“Unlock the door,” Lucas called to her.
Right.
Kissa reached over, without even checking the cameras, and hit the button that would automatically unlock the rear entrance door and open it for whoever waited outside. Lucas stayed on the other side of the ER, lingering at the doors where he would probably stay until Miss Lee returned with her lunch and Kisska’s coffee.
“Call if you need me, okay?”
She nodded to the guard as she stepped out behind the desk just as two men stumbled through the now-opened rear doors. She had to walk around the partition wall to see who it was, but she heard his voice first. Had she not been a nurse, trained to stay calm in all situations, then she might have froze right to the spot.
Or worse, run.
Again.
“Heard you were back in town, Kiss,” came the smooth, all too familiar voice of Cruz Montgomery.
She only stared at the boy he had helped inside who was holding his hand against the side of his midsection while his older brother did the same with his own to aid in applying pressure. The bloodstain getting bigger around whatever injury Ronan Montgomery was trying to hide—or help—meant Kisska didn’t really have time to indulge the green-eyed, gorgeous liar smirking her way. Just his presence, from the way he carried his six-foot-two frame made for bare-knuckle fistfights and breathless, aching early morning sex to the messy, windswept, wheat color of his hair did enough to set Kisska off balance.
Entirely.
Cruz had that effect on everyone.
Like the rest of his family.
Except once upon a time, he lied and said she was his. She had stupidly dared to believe him.
“Hey, Kisska,” Ronan said, forcing a weak smile on his face that seemed a bit too pale. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, you were like ten the last time I saw you,” she told the younger Montgomery brother. His boyish charm hadn’t entirely left, and he was a lot closer to the age his brother was the first time Kisska laid eyes on the Montgomery brother that would rip her heart apart. The same man that was now looking at her for direction. “Get him into bay one, Cruz. What happened?”
“Accident,” Cruz mumbled on the way by.
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Ronan spoke up. “Fell on a—”
“Shut up,” Cruz snapped at his little brother. One of three, she knew. He was the second oldest boy of five.
It was only once Kisska had Ronan resting on one of the beds in the ER bay that she finally had Cruz remove his hand from his brother’s. Ronan moved his with her prompting, too, and she immediately understood Cruz’s earlier warning for the teenager.
He didn’t fall on anything.
The neat slice through his flannel button-down could only be done by a blade. At least, the bleeding had slowed which meant—
“It probably didn’t hit anything vital,” she said, snapping on gloves she had grabbed on the way through the door. “It’s definitely going to need stitches.”
“Fuck sakes,” Ronan grunted when Kisska leaned in for a closer look which meant pulling up the flannel and feeling the wound. “Easy.”
“Where’d you get that mouth?”
Ronan chuckled. “Ask that asshole.”
She didn’t bother to look for Cruz behind her.
Kisska was too busy, and everything she could see about him was a lie, anyway. She learned that lesson once. She didn’t need a second education on the topic.
“Right, well, I’ll have to—”
“No police,” Cruz said suddenly.
That did make her glance back. His stony stare bore into hers, the cold emerald gaze steady and sure and threatening. Something else the Montgomery family did particularly well. There was a reason why they ran the town, after all.
Why they owned the mountain.
Why she ran.
But every rumor she had ever been told about the Montgomery family had never come close to the reality when it was finally laid at her feet. By then, it was already too late.
When is a monster not a monster, she remembered asking Cruz so long ago. When you love me, he had told her.
She hated him for that.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
“I’m not going to call the cops,” Kisska said, wishing her tone came out stronger. “You said it was an accident. I can’t prove otherwise.”
Wasn’t that usually how his family worked?
“Good. And hey, welcome back to The Valley,” Cruz told her, “Ma likes to say we always come home, right? We have to—it’s home, Kiss.”
Her hands trembled. The glare of lights in the far windows told her that Miss Lee was finally back. She had a patient to deal with; a job to do, but she couldn’t look away from Cruz.
His face was made up of hard lines that chiseled out a jawline and cheekbones that screamed rugged. The remnants of grease on his hands that he kept limp at his sides—hands she had let touch her and hold her so many times—said he was still spending his days elbow-deep in engines at his family’s mechanic shop on the mountain.
She could only say one thing back to Cruz; even if it killed her on the way out.
“Yeah, welcome back to me,” she whispered, quickly going back to her work on Ronan’s obvious stab wound. “I guess not very much has changed.”
To say the least.
But she had.
Kisska changed.
Cruz made sure of that.
About Bethany-Kris
Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to four sons, three cats, and four dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cats, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something ... when she can find the time.
Worth the Wait
Scarlett Wells, Edits donated by Karen Hrdlicka
Worth the Wait
Day 1
Today was officially the first day of quarantine for me. Being a software developer, my job can be done from anywhere, so I am one of the lucky ones who will remain employed during this crazy time.
I started my day as usual, getting up and throwing on some workout clothes, hitting my treadmill for a run, then hitting my Pilates reformer for a workout. I showered, dressed, and then ate some poached eggs on avocado toast before grabbing my coffee and heading to my desk to get to it for the day. The day was long and relatively frustrating, with video meetings being dropped, a few internet outages, and other technical issues. It’s not unexpected, but it is still a pain in the ass.
While the last thing I want to do is cook dinner, I decide to go and grill up some shrimp and veggies on my balcony on my illegal barbecue. I mean, the lease says it’s against the rules, but everyone has them. No one has ever caught shit for it.
I take a tray with a plate of shrimp, another of veggies, and head out to plop them on the grate before I head back into the kitchen. The rice cooker dings to let me know the rice is done. So, I unplug it and put a bit on a clean plate, pour some coconut aminos over it, and then grab my glass of pinot grigio and head back to the balcony to flip over my shrimp and veggies.