She glimpsed the body of a young man on it. Unconscious. His skin and lips had a bluish cast that didn’t bode well.
The nurse she stood beside waved her off. “Jessie, get out of here. You’re done.”
Based on what she’d seen, her brain ticked off the list of things they’d require. “You need—”
“Hey, we’re fine. You’ve done your twelve. Time to go home.”
“What’s his deal?” Jessie asked.
“Suspected overdose.” Her coworker flipped her hand. “Now, go.”
Another nurse crowded in, pushing an IV apparatus, and Jessie stepped back. Her friend was right. Jessie’s body ached and her vision swam. This kid needed the best they had to offer.
After a demanding twelve-hour shift, that wasn’t her.
With one last look at the poor boy’s face, Jessie left. As she entered the hall, she almost collided with a male figure, moving fast.
He rocked back on his heels. Face straight out of a GQ magazine. Dark hazel eyes. A jaw to die for.
And the ethics of a weasel in heat.
“Hey, Jess.”
“Danny.” She scowled.
“I’ve sent texts—”
“And I’ve been ignoring them.”
“I said I was sorry.” His tone turned aggrieved.
“Sorry works for crunched toes and being late for lunch.” Jessie pinned him with a glare. “But certainly not for tickling my friend’s tonsils with your tongue.” She raised her chin and gritted her teeth. “Now get the hell out of my way.”
He glowered down at her, six something feet of gorgeous, pissed-off male. Every muscle, from neck to toes, sculpted to perfection. Arms flexed biceps resulting from the latest in workout technology.
Was he going to try grabbing her? She narrowed her eyes, shooting daggers. Daring him to do it. The flaw in the ideal male package was obvious—not one ounce of true regret for his actions. He wasn’t sorry for what he’d done. He was sorry for getting caught.
That she’d considered the coworker a friend had revealed other things she’d rather not have known. It made Jessie doubt her ability to judge character.
Almost, anyway. She thought of Zach. Danny had never made her laugh. Not like that. And Zach definitely had a better butt.
“Nice hair, Balais.” With that parting shot, Danny moved aside, but barely. Jessie elbowed him in the gut as she pushed past him. She’d rather have kneed him hard in the balls, but the boy on the stretcher needed him operational. The man may be a schmuck, but he was good at his job.
As she walked free of him, movement caught her eye. A woman peered in through the ER door windows. Her entire face was pinched with worry, and she was old enough to be that kid’s mother. Just.
The hospital had counselors specifically to help people deal with loved ones on the edge. But the one assigned to this shift was tied up at the moment. They’d had three fatalities in as many hours. So Jessie didn’t even pause to think. She pushed open the door.
“My son...” The woman searched her face.
“He’s in good hands.” Jessie stepped through and took the woman’s arm. “Do you have someone to sit with you?”
The woman’s fingers were clenched in front of her. “My husband is on his way. He was at a conference in Brandon.” An over two-hour drive.
So, no, then. Jessie stifled a sigh and gently steered the mother toward the small waiting area. Although the larger emergency room still had a few people waiting for treatment, this one was empty and quiet. The parents of the night-riding-culvert-collision-quad victim were with the counselor, and the heart-attack-possibly-due-to-extended-piano-moving patient’s wife had gone to the ward.
“Why don’t we go sit?” Jessie said. “You can tell me what happened.”
Jessie didn’t particularly want to know, but the mother desperately needed to talk, and there was no one for her to speak with until her husband arrived, or the counselor was free.
