I hadn’t wanted to throw it away without returning it to Josh first. He deserved to know. But I told him the danger when I explained the situation the other night, and I hoped he was smart enough to get rid of the art before Max’s friends showed up at his doorstep.
“Don’t lie, Jules. I always know when you’re lying.” Whiskey coated Max’s breath. There was no trace of the clean-cut, gentlemanly mask he liked to wear. Wild panic ran through his bloodshot eyes, and his lip was curled into an ugly sneer. A thin sheen of sweat coated his face and glistened beneath the stairwell’s fluorescent lights.
He was near feral. Unhinged.
My heart jackhammered in my chest, and a thick, pungent taste filled my mouth.
It was the taste of fear.
“They’re going to kill me if I don’t find it.” A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. “I need the painting back. You’re going to help me.”
“I told you, I threw it away.” My heart raced so fast I might pass out.
I could hear people’s footsteps outside the door—so close, yet so far away.
Why is no one using the stairs, dammit?
A scream of frustration trapped in my chest. Of all the days for me to take the stairs, which I never did, I had to choose today.
I should’ve lied and gone along with Max’s plan until I could get help, but my oxygen supply ran scarce, and I couldn’t think properly.
Besides, what if he hurt Josh? What if—
“You stupid, fucking whore.” Max pressed his forearm against my throat until I gasped for air. I clawed at his hold, but he was too strong. “This is all your fault. You ruined my life. I asked you for one favor, Jules. One favor in exchange for seven years, and you couldn’t even do that.” His harsh breaths clouded my face in a haze of alcohol.
Drunk and desperate. The most dangerous combination.
“Maybe I should take my payment another way,” he said, his voice so nasty it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Max reached between my legs. “See if your pussy is still tight enough to make me come.”
Dots danced before my vision. My limbs were growing heavier, my struggles for breath weaker, so I did the only thing I could do—I kneed him in the balls with every ounce of strength I had left.
His howl of pain ripped through the stairwell. He released me and doubled over.
I allowed myself one second to bask in the sweet air flowing through my lungs again before I stumbled toward the exit, but I only made it two steps before a hand shoved against my back. I didn’t even get a chance to scream before I plummeted down the stairs. My head slammed against something cold and hard, and I caught only the briefest glimpse of the stairwell door opening before everything went dark.
49
JOSH
“You forgot to ask about their allergies,” I snapped. “How am I supposed to treat a patient properly if I don’t have all the relevant information? This is the ER, Lucy. We can’t afford any kind of fuckups.”
Lucy shrank back from my harsh tone.
I usually had a great working relationship with the nurses, but I was too irritated by the sting of antiseptic in the air, the clicks of the keyboard at the nurses’ station, the squeak of shoes against the linoleum floors...basically everything.
I ignored the heat of Clara’s glare from several feet away. It wasn’t my fault if people were incompetent.
“I’m sorry,” Lucy said, her face pale. “I’ll make sure to remember next time.”
“Good.” I turned on my heel and left, not bothering to say goodbye.
“Don’t stress about it,” I heard Clara say behind me. “It was your first mistake since you started working here. You’ve been doing a great job.”
She caught up with me a minute later, her irritation as sharp as the one running through my veins. “Doctor, can I speak with you? Alone.”
“I’m busy.”
“You can make time.” Clara yanked me into the nearest side hallway. Doctors and nurses rushed past us, too caught up in their own work to pay us much attention. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Her eyes bore into mine, equal parts concerned and annoyed.
“Nothing is wrong with me. I’m doing my job. Or I would be, if someone wasn’t holding me up.” I leveled her with a pointed stare.
“Does your job include alienating every person in the ER? If so, you’re the Employee of the Month,” Clara said coolly. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but you’ve been acting like a boor for the past week. So here’s my advice, both as a nurse and your friend. Cut that shit out, or you’ll ruin everything you’ve worked for the past three years. No one likes an asshole doctor.” She jabbed her finger at my chest. “Next patient. Room four. We don’t have time for your moodiness right now, so I suggest you set whatever the fuck is bothering you aside and stop making it harder on everyone else around you. You want to do your job? Then do your job.”
She stalked off and disappeared around the corner.
I stood there for several stunned seconds before I released a sharp exhale.
Clara was right. I’d been acting like a grade-A ass. What happened last week had messed me up, and I’d been taking it out on everyone around me.
My jaw flexed when I remembered my breakup with Jules, but I didn’t have time to dwell on that right now.
I had a job to do, and I’d already wasted valuable time.
I checked the patient’s information in the hospital’s online system before entering the room. She was female, aged twenty-four, named…
My skin chilled right as the words sharpened onscreen.
Jules Ambrose.
You’ve gotta be shitting me.
It had to be another Jules Ambrose. The universe wouldn’t have that fucked up of a sense of humor.
But when I pushed open the door to room four with a shaking hand, there she was, looking like she’d stepped right out of my most beautiful nightmare.
She stared back at me, her eyes wide with shock. A nasty cut slashed across the corner of her forehead and hit me like a punch in the gut.
Jules. Hurt.
Time slowed into one endless, painful beat. It was so quiet I could count each individual thud of my pulse.
One. Two. Three.
You’d think a week would be long enough to blunt the serrated edges of my pain, but you’d be wrong. They raked against my insides, making me bleed all over again, but they were nothing compared to the worry raging in my gut.
How the hell did Jules get that cut? What if it was infected? What if she—
Jules shifted, and the soft squeak of leather finally dragged me out of my trance.
In this room, we weren’t exes.
She was a patient; I was her doctor. This wasn’t the time to wallow in our personal history or freak out over one small cut…no matter how much the sight of her blood made my heart twist.
“I’m Dr. Chen.” I spoke in a clipped, professional tone, thankful none of my inner turmoil bled through.
I would treat Jules like I would any other patient—one I didn’t know.
The more distance I placed between us, the better.
“Hi, Dr. Chen. I’m Jules.” The tiniest of tentative smiles played on her mouth and stole the breath right out of my fucking lungs.