I squeezed my eyes shut a second. “Sorry. Kirsten.”
“That’s ok. There’s so many of us.” She offered me a smile that said she was being polite and that it was really shit of me that I didn’t get her name right.
“Better get back to triage.” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder to the busy waiting room on the other side of the corridor, and I followed the movement, searching for black leather. Nothing. Not that I could see from here.
“That drink tonight,” I called as she started to move away from me. “Can I come after all?”
“Course you can. We’ll see you there after shift?”
I nodded, exhaling slowly so that she couldn’t see the tension still plaguing my body. A few words from my dad. A few days of overthinking. And him. My chest tightened at the thought before I could stop it.
Ryan.
Reap.
Whatever he was now.
Chapter Sixteen
Noise. Buzzing. I pulled the duvet over my head. It stopped. For a moment. And then started again.
I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the bedcovers tighter round my head. But the phone didn’t stop. It better be fucking important, whoever was on the other side of that fucking phone. Relenting, I reached out and grabbed the handset off the table beside the bed.
Security Sam.
9 am. I rarely cracked open my lids before eleven o’clock. Everyone knew that. This really better be good, or this prospect wasn’t getting his fucking patch any time soon.
“What?”
“The Hand. They’ve just been in the hospital.”
“Lovely. Someone injured? Might get rid of them.”
“No, Reap. Grim was there. Not just any of them. Not just a prospect. Grim.”
“He look ok?”
“Yeah. Yeah. He was talking to Dr Mercer.”
I sat up. Cold air rushed at my chest.
“Talking to her?” I said the words slowly like I was turning them over in my head. “Talking, how?”
“I dunno. Like he was stood in front of her and their lips were moving. You know, one at a time. Like a conversation.”
I made a mental note to kick that fucker’s arse the next time I saw him for his fucking cheek.
“What did it look like?”
“What d’you mean?”
I was too fucking tired for this shit.
“Did it look friendly?”
“No. Not if a panic attack is normal after a friendly conversation.”
“Who?”
