“How strange,” she whispers back, her voice full of unguarded emotion. “We share the same sentiment, Quinn. Please don’t forget, you’re the one who saved us back then. You’re the one saving us now.”
She gently removes herself, then catches Marco and thrusts him into my arms.
I look into his eyes, searching for confirmation he’ll be okay, and it’s there, blazing back at me in spades. He mouths off his goodbye before wrapping his arms around and squeezing harder than ever before.
The sight of the two of them doing a silly dance in my rearview mirror chases my guilt over driving away from them.And by hiding my hair under my hat again and sliding the fake glasses back on, I slip into being a different person, which also helps. Syncing my phone to my car stereo, I let a long, sweeping saga, full of mythical creatures doing everything in their power to avoid the inevitable, fated bond they share with their enemy, distract me as I drive. And drive and drive.
The time it takes to get back to my city apartment becomes both a physical and emotional barrier to my life here, including with Marco and Kade. I have to disassociate, or my worry will take over. I can’t afford any missteps. The last thing I need is my “husband” being paranoid or watchful.
Dinner happens. The same goes with packing and cleaning. The proof of my actions are my suitcases and sparkling apartment. I hope I’ve remembered to pack everything because I have no recollection of actually putting anything into my cases, besides a couple of important items. Perhaps I took the detachment too far.
A bath seems like a good idea to help me become more “me” again. Sinking down into the sea of bubbles, the soft jasmine scent, like a bouquet of flowers, surrounding me is lovely. The usual peace the bubbles and the smells bring is ruined by my own pensiveness.
I pull off the bandage, already knowing what lies underneath. I’d pay good money to hear someone explain how being in love with a Beta and being bitten by a random Alpha whose life I saved is going to bring me happiness.
In the soft glow of the candlelight, there’s no mistaking the bite is more than just a nasty workplace accident. The telltale silvering of the scar deepens every day and sparkles like I’ve dipped my hand into a jar of silver glitter.
It’s almost laughable that leaving for Russia is going to be the answer to those problems. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to run into Kade while having coffee in Russia. Not seeing him shouldhelp my broken heart mend itself—it’s a lie I keep telling myself. And there’s no chance of me seeing the Alpha who bit me. The distance will mean his claim will dissolve away in time. Hiding the bonding mark from my husband is the bigger worry.
Tomorrow’s monthly review meeting with the clinic director is going to be a good test of my makeup and acting skills.
Not even spending the night in my favorite pj’s lifts my mood. Admittedly, my mood is worse because I am shitting myself about meeting Dr. Billings. I know he’s going to check the bite. And me.
“Perhaps you should have time off, Quinn.”
I fight to contain the flood of relief at what he says.
Dr. Billings reads the puffy bags under my eyes as a sign of me being overworked.
As soon as he sat down, he was inspecting my hand. The expensive waterproof stage makeup is worth every dollar I spent on it because it passed his inspection. In between the server taking our order and our food arriving, he’s been dancing around the same topic.
“When was your last proper break? And I don’t mean days off the roster, I mean actually pack your bags and leave the city?” he asks, the challenge in his voice making it impossible for me to not answer.
“You know we’re understaffed at the clinic. We’ve been down staff all this month because of the flu too. You also know residents don't take extended leave during their tenure, Dr. Billings.”
He takes another sip of his coffee, placing it down before talking again. “You are quite correct. I’ve never been a fanof the push for young doctors, or nurses, to work themselves to the bone in their formulative years. It’s counterintuitive to having staff that doesn’t make mistakes. Throw in that we’re community based, and I struggle sometimes to even accept that I’m holding you all back.”
“That’s not true. We’re all there because we want to help, not because of the glory.”
“Still, I’m not a fan. The lack of funding is what is holding us back.”
I nod, agreeing.
We fall into an easy silence as he finishes off his eggs and I finish my coffee. Once our plates are cleared away, he smiles at me. Like a crocodile.
“You’re fired.”
“What?” I gasp.
People look over at my sudden outburst. I’m shocked, and it takes me staring at him to register what he said. And to realize how I walked straight into his trap. “You can’t sack me.”
“Wrong. I can. And I just did.”
I’m overcome with emotion; our breakfast meeting is turning out better than I could have hoped. I want to jump up and kiss his cheeks and thank him for saving me the formidable task of having to resign from the clinic, but if I reacted like that, he’d ask too many questions.
I seriously feel euphoric, like I’ve won the lottery.
Then he somehow makes my day even better. “I’d like you to hand over your staff badge and your access keys, Quinn.”
