Chapter 3
HOLLAND
Cami Hayes released a tired sigh as she plopped down in a chair behind the nurses’ station, wisps of her long blonde hair escaping the bun on the top of her head.
I leaned against the counter on the other side, watching her try to catch her breath.
The constant drone of beeping machines and chatter that filled the air was punctuated by the occasional sound of someone screaming or crying.
The emergency room had been busier than usual with two car accidents.
As part of my job, I evaluated patients with mental health concerns at the hospital twice a week.
My years in Sacramento had given me the chance I’d always wanted—to help others.
Tonight, I’d been called in to assess a young man with severe depression and violent tendencies.
Cases like his could be draining, but every patient who found a way back to themselves made it worth every second.
Once, I’d needed that same kind of help.
But no one had come. No one had heard me when the night terrors had clawed at the few hours of sleep I’d managed.
Not until I’d found the two people who’d finally pulled me out of the dark.
That was why I couldn’t turn away. I wouldn’t let someone else be left alone in their madness.
Not if I could stop it. Not ever. Except maybe one person …
Before heading home, I wanted to say hi to Cami.
She had quickly befriended me when I’d moved back to Portland seven months ago from Sacramento.
I’d returned to be closer to my family and start a new position with a top-rated psychologist and his business partner, and this role included time at St. Vincent Hospital.
I approached the nurses’ station and planted my elbows on the front of the counter. “It's a wild night,” I replied, taking a sip of my lukewarm soda, and scrunched my nose in disgust. I hated to throw it away since it was half-full, but flat all the same.
“No shit.” Cami rolled her neck and massaged her shoulder.
My red strands fell into my face as I leaned against the counter. “You look tired. What time do you get off work?”
“Five in the morning.” She glanced at her watch and grimaced. “Another three hours to go. I need coffee, and a lot of it.” The corner of her mouth kicked up. “Do you think they have coffee in IV form?”
I arched a brow in agreement. “Shit, I wish. Maybe we should invent it, get rich, and retire early.”
“Hell, yes. Sign me up.” Cami grinned.
A loud outburst cut through the chaos, and I looked up to see the back of a tall man struggling against a nurse’s grip near the entrance.
“Let go of me!” he yelled while his cheeks flushed with anger. The nurse attempted to calm him down while a doctor and a security officer rushed to assist her.
Cami shot me an inquisitive look as she casually remarked, “Looks like we have some entertainment. I should go help.” She hopped out of her seat and hurried to assist.
I locked onto the man at the center of the chaos. My heart slammed in my chest, each beat echoing like a war drum as sheer terror cascaded through my veins. An all-consuming urge to run surged through me, threatening to consume me in a tide of panic.
The voice pierced through me like a serrated blade, sending icy tremors coursing down my spine and igniting a raw, primal terror that clawed at my insides.
My hands shook violently as I slammed the papers onto the nurses’ station. With nurses focused on the man screaming, no one noticed me slip down the hallway. Each step felt like I was wading through molasses, desperate to distance myself from him.
Dizziness swirled in my head, threatening to pull me under as I stumbled forward, slapping a palm against the stark white wall for support. The man's rage-filled screams echoed down the hallway, driving me toward the only escape in sight—an employee storage room door that promised temporary safety.
I fumbled for my ID card, shaking so violently that it took several tries to scan it properly.
Finally, with a loud click, the door unlocked, and I practically threw myself into the room.
The light snapped on, illuminating the printer paper, ink, pens, tablets, and other supplies.
I flipped the switch, turning it off again and welcoming the silence.
I desperately tried to calm my racing pulse and push away the flood of traumatic memories that threatened to pull me under.
My blood thundered through my veins as I whispered to myself, “How the hell is he here?” With wobbly legs, I hugged the cinder block wall and inched my way toward the corner of the small room. The panic attack ripped through me at Mach speed, each breath ragged and desperate.
I pressed my fingertips to my temple, willing myself to calm down. Gritting my teeth, I stifled a rush of self-hatred. I was a coward hiding in a room instead of owning my power. What happened to that grown woman with self-defense training and a concealed carry permit?
I hit the bullseye on a target almost every time.
“I can protect myself,” I said in a hushed tone.
But those thoughts continued to taunt me. I covered my ears in a stupid attempt to block out the noise of the memories.
“Dammit, Holland. Get a fucking grip. This is a hospital,” I reminded myself. “Security guards and colleagues are right outside. He can’t hurt you here.”
I wiped my sweaty palms against my black pants.
My emotions were a storm I had to push aside, yet they clung to me, refusing to be ignored.
I rolled my neck and shoulders, staring into the blackness that mirrored my turmoil.
No one could ever know about my past or the danger that haunted me now.
I had painstakingly rebuilt my life, burying the trauma and embracing anonymity.
But now, seeing that familiar face, all the memories surged back, threatening to unravel everything I had fought so hard to hide.
I leaned my head back against the wall, a twisted thought clawing its way to the forefront of my mind.
My breathing hitched as I fought to regain control, pushing through the remaining tendrils of PTSD.
With a sharp inhale, I straightened my spine and defiantly lifted my chin.
That son of a bitch was on my territory this time.
I flipped on the overhead lights, squinting against the brightness.
When my vision adjusted, I opened the door and strolled into the hall with a confidence I didn’t feel.
I focused on the sound of my high heels slapping against the white tile floors, which helped me remain in the present moment as I returned to the nurses’ station.
I scanned the emergency room, searching for any sign of him.
Had he been caught and removed from the hospital?
Or worse, had he seen me? The tension in my muscles tightened even further, twisting into painful knots as I searched the busy area.
“Girl, you missed it,” Cami said, placing her hand on her hip as she approached me. Her pretty features flashed with mischief.
I rubbed my hands up and down my upper arms, as if trying to shake off the sudden cold seeping into my body—and hoping to hide the fact that I was upset.
If Cami noticed my anxiety, she would demand explanations I wasn’t prepared to give.
Yet, a part of me longed to confide in her, while I wrestled with the fear of vulnerability and the desire for support.
“I desperately needed to use the bathroom. What did I miss?”
Cami sucked on her lower lip and tilted her head to the side. I followed her nod, preparing to see that monster again.
“The cops showed up and hauled that guy out of the ER. They’re talking to another nurse, Lyndsey, and Dr. Richton now.” She turned slowly, grinning like a Cheshire cat about to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse.
I looked over at the two police officers engaged in conversation with Lyndsey and Dr. Richton.
“Oh, that’s nice scenery,” I said softly while I checked out the tall hottie with brown hair.
His black pants clung to strong thighs and a gorgeous ass.
I bit my lip, playing it up for Cami’s sake.
I wasn’t interested in dating right now, but she didn’t know that.
“Is he new?” Over the last few months, I’d met several of the officers due to my job here, but I didn’t recognize him.
His broad shoulders tensed beneath his blue shirt as he took notes, listening intently to Lyndsey.
“Girl, I don’t know, but maybe we should introduce ourselves. Officer Jackson is hot, but the other one … Hell, they both look like they walked off the cover of a magazine. They might be a fun night.” She stifled her giggle. “You take your pick.”
I wasn’t the only newly single one. Cami was still reeling from a brutal breakup, the kind that leaves cracks you can’t hide with lipstick and laughter. Her ex had been a cop too, which made it all the more surprising that she was willing to joke about dating another one.
“They certainly don’t hurt my feelings any, but you know I’ve sworn off dating cops.” Or anyone else involved with the law and with the ability to learn my secrets. Regardless, I was grateful for the fleeting distraction.
Cami squeezed my shoulder. “I think it could be good for you, babe. Getting under someone else could help you move on after Coop.”
“I wish it were that simple,” I said, unable to hide the pain in my tone.
I still missed Cooper, but I would get over it.
Over him. The relationship had been a constant rollercoaster, and I finally had to get off that wild ride.
At least I’d left him in California, and the distance was good for my soul.
I watched as Officer Jackson's stern features softened slightly while speaking to Lyndsey.
As the conversation concluded, the new officer fixed his gaze on me, and my pulse pounded like a drum.
His piercing brown stare pinned me in place with an intensity that stole my breath, sending an electrifying shiver racing down my spine.
I hastily averted my attention, the heat of a blush burning my cheeks.
Though I had no interest in a relationship, the whirlwind of fear and adrenaline from moments earlier had left me thrumming with energy, craving a release.
Apparently, I was infatuated with men in uniform, which was dangerous.
Even Cooper had started digging too deep during our relationship, and I knew I had to sever ties before he unearthed my dark secrets.
The thought of being near detectives or cops was worse than a nosy boyfriend, and it sent a jolt of panic through me.
It was a gamble I couldn't afford to take.
The officers bid their farewells and headed toward the door, leaving a trail of staring nurses in their wake. My friend nudged me with a mischievous grin.
“Looks like the newbie has taken a liking to you,” she teased.
I rolled my eyes. “As much as I’d love to stay and keep you entertained, I need to head to my place.”
Cami gave me a big hug. “Be safe, and text me later.”
I offered her a warm smile. “I will. Have a good one.”
When Cami had learned I was a single woman in the big city, she’d made me promise to message her when I got home if I was out at night.
She did the same with me and a few other friends.
I appreciated the sense of safety it provided.
Hell, we all did. Around the time I’d moved to Portland, there had been a serial killer on the loose, although there hadn’t been any news recently.
It was almost as if he’d disappeared into thin air without leaving a trace. I could hope, anyway.
Still on high alert from the unexpected visitor, I scanned my surroundings with a hawk-like intensity as I stalked down the deserted hallway toward the elevator.
The oppressive weight of the parking garage always gnawed at me, yet I convinced myself it was a fortress compared to the vulnerability outside, especially at night.
A sharp chill raced up my spine, and the hair on the back of my neck stood rigid, prompting me to slow my pace and whip around, searching frantically for a sign of movement.
But the corridor was empty, mocking my paranoia.
I steeled myself with a mental pep talk and dashed to the elevator, jabbing the button with urgency.
The doors abruptly parted with a mechanical sigh, revealing a somber woman and her small child.
I mustered a warm smile as they passed, though the shadow of their sadness clung to the air.
Had they experienced the cruel hand of loss, or was a loved one battling for life in that sterile place?
My insatiable curiosity, usually an asset in my line of work, now served as a mere diversion from the lingering dread that had clawed its way into my being.
A shudder worked its way through me, and I gave the painful memories of my past a swift kick in the ass.
I softly hummed “Paper Bag” by Fiona Apple as I waited for the elevator to reach the correct floor.
Before I reached my level, I located my car keys and held them tightly.
I nodded at the people waiting to enter the elevator before I stepped out and into the garage.
The parking lot had been nearly full when I’d arrived, and I’d been forced to park on the opposite side of the building entrance.
My footsteps echoed through the otherwise quiet area, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
I walked faster past a row of vehicles, chiding myself for forgetting my weapon at home.
I always carried when I worked at night, but I’d been in a rush to leave and had forgotten.
Thundering footsteps pounded behind me, sending a cold prickling sensation through my body.
I whipped around, my chest squeezing tight, but there was nothing—no one—in sight.
My mind raced with denial, refusing to accept the possibility that I was losing my grip on reality.
“Who's there?” I called out, struggling to keep my voice steady.
My legs shook as I attempted to keep my back covered, but there were too many rows of vehicles that could easily hide someone. I was exposed.
Instead of a response, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind and a large palm covered my mouth, stifling my scream.