn’t let up, rubbing my feet until I’m a fucking puddle.
By the time he’s done, I’m practically boneless, my eyes drooping and tiredness blanketing me.
But like the good boyfriend he is, Atlas makes me eat, even feeding me the soup while I grumble about going back onto the floor after that amazing fucking massage. He should have pulled that out on my days off.
“You owe me one of those every night,” I tell him when I put my shoes back on before I have to go back to work.
“Anything you want.” He pulls me close and I rest my head on his chest, breathing in his scent. “Only a few more hours and we can go home. I’ll rub you all over if you want me to.”
“Promises, promises, Mr. Sinclair.”
I clean up our trash and take it to the cafeteria, then go back on the floor.
Thankfully, the last half of my shift isn’t as bad. There are a bunch of sick kids who stroll in, but I got my flu shot and shouldn’t be affected by those tiny petri dishes. But I still stay masked up and use hand sanitizer like it’s going out of style.
I’m able to check on Atlas a few times, and he tells me he hasn’t seen anyone suspicious pass by, then he turns his computer around and shows me the fucking cameras in the emergency room.
My eyes bug out as I watch my coworkers move around, from the doors to the ER back to the entrance to the service elevator.
“How did you hack into the hospital cameras? I didn’t know you had skills like that.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “I don’t. Wylder has a friend who always seems to owe him a favor. He was able to do it for me and sent me this link. As long as I have an internet connection, I can see the entire department.”
I wonder who the person Wylder knows is. It’s really handy to be this tech savvy, but also kinda scary. What else can he hack into? My phone? My television? My fucking microwave?
Yeah, I’m sure my microwave can be hacked. I run my hand down my face, tiredness resting heavily on my shoulders. I always think weird shit when I’m tired.
“I have one more hour of my shift,” I say, rubbing my dry eyes. “And I’m not staying late, no matter what anyone asks. This is why I told Shameka we can’t double date. I don’t know how she has so much energy after a shift.” I pause, then amend, “Yes I do. She’s not in the fucking ER.”
“It’s almost over. Then you’ll be in my arms for the rest of the night.”
“No more fucking ER shifts. I’m going to tell her as soon as I see her.”
With that, I head back out on the floor, wrapping up the last few patients I have and handing them off to the next shift.
Not even a minute over my shift, I go to room three, retrieve Atlas, and we go upstairs to my normal floor and grab my things from my locker.
Atlas leans against the door, eyeing the locker room. “This is cozy.”
I look over at him, taking in the heat in his eyes and his half-hard cock. Barking a laugh, I shoulder my bag and walk over to him. Pressing my body close to his, I say, “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“No lock on the door. And no privacy. We could be caught.”
His hum sends shivers rolling down my spine. “That could be hot.”
I snort and grab his hand, leading him out of the room. “No, Mr. Sinclair.”
“Yeah, room three is cozier.” Dropping his voice, he says, “It has a comfortable bed.”
I shake my head, but my mind drifts to what it would be like to be full of Atlas with my coworkers on the other side of the door. He might be on to something. But not tonight. The only thing I want to do in a bed is cuddle with my man and sleep.
When we step outside the hospital, Atlas and I walk hand in hand into the night.
Leaning my head back, I drag my feet and say, “I’m going to murder my friend for making me go to the ER. She really hates me.”
“It’s for character development,” Atlas jokes, and I glare at him.
“My character is fully developed, thank you very much. She just hates me. Mean, mean friend.”
Atlas chuckles, then points to a bench right beside his car. “You can tell her how mean she is.”
Shameka is sitting on the bench, her arms crossed over her chest and her feet crossed at the ankle. Her chin rests against her chest—she’s probably taking a cat nap. But come on, she shouldn’t be tired. She probably sat at the nurses’ station all day.
“And she wanted to go on a double date tonight?” I scoff. “She can’t even keep her eyes open.” I look at my watch, then my face twists in confusion. “She should have gone home by now, though. She came in two hours before me. Think she was waiting to talk to me before I went home?”
Even as I ask the question, I know it’s not right. She should have gone home. If she wanted to talk to me, she could have come downstairs to the ER or called me after my shift.
I slow down my steps, looking left and right. Atlas takes in my demeanor and goes on high alert, his hand going into his laptop case. “What is it?”
My heart thumps and my breathing saws in and out of my lungs. It’s only ratcheted up because we’re feet away from Shameka and she hasn’t moved. Not even a twitch.
“Atlas,” I whisper, not taking my eyes off my best friend. “She’s not…”
He gets my meaning and pushes me behind him. “Get in the car.”
“No,” I mumble even before he finishes speaking. “I can’t. Let me… I’ll… Shameka,” I call to her, praying that she snaps her head up and gives me that goofy smile and flirts with Atlas.
But she doesn’t move.
Atlas curses, but doesn’t try to get me in the car again. “Careful,” he says as I walk over to Shameka.
A strangled sob leaves my throat as I see the wetness down her front. In the dark, the red of her blood isn’t visible, but I can smell the coppery scent from here.
“Oh God,” I rush over to her, wanting to help, but Atlas grabs me. “Get off! I need—”
“You need to pay attention,” he says in a hard voice I’ve never heard before. My eyes snap to his, tears streaking down my face. “She’s on a bench beside my car, where no one would find her, where there’s little to no foot traffic. What do you think that means?”
Atlas parked near the back of the parking lot where hardly anyone parks because he said he wanted to be able to see anyone coming after us from a ways off. It made sense at the time, but right now it’s inconvenient, because it’s going to take the stretcher a while to get back here to her.
“I don’t care what it means!” I’m borderline hysterical, pissed anew that Atlas won’t let me go to her.
Maybe I can help. I can save her. I snatch away from him and rush over to Shameka, but even as I approach, I know she’s gone.
The gray pallor of her skin is apparent, even in the darkness of the night.
Lowering myself to the ground in front of her, I cry, feeling like my chest is going to cave in. God, who did this? Why did they kill her? Shameka is innocent.
Was.
She was innocent.
I rest my hand on her knee, not able to keep my sobs at bay. When I look up at her, it’s then I notice the piece of paper clutched in her hands. My name is on the front.
“Atlas.” I point to the letter and he eases it from her grasp. I stare at her face, and she looks like she could be sleeping. She’s relaxed, not a sign of pain on her face. I wish that were the case.
Shameka was the first friend I made here.
She mentored me as a newer nurse in a brand new area and made me feel welcome.
She introduced me to her family, had me over for dinner, kept my secrets, and shared a few of her own.
She’s my best friend and now she’s gone.
What kind of fucking lunatic would do this?
My question is answered when Atlas curses and hands the letter to me. At the same time, he pulls me to my feet and handles me bodily until he has me shoved into the car.
“Wait,” I shout, trying to push past him, but Atlas blocks my way. “I need to help her.”
“Read the letter, Calvin.”
Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I look at the letter in the sparse light from the street lamp.
Calvin,
I’m glad you found my gift. Meet me at this address so we can talk. I’ll even tell you her last words before I end you.
My heart stops, then beats triple time in my chest. Only one person is this cold, this callous, this fucking diabolical.
“Mitchell.”