Sighing, Maisie zipped her shoes up in a pocket of her suitcase, before slamming the whole thing shut. Thatshouldbe everything – so she was all ready to do her evening shift, have a snooze, wake up early tomorrow morning, throw on some clothes and then shoot out the door with her already-packed case. Shift work had made her a master of organizing her life to the max, at least, since she knew full well she’d be too exhausted to pack tomorrow.
This way, she could get maximum sleep and start her holiday off awake, refreshed, and ready to find the bottom of a bunch of cocktail glasses.
Heaving her suitcase to the floor, Maisie wandered out to the kitchen to make herself a protein smoothie before she headed out to work. Quick and efficient defined her meals, too – she might hate the taste, but the smoothies got her what she needed quickly and easily. She didn’t really have the time or the money for long, luxurious meals.
Now that her righteous rage was beginning to wear off, Maisie had to admit she was beginning to feel just the slightest bit… deflated.
Did I really waste all that time on such a loser just because I was scared I’d never meet anyone else?she wondered, as she measured out a scoop and a half of protein powder into the blender.
But there was no denying it – she had.
It was depressing to think about. She hadn’t always been like this, though, she told herself – once, she’d been bold and daring. She’d gone solo backpacking across Eastern Europe after finishing her nursing degree. She’d had about a million hobbies, from photography to basketball. She’d thought at one time she didn’t really care if she never met the love of her life.
Where did that girl go?she thought sadly, as she poured some oats into the blender, followed by some yogurt.
Well, she was swallowed up by the grinding routine of daily life,she answered herself as she switched the blender on. It was all very well to be exciting and spontaneous and go on adventures when you were twenty-one, but now…?
She loved her job – there was no doubt about that. Yes, it was stressful, and she didn’t exactly get paid a lot. But her patients relied on her, and she knew she was good at it. She took pride in making sure the people who came into the hospital were alwaystreated courteously and their needs taken care of to the best of her ability – hell, she’d even learned, eventually, to decipher most doctors’ handwriting.
But itwasdraining, and she often came home, showered (even though her feet werekillingher), and fell straight into bed after a shift without the energy even to read a book, let alone go out and have any kind of adventure.
Maybe that was why I liked Brent,she thought as she shut the blender off – thoughlikedwas probably the wrong word, since, when she thought about it, she realized how little she’d actually known him.
It was actually that she’d liked theideaof him, the bad boy who’d whisk her off her feet and whisper filthy things in her ear in the back of a taxi. Who’d made her feel like, maybe, she wasn’t the completely boring, work-obsessed person she’d become.
Well, time to come back to real life,she told herself firmly. There was theideaof the cool, exciting bad boy, and then there was the reality.
And the reality is, he’s gross, and emotionallyandphysically unavailable, and just a plain piece of shi—
CRASH!
Maisie jumped, a small, shocked cry leaving her lips as the sound of smashing glass rang out suddenly through the house.
Instinctively, she covered her head with her hands, ducking, before her brain caught up with her ears and she realized the sound hadn’t come from in here – it had come crashing down the hallway, from – from –
My bedroom,she thought, her blood suddenly running ice cold.
It was early afternoon, and she lived on the ground floor in akind ofdodgy area, and the landlord had steadfastly refused to fork out for bars on the windows. If someone was going to break in, Maisie thought grimly, it was the perfect time for it –any robber would probably have assumed anyone who might live here was out at work or school.
I have to call the cops,she thought – but her phone was in the bedroom.
And in any case – by the time the cops got here, it’d be too late. And what if the robber, on seeing her suitcase, grabbed it and took off with it, on the off-chance it had something valuable inside it?
No. No way.No breaking and entering creep is ruiningmyholiday. Not after all this.
Knowing full well that this was exactly how people ended up the subjects of an especially unpleasant episode of atrue crime podcast, Maisie stomped her way out into the lounge, pausing only to grab an ornate iron fire poker from beside the – non-functional – fireplace. Itwasa historic building she lived in, after all, with all the historic features too, including crumbling plaster, barely any insulation, and, apparently, easily smashable windows.
But she wasn’t going to take this lying down. Gripping the fire poker in both hands, Maisie kept on going up the hall. She knew she was being stupid, but she’d hadenoughright now of feeling like life’s chew toy. She’d be damned if she was going to feel like she couldn’t even look after herself in her own home!
Breathe in, breathe out. Tell whoever it is to go back out the window the way they came. Wave the fire poker around so he knows you mean business. Unless he’s on meth. If he’s on meth, just grab your bag and run. Or maybe don’t even grab your bag…
Raising the fire poker, Maisie took one last deep breath and wheeled around the corner to her bedroom, yellingWhat the hell do you think you’re doing?!at the top of her lungs.
The first thing she saw was the smashed window, surrounded by the billowing curtains as the breeze from outside rushed in.
The second thing she saw was the tall, muscular, and obviouslyextremelyinjured man standing next to her bed.
Chapter 3
