Chapter 1 #2
“I’ll go work on my bedside manner when I have time to spare.” I apply the numbing cream before making the first stitch, pulling the thread through his skin. “Now hold still unless you want me to stab you with this needle.”
He does, watching me with those burning amber eyes. There’s something about him that sets my nerves on edge, makes my skin feel too tight. It’s not just his arrogance, though that’s certainly part of it. It’s something deeper. Something I can’t name.
I finish the stitches in silence, my hands steady despite the way my pulse has started racing. When I’m done, I bandage the wound and step back.
“Keep it clean and dry for twenty-four hours. Come back in a week to have the stitches removed.”
Grayson stands, pulling his pants back on carefully. He then reaches for his cap and whips it off. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he pulls out a silver Sharpie and scrawls his signature across the brim.
“Here.” He tosses it to me. “As a thank you.”
The arrogance is stunning. Truly stunning.
I catch the cap automatically, staring at the messy signature, my voice dry. “Wow. Your handwriting is terrible.”
He limps toward the door, favoring his injured leg. “Try to contain your excitement.”
Then he’s gone, disappearing into the chaos of the ER.
I look down at the cap in my hands. The signature is barely legible, all loops and flourishes. I wonder how much I could get for it if I sold it online.
The thought makes me smile for the first time in hours. If he’s as famous as he says, I might make some money off this.
I turn to toss the cap onto the counter to pack up the supplies when something small and metal catches the light on the exam table. It’s a keychain, a tiny teddy bear made of soft brown fabric, attached to a silver ring. It must have fallen out of Grayson’s jacket when he was getting dressed.
I grab it and rush out into the hallway, scanning the chaos for dark hair and broad shoulders. The ER is still packed with patients from the collision, nurses and doctors moving between exam rooms in organized chaos. I catch a glimpse of the hockey team’s blue uniforms near the entrance.
“Wait!” I call out, pushing through the crowd.
But by the time I reach the doors, the bus is already pulling away from the curb, its taillights disappearing into the dark June night.
I stand there for a moment, the keychain heavy in my palm. The tiny bear stares up at me with black button eyes. It’s worn, the fabric faded in places like it’s been carried for a long time. There’s something about it that tugs at something in my chest. Something important.
I should drop it off at the lost and found. I make a mental note to do exactly that. Once I’m done with my patients.
I shove it into my scrub pocket and dive back into work. There are still patients to see, wounds to clean, vitals to check. The next few hours blur past in a haze of controlled chaos. By the time the last patient is stabilized and the ER finally quiets, it’s three in the morning.
An hour past the end of my shift.
Dragging myself to the break room, every muscle in my body screams in protest. The keychain is still in my pocket.
Pulling it out, I turn the tiny bear over between my fingers.
This really should go to the lost and found.
But the idea of taking it all the way there makes me groan. My legs are jelly at this point.
Tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow.
I grab my things from the locker just as Brooke walks in. “Leaving?”
I’m changing into my day clothes as I glance at her. “Don’t tell me we have another emergency.”
She grins, opening her locker. “No. But could you give me a ride? My brother was supposed to pick me up, but he’s not answering his phone. I think he might have fallen asleep.”
Brooke lives in the same neighborhood as me, so I nod. “Sure. If you buy me dinner.”
“Don’t you mean breakfast?” She chortles. “Let’s get something at the diner down the street. My stomach will thank you.”
I pull on my jacket before saying, “I’ll wait for you by the car.”
The hospital’s parking lot is open air, but at this time of the morning, it’s still dark.
It doesn’t help that there are only a handful of fully functioning streetlights.
I hate the dark. I always have. My footsteps echo against concrete as I drag my feet.
Most of the hospital staff parked closer to the entrance, but arriving late for my shift meant parking in the back section.
My beat-up Honda sits alone under a flickering light, looking as exhausted as I feel.
I’ve just reached my car when I hear footsteps behind me.
Not one set. Multiple.
I turn slowly, my heart suddenly pounding against my ribs.
Three men emerge from the shadows between the parked cars. They’re big, all of them, with the kind of bulk that comes from either the gym or violence. Probably both. The one in the middle has a scar running down his cheek, disappearing into his collar. I recognize him instantly, and my heart sinks.
“Miranda.” The one with the scar smiles at me. “We’ve been waiting here for hours.”
My hand tightens around my keys, threading them between my fingers like claws. “Why? What are you doing at my workplace?”
He takes a step closer. “You’ve been dodging our calls.”
Yeah because talking to debt collectors is not my idea of a good time.
Fear spikes through me, cold and sharp. “I’ve made every payment on time for the last three months. I just missed one, and I’ll make it tomorrow when I get paid.”
“Your payments aren’t enough.” Another step. “Our employer wants the full amount. Now.”
“That’s not how payment plans work.” My voice shakes, but I force steel into it. “I have an agreement. Monthly installments.”
Scarface smiles, and it’s the kind of smile that makes my blood run cold. “See, that’s the thing. Mr. Kozlov doesn’t care about your little agreement anymore. He’s decided to renegotiate the terms.”
“Renegotiate?” The word has my stomach in knots. “What does that mean?”
“It means he’s willing to forgive the entire debt.” He takes another step, close enough now that the others flank me on either side. “All of it. Every penny. In exchange for a different kind of payment.”
The implication hits me like ice water.
“No.” The word is torn from me fiercely.
“You haven’t even heard the offer.”
“I don’t need to.” My shoulders hit the concrete pillar behind me as I back up. “Tell your boss the answer is no. I’ll pay what I owe, but I’ll do it the way we agreed.”
“Mr. Kozlov doesn’t like being told no.” Scarface’s voice drops dangerously. “Especially not by some broke little nurse who should be grateful for his generosity.”
“Generosity?” A bitter laugh escapes me. “Charging three times the interest rate and sending thugs to parking lots? That’s not generosity. That’s extortion.”
“Careful.” His eyes go cold. “You’re not in a position to make demands. Or judgments.”
“And you’re not in a position to change the terms of a legal contract.” My hands are shaking now, keys biting into my palm. “I’ll make my payment on the first like always. If your boss has a problem with that, he can take it up with my lawyer.”
The lie sounds hollow even to my own ears. I don’t have a lawyer. I can’t afford one. I can barely afford my rent.
Scarface knows it too. His smile widens.
“You’ve got real nerve, I’ll give you that.” He nods to the other two men. “But nerve doesn’t pay debts. And it definitely doesn’t protect you when you disrespect Mr. Kozlov. Consider this a lesson in gratitude.”
They move fast, faster than I expect. Hands grab my arms, slamming me back against the pillar. Pain explodes across my shoulders. I try to scream, but a hand clamps over my mouth, cutting off the sound.
“This is just a warning,” Scarface says, leaning in close enough that I can smell stale coffee on his breath. “Next time, you’ll wish you’d said yes. Next time, we won’t be so gentle.”
His fist drives into my stomach.
All the air rushes out of my lungs in a painful whoosh. I would collapse if the other men weren’t holding me up. Stars burst across my vision. The second fist gets me in the left eye, and my head spins as pain bursts in my face.
A voice calls out my name, terror in it.
Brooke.