Despite my disdain for the place, I sagged with relief when I finally pulled into the driveway of the rental house after spending two days driving from my previous assignment. At least I had a few days to get settled before I started working in the Emergency Department at the local hospital.
I grabbed my purse, my book bag, and my small suitcase from the car. Everything else would have to wait until after I showered and placed an order for delivery.
I unlocked the door and pushed it open to find a quaint, but cozy, living room, with the lights and television on. I glanced from the paper in my hand to the gold number on the front door. I was in the right place. Maybe the cleaners forgot to turn everything off before leaving.
I locked the door behind me and made a beeline for the bedrooms. I was told the place had two bedrooms with a Jack and Jill style bathroom. I entered the first door I came to, dropped my bags on the bed, and ran to the bathroom.
I let out a contented sigh as I began what had to be the longest pee of my life. It had been hours since I stopped for a bathroom break, because I hated public restrooms with a passion and would risk permanent damage to my bladder to avoid them.
After placing an order for delivery, I showered, dressed, and started unloading my car. I didn’t have a lot of stuff with me, so by the time my food arrived, my car was unloaded, and I was halfway through unpacking.
I plopped down on the sofa and made a total pig of myself as I devoured every single bite of my meal. I didn’t allow myself to indulge in takeout or fast food often, so I ended up looking like someone fresh out of prison whenever I did have it.
And then I would feel awful, consumed by feelings of guilt and shame. My rational mind knew one extra-large, grease-laden combo meal wouldn’t cause me to be overweight. But at one time, I had been overweight because I took comfort in food. I was an emotional eater, which is why I felt so guilty. I had been back in Devil Springs for all of an hour, and there I was stuffing my face like I did as a teenager.
I shook my head and tried to clear my thoughts. I was hungry, and there wasn’t any food in the house. On that note, I cleaned up my trash and grabbed my car keys. I needed groceries and some other necessities, and I was going to drive to a store at least two towns away to avoid running into anyone I might know.
After finding a super Walmart almost an hour away, I loaded up on as much as I could fit into my little car. I truly did not want to see anyone from my past, and the less I went out, the less chance there was of that happening.
I pulled into the driveway of the little rental house and sat for a few minutes, trying to find the energy to deal with the groceries. I hated grocery shopping. Take it off the shelf, put it in the cart, out of the cart, into a bag, bag into the cart, bag into the car, bag out of the car and into the house, food out of the bag and into the cabinets or refrigerator. It was just monotonous and exhausting. If I ever had an excessive amount of money, I was going to pay someone to take care of the grocery shopping for me.
Taking a deep breath, I heaved myself out of my car and started carrying load after load into the house. By the time everything was put away, it was late, and I was exhausted.
I quickly fell into a deep sleep. So deep, that I was completely disoriented when I suddenly woke in the early morning hours. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and glanced around the room, confused as to what woke me.
VROOOM! VROOOM! VRRRROOOOOOOOM!
I flopped back onto my pillow and covered my eyes with my arm. Just great. It sounded like one of my new neighbors had an obnoxiously loud motorcycle. Or maybe it was just someone passing by. Hopefully, it wouldn’t matter in the future. I was going to be working the night shift at the hospital, so I normally wouldn’t be home or asleep at this time. With that thought, I rolled to my side and went back to sleep.
Chapter Two
River
I was on my fourth day at the hospital, and things had been going well. I was surprised to find that I liked the people I was working with. Most of the time, agency nurses were brought in as a last resort, and the environments weren’t always pleasant to work in, which is part of why they paid us so much. However, Devil Springs truly had a minor nursing shortage and only needed a few bodies to fill positions temporarily until reliable permanent staff could be hired and trained.
“River, can you see what’s going on with the patient that just came in? Karen said he has a blood-soaked rag held to his hand,” the charge nurse asked.
I knocked on the door twice before entering the room. “Hello. I’m River, and I’ll be your nurse this evening,” I said as I hit the hand sanitizer and reached for a pair of gloves. “We’re still working on getting your chart created, but the receptionist said your hand was bleeding significantly. Can you tell me what happened?”
“Yeah, I cut it,” a deep male voice rumbled.
My head shot up, and I blinked in surprise. Holy shit! I was pretty sure Jonah Jackson was sitting in front of me, and damn, he looked good. Too good. The cute boy who was once friends with my brother—that I may or may not have had a tiny crush on years ago—had been replaced by one hell of a man with broad shoulders, messy, dark hair, and a chiseled jaw covered with just the slightest bit of scruff. His eyes were the same though—sparkling blue with a hint of mischief.
Fuck me. The tattoos covering his arms, as well as the nose ring he was sporting, completed the I-will-need-to-buy-new-batteries-before-morning look.
I snapped out of my daze when he cleared his throat. Shit. Had I been staring? I needed to focus on the task at hand and pretend like I didn’t know him so I could get out of there before he recognized me. I was not going to get sucked back into the pit of Devil Springs because of a hot guy, no matter how fuckable he was.
I grabbed some gauze and stepped closer. “Can I take a look at it, Mr…?”
“Jackson,” he said, confirming my suspicions, “but most people call me Judge.”
“Well, I’ll be calling you Mr. Jackson,” I informed him.
He grinned, and a dimple popped up along his jawline. “That works, too.”
I picked up a stack of gauze pads and reached for his hand. “What happened?”
“Box cutter slipped and stabbed my hand. I’d just put a new blade in, and it sank into the skin like a hot knife through butter,” he explained. I started to remove whatever he had wrapped around it, but he pulled his hand back. “Fair warning, when you take this off, it’s going to spray you.”