Jessie had been on the receiving end of grief. It wasn’t something that should ever be faced alone. She clamped down on the memories of her father’s lingering death. They were still too fresh.
Sharing grief didn’t always lessen it. Plus, this boy was still alive. It wasn’t grief, yet. Only tearing, panicked uncertainty.
Jessie sat the woman down. “I’ll be right back,” she promised, and returned to the hall vending machines. The cup filled with coffee strong enough to make an elephant fly. Jessie selected her caffeine shot of preference—a hot chocolate. She also fetched two bags of chips. Not high value nutrition, but at this time of night, the only sustenance available.
While Jessie gathered sugar and stir sticks from the dispensing counter, something blocked the overhead lights, casting her in shadow.
She glanced up.
An enormous man stood in front of her. The guy was built like a damned grizzly bear, with shoulders bulging beneath his jacket. His features were hatchet sharp. Heavy dark brows topped close-set eyes so pale a brown they were almost the color of honey.
Those eyes transfixed her. They devoured her. Intense. Hungry. A chill raced down her spine. If she’d had hackles, they’d have stood on end.
Jessie shivered as he moved past her to the coffee vending machine, leaving her body frozen despite a racing heart.
Her legs trembled.Dammit.She wasn’t going to let some creepy psycho from a B-grade horror flick scare her.
Was she?
She took a deep breath. It was hard to appreciate anything in that encounter. Jessie shoved the chip bags in the pockets of her scrubs, plunked the stir stick in the cup, picked up the packets of sugar—somewhere in all that, she’d dropped them on the counter—and carried the coffee and her cocoa into the smaller waiting room.
The entire incident proved to Jessie just how tired she was. She’d sit with the mother until the husband arrived. A hot shower and a glass of wine would have to wait, then she could sleep like a baby.
And she’d forget all about the psycho-looking guy prowling the hall. Handsome green-eyed couriers carrying oversized flower arrangements made for much better dreams.
* * *
Jessie usually didn’t mind the walk to where she parked her car. Tonight, after sitting with the mother of the overdosed kid, she needed it to help clear her head.
It had taken the father two hours to arrive, and by then the poor woman was beside herself. The kid was fifteen. He’d been at a party. Adults had been home, but someone had brought a bunch of prescription drugs.
It was, unfortunately, impossible to prevent some teens from accidentally killing themselves. Thanks to the efforts of the ER staff, this kid would survive. Jessie sighed as she attempted to push her rebellious hair back into its clip. Some things were hard to put into perspective. The boy would live, but they’d had three deaths this shift.
She’d chosen nursing because she wanted to help people. She’d just completed her RN degree when her father was diagnosed with cancer. His long illness had demonstrated the value of good nursing care. First her own, and when it got too much for her, others.
The doctors received all the attention, but it was the nurses who made illness and injury bearable. They held the patient’s hands when they suffered and were the ones who eased the pain.
After her father’s death, she’d worked toward her emergency nurse certification. Emergency suited her. Fast paced and challenging, it demanded she be able to adapt to whatever came through the door. It was frontline care at its most raw.
Rewarding, sometimes. Heart breaking, often. Some nights she went home with a grim determination not to cry.
It was, as her handsome young courier had said, a tough gig. A very perceptive comment. Zach had understood that her job was not for the faint of heart.
Unfortunately, Danny’s liaison had been with the friend she’d often texted to compare notes. The one that helped keep her sane through the madness.
She’d miss her. But there was no going back.
Usually Jessie walked outside the entire way, but tonight threatened rain. So she opted for winding her way back through the hospital to the main entrance.
The route reminded her of Zach. His grin. The way he’d moved, like he had eyes in his feet. Graceful. In control. Sexy as hell. Why hadn’t she asked for his number? Dumb, dumb. She was hopeless at those kinds of things. Surely the courier company would pass on a message.
Hopefully, he’d call her. A muffin date would be fun. Or, preferably, a cupcake rendezvous.
Jessie stepped out the front entrance doors. It might be May, but a cold wind swirled on the roundabout in front of the entrance. She jogged across. Tache Avenue. The traffic was almost nonexistent at two in the morning. The trees on the median dipped and swayed from a strong gust. It blew drops of moisture against her exposed skin and ran icy fingers through her hair. Loose strands blew free from the clip, drifting across her face.
Usually there were people around but, because she’d sat with the mother, she was between shift changes. She didn’t see a single soul as she hurried across the lot. It had lighting, but the trees, flushed with new growth, cast dancing shadows across the pavement. Rain clouds boiled and scudded across the full moon.
Without her usual escort of fellow shift workers, it was spooky as hell.
