“Hey, Aly,” Hannah said as she reached us. “You want to come to my office and tell me what happened?”
I sighed and pushed off the wall. Technically, I hadn’t broken any major rules, though I’d probably get a slap on the wrist for the shrimp-dick comment and the taunting. “Sure, lead the way.”
An hour later, Brad had been discharged, and I was back on the ER floor, ready for my next patient. Hannah had given me an unofficial warning and very kindly told me to watch my mouth while also insinuating that had she been in my shoes, she would have stabbed Brad with the nearest sharp object.
Hannah was good people.
I felt like I’d faced the worst of the night and came out mostly unscathed on the other side. That was until I got called to the ambulance bay to help with a car accident victim. These were always rough for me because of my past, but tonight proved to be my undoing.
The victim was a woman in her mid-fifties with dark hair and olive skin. Like my mom. And just like my mom, she’d been impaled by something on impact, only instead of the pipe that had plunged straight into Mom’s chest, this woman had an unidentifiable, thin piece of metal sticking out from her right shoulder. She would survive where Mom hadn’t, and though I told myself that it wasn’t her, all I could see was Mom looking at me from the passenger seat, blood pouring from her mouth as she tried to speak.
“I can’t,” I said, backing away from the gurney while one of my co-workers rushed in to take my place. “I can’t.”
I was 16 again, sitting uselessly beside my mother as she died, my hands covered in her blood while I tried to staunch the flow, the broken car horn drowning out my cries for somebody, anybody, to help us.
Chapter 14Josh
Something was wrong with Aly. Something was really wrong with her.
I paced in front of my computer desk, unable to sit still any longer. She was grabbing her things out of her locker, and to anyone who didn’t know her well, she probably seemed fine. But I knew her. At least I knew her expressions, and right now, her face was wooden. It was like someone had sucked all the life out of her, leaving her shell behind to go through the motions.
Was it something that rapist said to her? The stupid cameras in the ER didn’t have microphones, and I couldn’t hear the conversation, but I knew from Aly’s face that it must have been ugly, especially at the end when he’d almost grabbed her.
I didn’t know what I would have done if he’d succeeded in touching her. It was bad enough knowing Aly was in the presence of such a bastard. I’d pulled up his file as she headed his way, and what I’d seen had sent me scrambling for the phone. She’d asked for space, but surely that didn’t extend to warning her of impending danger?
My jaw still hurt from how hard I’d ground my teeth together after she told the nurse on the line to tell me she was fine.
I could tell the second she caught sight of the rapist that Aly wasn’t “fine.” She’d been scared. And not the kind of scared I liked – the brief kind that was quickly replaced by lust – but a bone-deep fear that drained the color from her face. I understood why when I zoomed in on Bradley Bluhm. He had the same eyes as my father, and Aly, used to working in such a dangerous environment, was probably better than most at recognizing monsters and realized she was in the presence of one.
For a moment, it made me feel marginally better that she’d never looked at me that way, but then the gut-punch realization hit that she was within touching distance of someone like that, and I’d been on my feet with my keys in my hand before I could think better of it. I was halfway to my car when I got ahold of myself. Driving down there and barging into an ER wearing a horror movie-inspired mask wasn’t the move. I’d get arrested or probably shot. And as much as I wanted to go to her, going as myself pulled me up short. I wasn’t ready for our game to end yet.
Fuck. That wasn’t entirely true. No, what stopped me was the potential fallout when I told Aly everything about myself. There was a real chance she’d bail, and I’d just gotten my hands on her. I wasn’t ready to give her up so soon.
I returned to my room and planted my butt in front of my computer, reminding myself that Aly was a badass. I’d watched her kick the shit out of a dude almost twice her size yesterday. She was a good fighter: fast, bold, borderline reckless. And from the smile on her face, she liked fighting. I was certain she could defend herself against someone like Brad, especially because men like him were fucking cowards. At their cores, they feared women as much as they hated them. There were countless stories about people like Bundy and the Night Stalker and even my dad running away when their intended victims fought back and started to get the upper hand.
Aly had various objects around her that could double as weapons and plenty of people who could rush in to help. She would be okay.
I thought that right until Brad opened his mouth, and Aly’s jaw jumped like she’d bitten back a retort. What had he said? I leaned forward, lasered in on Brad’s face, trying to read his lips, wanting to knock the smarmy grin off his mouth. His gaze was as glued to Aly as mine was to him, trailing over her from head to toe in a covetous way that brought out my inner caveman.
“Punch him in the face,” I told an unhearing Aly.
“Bash his head against that glass panel.”
“Oh, no, you’re right. It’d be much better to strangle him with the cord of that machine you’re reaching for.”
Unfortunately, she did none of those things. And she didn’t look directly at Brad either, not after that first glimpse. He must have truly unnerved her.
She crossed the foot of his bed, and I got a good view of her face. Nope. She wasn’t unnerved; she was fucking livid. What was that piece of shit saying to her?
“Look out!” I yelled as he reached for her. If that motherfucker hurt her, it would be one of the last things he ever did.
She easily dodged him, but instead of stepping away, she got close, wearing an expression I’d never seen before. It was almost serene, but her eyes burned like she was trying to set Brad on fire with her gaze. She looked slightly deranged, so of course, my dick chose that moment to enter the conversation. I didn’t even try to stop my body’s reaction to Scary Aly because, goddamn, watching her go full bad bitch on Brad was fucking hot. If she actually hit him, I might come.
Unfortunately, she didn’t get a chance. Proving my point about cowards, Brad screwed up his face and started screaming, probably for help, the manipulative little shit.
I opened a new window in my browser and started pulling up everything I could find on the guy, and now, five hours later, I’d come to a conclusion: Bradley Bluhm needed to die. The sooner, the better.
I’d figure out the logistics of that when I had more free time. Right now, Aly needed me.
Despite what went down between her and Brad, I didn’t think he was the one to put her in her current mood. She’d been pissed, but from what I’d seen, recovered pretty well. Even the dressing down she got in that HR woman’s office hadn’t looked too bad.
I’d turned away when they started laughing and got lost in my research. Had something else happened to Aly while I’d been distracted? I’d checked in on her here and there throughout the rest of her shift, and she’d seemed okay, if a little muted. Was her shutting down now a delayed response to the ugly interaction with Brad, or was my gut right, and I’d missed something?
Not knowing was driving me bugfuck.