“If you say that one more time, I’m calling Regan.”
That shut me up.
Lily knew exactly where to aim.
I went to the locker room.
Took off my cap.
My mask.
My gown.
Scrubbed my hands until they burned.
There was no blood on them anymore.
That did not matter.
I still felt it.
I changed into clean scrubs because the ones I had been wearing felt like they belonged to the worst version of the night. I pulled my hair loose, then tied it back again. Checked my ears in the mirror.
Mandy’s diamonds still there.
Tiny sparks of impossible light.
I touched one with a fingertip.
Then the other.
“I didn’t let him die,” I whispered to no one.
My reflection stared back.
Pale.
Older.
Not healed.
Never that simple.
But standing.
I thought I was ready to face the waiting area.
I expected MC men.
Callum. Rafe. A few San Diego brothers trying not to look like exactly what they were under hospital lights. Maybe men from Santa Fe too, depending how fast the phones had moved. I expected cuts hidden under jackets, boots planted wide, voices kept low because cops loved gunshot wounds and bikers in the same room.
I braced for that.
I did not brace for her.
She stood near the family waiting area with a Styrofoam coffee cup untouched in both hands.
Blonde.
