Chapter Ten
Jenna
Two Weeks Later
It was late Wednesday morning, and it seemed as though we’d been gifted a quiet moment to catch up on our administrative work. We were shorthanded that shift, but while we were few, we were mighty. At least, I thought so.
Lindsey rolled her chair closer to me and murmured, “Okay, talk fast. I need an update.”
I smiled as I finished the task I’d been working on, then swiveled my chair to face her.
Earlier in the shift, I’d gotten her love-life-download. She’d been on five dates with the same guy. His name was Wayne, and I could tell she was really starting to like him. I was happy for her and the promising turn her endeavors had finally taken.
I wasn’t fairing too poorly myself.
Josh had asked me out. Thrice .
The previous week, we’d met for coffee. I had the day off, he had a vacant hour in his afternoon, so we made it work. I appreciated the casual atmosphere and was pleased to learn he was just as attractive in person as he was online. Conversation between us was engaging, he made me laugh, and he checked a few boxes that left me wanting more.
Our second date had been for drinks after one of my shifts. I couldn’t quite figure out how a guy like him was still on the market, but I didn’t overthink it. Rather, I tried to enjoy it. Enjoy him . His intellect. His charm. His confidence.
“What’s his name again?” asked Lindsey.
“Josh.”
“Right. Josh. And tonight will be date three?”
“Yeah. Drinks again. I was kind of hoping we’d graduate to dinner, but our schedules haven’t meshed very well. We’re taking what we can get.”
“That’s a good sign. His willingness to make an effort, I mean. Has he kissed you yet?”
I drew in a deep breath as I nodded.
“Oh. What’s that face?” asked Lindsey with a frown.
“Nothing. It’s nothing. He’s a good kisser,” I insisted. “I just—I’m trying to go slow.”
What I didn’t tell her was, when Josh had kissed me, I couldn’t help but to compare his kiss to Maverick’s. Unsurprisingly, it fell short. But I was doing my best not to hold it against him. It wasn’t his fault he happened to come into my life after I’d met a man who kissed me better than anyone ever had. Ever .
It also wasn’t his fault I went to bed each night aching for the body of another man. This was why I wanted to take things slow, because it wasn’t fair to Josh.
The night he kissed me, he’d seemed pretty disappointed that I didn’t want to take it further. He’d made it very clear he was more than a little interested in moving at a faster speed, but I needed to get Maverick out of my head first. Whatever we had was over now. There was no going back. It was far too complicated. Not to mention, he’d made his feelings towards me perfectly clear.
When I thought about it too much, I still felt the sting of his last words to me.
They’d hurt more than I anticipated.
I really hated the way he saw me.
Moreover, I hated the reflection of myself cast in the mirror he was always so quick to hold in front of my face.
But none of that mattered now.
I was moving on.
“Pull up his profile again. I need a refresher,” said Lindsey with a waggle of her eyebrows.
I laughed softly as I reached for my phone and opened the app. I navigated to our messages, then clicked on his profile and turned my screen to face her.
“What are we looking at?” asked Abbie as she rushed into the nurses’ station, clutching her tablet to her chest.
“His name is Josh, and he is cute ,” Lindsey answered.
I wasn’t thinking about Josh anymore, too distracted by Abbie’s demeanor.
I watched as she reached for the end of one of her braids and tugged on it nervously.
“Yeah,” she mumbled absentmindedly. “Super cute.”
Lowering my phone, I asked, “Hey, is everything okay?”
“What? Yeah. Fine. Why?” she answered, tossing her braid over her shoulder.
I shook my head, still studying her closely. “Just checking.”
“Jenna?”
Dr. Grant had been the one to call my name, but it was Abbie I was looking at when he did. It was impossible to miss the quick way she spun around and walked to the other side of the nurses' station at his approach.
As I turned to address Logan, I made a mental note to circle back with Abbie when I had a chance.
“Dr. Grant?” I replied as I faced him.
He wasn’t even looking at me, his gaze aimed at the tablet in his hand as he muttered, “What can you tell me about the patient in bay nine?”
I set aside my phone as I stood.
I could tell him a lot about Cathy, our frequent flyer in bay nine.
I didn’t get a chance to follow-up with Abbie before the end of my shift, the afternoon having been totally non-stop. I glanced at the schedule, noticed we worked together the next day, and promised myself I’d make time to check on her then. Aware I had someplace to be that night, I then hurried for my car.
In all honesty, I was a bit less excited for my date as I drove home than I had been earlier in the day. I was exhausted, but I didn’t want to cancel last minute. Josh and I had a hard enough time as it was scheduling our meets. I was beginning to think part of the reason he was still single was because he focused so much of his time on his career.
Not that it was a bad thing, just something for me to consider.
We had plans to meet at nine, which meant I had enough time to run inside, throw together a quick sandwich, and eat it while I picked an outfit. I decided to go with a dress that night. I had a cream, short-sleeved, calf-length, casual dress with a generous skirt, complete with a slit up the side. It had a subtle pattern of small, beige, oblong dots all over. It was fitted at my torso, making it flattering but not suggesting, which was the exact look I was going for.
I was halfway through my sandwich when I set it aside to hop in the shower. I was in and out, in front of the mirror applying a little makeup in under ten minutes. By the time I was dressed and ready to head out the door, I’d managed to eat all but the last quarter of my dinner. I abandoned it, not wanting to be late.
We’d agreed to meet at a little dive bar on First St., and Josh was already there when I arrived. I spotted him seated at the counter, and he smiled, waved, and stood as I approached.
“Hi,” I greeted over the music.
“Hey, beautiful,” he replied, leaning in to kiss my cheek.
It felt nice, so I checked a box.
As we sat, he nodded at the drink already waiting for me on the bar. “Wasn’t exactly sure what you wanted, but that’s what you drank last time. I took a chance and ordered ahead.”
“A ranch water is perfect. Thank you,” I assured him, appreciative of his thoughtful memory.
We fell into conversation easily enough, and as we did, I noticed how he seemed to be sitting closer to me than the last time we met. He was also touching me more. A graze of a finger down my arm. His hand on my knee. His lips against the side of my face as he spoke flirtatiously in my ear.
I found I didn’t mind. Except, while I was open to a bit of kissing before the night was over, I didn’t have any intention of sleeping with him. Not yet. He was handsome, in a very clean-cut sort of way, and I was interested but still very adamant about taking things slow. I wanted something real to develop between us first.
We’d been talking for no longer than twenty minutes when I suddenly felt extremely tired. More tired than normal. I hadn’t finished my drink yet, so I didn’t think it was the tequila. I’d had a long day, but I’d never fallen asleep on a guy in the middle of a date before, and I was mortified at the possibility that I might do just that.
Thinking a quick trip to the bathroom could help, allowing me the chance to walk around a little, I touched his shoulder and gently interrupted him. “Sorry, I’m so sorry to cut you off—I need to run to the restroom really fast. Give me two minutes?”
“Yeah. Sure. No problem.”
I nodded, slid off my barstool, and adjusted my purse over my shoulder as I headed for the ladies’ room. I closed myself in the largest stall before I started to feel dizzy.
That’s when I knew something wasn’t right.
I slapped myself across the face, and it did nothing to rouse me. I then shook my head, wondering what was happening. When the room began to spin, I decided that had been a bad idea. Panic started to gnaw at my stomach as I made my way to the toilet and sat down, not even bothering to pull up my dress.
Something was definitely wrong.
I immediately dug into my purse for my phone.
Without thinking twice about it, I found Maverick’s number and initiated a call.
It rang once, then went straight to voicemail.
I tried again.
I got sent to voicemail a second time.
The room was seriously starting to spin again as I tried a third time.
When the call went through, I didn’t even give him a chance to speak before I said, “I’m at Montgomery’s. In the bathroom. I think he slipped something into my drink.” I shut my eyes closed tight, trying to ward off the effects of whatever I was feeling, but it was no use. Realizing what I’d said was likely true, my panic morphed into complete and utter terror. I tried not to cry as I muttered, “Mav—please, please help…”
I lost my grip on the phone, and it clattered to the floor. I looked down at it, confused how I’d dropped it, then bent to reach for it.
As I folded over, before I could grab it, the whole world went black.
Maverick
“Son-of-a-bitch,” he muttered as he threw down his pool cue.
Twister looked at him expectantly. Maverick said nothing as he quickly thought through his best course of action.
The night was still young. He was only a couple beers in. He was good to drive. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was, Jenna—whose speech was slurred before she, presumably, passed out—could not get on the back of his bike. This meant, he had to go home and get his truck.
If he had the time, such an inconvenience would have pissed him off.
But he didn’t have the time.
What he had were his brothers.
His eyes still pointed in his direction, Maverick jerked his chin at Twister and asked, “You drunk?”
“No, why?”
“Need a favor.” Before he spelled it out, he looked to the next nearest brother without a drink in his hand. “Rodeo,” he called across the room. “Need a favor.”
When both men were standing in front of him, he instructed, “Go to Montgomery’s, get there fast, and park out front. You see a man walk out with a woman who looks dead on her feet, stop him.”
Twister and Rodeo exchanged a glance.
“I’ll be right behind you.”
Without another word, Maverick headed for his hog.
Twister and Rodeo were hot on his heels.
There were no questions.
The men just rode.
It took Maverick ten minutes to get to his house. He didn’t even bother parking his Harley in the shed, leaving it in his driveway as he ran in to get the keys to his truck and ran back out to climb behind the wheel. He screeched out of his parking spot and sped down the road.
As he drove, he had time to let his rage simmer.
He’d answered the call to tell her he wasn’t interested in what she had to say—but what she had to say wasn’t at all what he expected. It was the hitch in her voice, the evidence of her fear, that forced him into action.
He’d been her first call. And her second. And her third.
He didn’t let himself dwell on the significance of that.
He just hoped he wasn’t too late.
There was an empty handicapped spot right in front of the bar, and he pulled into it without hesitation. Twister and Rodeo were already off their hogs, standing on either side of the entrance. As Maverick slammed his driver’s side door behind him, he locked eyes with Twister. His VP shook his head once, and Maverick replied with a nod before heading inside, his brothers at his back.
He glanced through the bar as he made his way straight to the ladies’ room, wondering if the punk was still there. He got a few curious stares, but until he laid eyes on Jenna, his hunt for the man responsible for the fear he’d heard over the phone would have to wait. When he reached his desired destination, he pounded loudly on the door.
“I’m comin’ in. You don’t want me in there, best get out,” he yelled.
He pounded again, then waited a second. A woman came scurrying out, frowning at him in confusion.
It wasn’t Jenna, so he paid her no mind.
Instead, he barreled his way through the open door.
“Babe?” he called, not startled when she didn’t respond.
He bent to look underneath a couple of the stalls and spotted her phone and then her feet, her toenails painted pale gray.
Fuck , he thought as he stood to full height.
He studied the space above and below the stall door, wondering if he had a better chance of getting in climbing over or sliding under.
Deciding he was tall enough to hoist himself over, he reached for the top of the door, pushed himself as high as his arms would extend, then used his feet to help him up the rest of the way. For a moment after he’d landed on the other side, he was grateful she’d closed herself into the biggest stall.
Then he got a good look at her. The rage which simmered inside of him grew to a boil.
She was in a dress, sitting on the toilet, folded over herself. Her arms dangled lifeless to the floor, and her hair was obscuring her face.
If she hadn’t had the presence of mind to lock herself in the bathroom, only God knew what could have happened to her.
He reached for her phone and slid it into his back pocket, then gently brushed her hair away from her face.
“I got you, babe,” he murmured, grabbing hold of her side underneath her arm.
He lifted her until her torso was upright, revealing the purse she’d smushed against her legs. He grabbed it, looped the straps over his wrist, then leaned down far enough to hook the same arm underneath her legs. When he had her cradled against his chest, he carefully unlocked the stall door, kicked it open, and started for the exit.
“Holy fuck,” muttered Rodeo as soon as Maverick made his way out of the bathroom.
“Fuckin’ hell,” grumbled Twister, his expression showcasing his own fury.
Maverick stopped, looked at the VP and stated plainly, “I want a name.”
“On it.”
Rodeo took it upon himself to clear a path to the door, holding it open for Maverick as they approached. He then jogged the short distance to Maverick’s truck and reached for the passenger side door.
“Backseat,” Maverick instructed.
Rodeo complied, and Maverick gently laid Jenna across the length of the leather bench.
“Need any help?” asked Rodeo when she was closed inside.
“Find the bastard. I got her.”
Rodeo nodded, then hurried back inside.
Maverick got behind the wheel and pointed his truck towards Jenna’s.
Thirty minutes later, Jenna was in an old sleep shirt Maverick had found in a dresser drawer after a bit of rummaging. She was out cold, tucked beneath the covers in her bed. He was sitting up beside her, his legs stretched out, his boots on the floor. He couldn’t help but to admire her profile as she slept.
He’d never seen her sleep.
In that moment, he hated seeing her so vulnerable.
His foxy lady was not fragile.
Not even in slumber.
He was sure of it.
But this wasn’t merely sleep.
His phone rang from inside his pocket, and he was quick to extract it.
When he saw Twister was trying to reach him, he answered without delay.
“What do you got?” he asked in greeting.
“Paid with a credit card. Stupid fuck. Name’s Joshua Reynolds. Assume you want him found?”
Maverick scowled. “I really need to answer that?”
Twister dropped it and asked, “How is she?”
“Sleepin’.”
“Right.”
“Need to get her car,” he stated, looking down at her once more.
“We’ll sort it. Text the details?”
Not for the first or the last time, he was grateful for his brothers.
“Yup.”
“Alright. Let us know if you need anything else.”
“Yup,” Maverick repeated.
They disconnected, and Maverick shot Twister the information he needed.
Then he waited, like a night watchman.
He didn’t sleep a wink.
Jenna’s phone alarm sounded at six A.M., and Maverick let it beep for a minute to see if she would wake. When she didn’t, he shut it off and then called the hospital. He asked if Jenna was on the schedule that day. Learning she was, he told the woman on the other end of the line Jenna was under the weather and wouldn’t make it in for her shift.
It was another four hours before he heard her pull in a deep breath followed by a pathetic groan. Still seated next to her, Maverick looked down and watched as she reached her hands up to rub at her temples, as if her head ached. When she finally opened her eyes, she spotted him, gasped, and sat up straight away.
He knew she regretted it instantly.
“Oh, god,” she breathed, holding her head. She didn’t bother looking at him as she asked, “What are you doing here? Why is my head pounding?”
“What do you remember from last night?”
Jenna raked her fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her face as she carefully turned her head to look over at him. “Um…”
He watched as it dawned on her that she didn’t remember anything .
“Wait, what time is it?”
“Last night, Jenna,” he prompted calmly.
“I—um—I left work and…” Her breathing grew shallow as confusion clouded her pretty hazel-green eyes. “I—I can’t remember. I, um—I had a date. But—Mav? Oh, my god. Maverick, why are you here?”
He saw it, as her confusion morphed into fear, and the anger which he’d managed to get under control in the hours he’d waited for her to wake reared its ugly head.
Maverick bolted out of the bed and reached down for his boots.
“He didn’t touch you,” he assured Jenna. “You slept it off. Already called the hospital and told them you’d be out sick today. I’m outta here.”
True to his word, he headed for the door.
“Wait, Mav! Wait!”
He didn’t wait another breath.
He couldn’t wait another second.
He’d waited all night.
It was time to deal with Joshua Reynolds.