Page 1 of ’Til You Break

Chapter One

Hannah

No good deed goes unpunished.

It’s a lesson I’ve learned the hard way. I’ve trusted my gut rather than following due process. I’ve helped people I shouldn’t have. Both of which generally turned out to be mistakes, despite my good intentions. Yet, it’s still why I joined the medical profession. I wanted to be there, to ease a burden if possible and care for the injured, the suffering, and the dying.

I don’t regret my choice at all, even though the complaints that follow may suggest otherwise. It’s hard not to grumble and doubt myself, after a single decision sent my life into a spiral. One I can’t recover from.

Still, I did do my job. It seems simple on paper. Or in a medical chart. I gave an ailing man medicine, when no one else would ever listen to his complaints, let alone treat him. He cried and wailed through an entire night about his unbearable pain, and begged for any relief we could offer. The rest of the staff shrugged him off, calling him a junkie looking to score his next fix. I can’t really blame them, as everything in his records confirmed as much.

But it takes a keen eye to spot a difference. Something nurses and doctors have to develop early in their careers. We have to be able to sniff out the bullshit of a tweaker but also to know when it’s the real deal.

If I were a betting woman, I would have put my money on the hospital not wanting to treat him because they didn’t want to foot the bill. They hoped that if they pushed him aside and ignored the screaming, he’d eventually leave to find another way to get drugs. However, their corporate mentality and careless attitude aren’t in my nature.

So, I did what I thought was right. No, what I knew was right.

I gave him enough to stop his pain. It was barely a taste if he was an addict, nowhere near enough to get high. Just enough to help him bear another few hours while waiting for his cure.

As far as good deeds go, my actions barely counted. Yet, they had irrevocable consequences for my life. They’re the reason I’m in this diner. Staring at my phone and waiting patiently instead of reaching for it. I watch the smiley, happy people who surround me instead. I know that when I check it, there won’t be anything positive waiting for me. No kind words or sympathy. No interview offers in my inbox.

I didn’t stand a chance. I went against the protocol and I was blacklisted from the industry as a punishment.

In tough times, it’s good to remind yourself that you can’t have rainbows without a little bit of rain. And although today and the meeting I must get through will be painful, there has to be a brighter tomorrow somewhere on the horizon.

If there isn’t, what’s the point of going on at all?

The sound of a bell ringing over the main entry door abruptly cuts off my thoughts. A menacing presence stands in the doorframe.

He slips his hat off with one gloved hand, while his other hand glides over the slicked-back, black hair beneath it. Apathetic ice-blue eyes drink in the diner and its inhabitants, giving little away about his feelings toward the place.

I gulp at the sight of him. He is tall, broad, and imposing in appearance. He gazes at each table with calculated caution. He gives each guest a quick inspection and a faint look of disapproval before moving on to the next. His jaw clenches for the briefest second when his eyes fall on me, then stay glued in place.

Heat suddenly rushes up from my belly while I glare at him, awestruck and with my mouth agape. He’s the man I’ve been waiting for.

Vik Bennett. My stepbrother.

It might seem strange that I didn’t recognize him immediately, but there’s a good reason for that. We haven’t seen each other in thirteen years. Not since the day his father married my mother. At that time Vik was eager to get out and forge his own path in this world. Judging by the way he carries himself in an expensive suit that covers a body carved with muscle, I’d say he’s done exactly that.

Hell, even the way he walks is enough to convey the message. Long, proud strides that exude confidence and power. Like he owns the world and the rest of us are lucky to be living in it.

He reaches my table, but doesn’t sit immediately. He hovers over me, blocking out the overhanging light behind him.

I gulp again, this time nervously, knowing that I have to ask this intimidating beast a favor.

“Hello, Hannah,” he says, so calm and serene that my heart stops dead.

“Good God, you’ve gotten big,” I say, almost forgetting the fact he wasn’t much more than a boy when he left our parents’ home.

There’s no trace of that boy left here, now. Vik is all man, and it’s really working for him.

A waitress shuffles over to our table with the same look on her face as mine. Shock, mostly, layered with a subtle hint of intrigue that she can’t hide.

“Welcome to Barry’s,” she says. “Can I get you something to drink?”

I scoff at the put-on, cutesy voice she’s doing for him. She greeted me with an early morning grumble and a hasty comin’ right up when I gave her my coffee order.

“No. I won’t be here long.” Vik doesn’t even glance at her.