Page 167 of The Chase


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“I’m working.”

“How bad you want that bed?”

She closed her eyes. “Fine. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Come prepared to…talk.”

Before she could inform him that their conversation would be upright and fully clothed, he hung up.

On trembling legs, she stood and gathered her things. The walk back to her unit felt like a death march. God, she had to be crazy to do this…but the man couldn’t attack her in public, right? Besides, she couldn’t call Beck now. He was in surgery. Seth was likely still asleep, and she had his car. So she’d just have to put on her big-girl panties, be tough, and deal with Sanchez. After all, that bed was her responsibility.

Heavenly was more than vaguely aware the guys would consider this somewhere between a lie and an evasion. But that didn’t change the fact Sanchez had her cornered.

When she reached the ER, she found it surprisingly calm. Jennifer was doing some charting and restocking, checking in on different bays. Heavenly managed to catch her in the hall.

“You’re back early,” the new nurse specialist remarked.

“I have a little situation, some stuff to sort out after my father’s death.”

“Oh, sure. Don’t worry about it. For once, I think we actually have more than enough staff to handle our caseload. Go do what you need to.”

On some level, she’d really been hoping Jennifer would pull a Kathryn and insist she stay. But the woman simply sent her a supportive smile.

“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Heavenly said before she headed back to her locker under the guise of collecting her things. She did…except she left her phone behind. Neither Beck nor Seth expected her to answer calls right away in the ER. Later, she could say she’d forgotten it or something.

The thought made her wince. She hated lying to them. She knew the potential consequences. In the back of her head, she heard Seth’s voice.

People can’t be in relationships with partners who aren’t honest. Without that, what do we really share? And why should we go on?

Nerves fluttering, she set her phone in her locker, swearing she’d never keep anything from them again. She’d apologize to Sanchez. She’d bow, scrape, and simper if she had to. Then, in thirty minutes, this crisis would be over and he would be nothing but a bad memory.

Heavenly tried to believe her own self-talk as she made her way to the coffeehouse around the corner. As soon as she entered, she thanked God Sanchez hadn’t arrived yet and that it was busy. Some work-from-home types were clustered around, sponging off the free Wi-Fi. Moms with small children were in line, ordering an afternoon pick-me-up. A cluster of college students looked like they were prepping for a presentation. And the handful of baristas looked exhausted now that the busiest part of their day was over.

Feeling more confident in the small crowd, she slid into a booth and waited, trying not to think about the next few minutes.

If she committed herself to Beck and Seth, what would life be like? She still wasn’t totally sure, but she loved where they were right now. Since they made her happy, wouldn’t her dad have been happy for her? Eventually. Probably. After all, he’d never seen for himself the way they loved and took care of her.

Could she see herself engaged to them, the way Raine was engaged to Liam and Hammer? Yes. That actually wasn’t tough to imagine. In fact, she liked it. The thought of being pregnant was scarier…but not, like, terrifying. Even when the guys had broached the subject of getting her on the pill, she’d had a mixed reaction. Relief, yeah. Kind of. But she’d also felt an inexplicable disappointment that made no sense.

“There’s my cherry pie.” Sanchez slid into the booth across from her, his face stretched into something that had once resembled a smile.

But he looked nothing like she remembered.

One eye was grotesquely swollen and engulfed in purple bruises. Two rows of stitches disrupted his eyebrow above. The mottled discolorations continued all the way down his cheek and toward his jaw, which had been wired shut. He wore a bandage over his nose. His lips were still split and scabbed over. Roughly half his teeth were missing.

She gasped and shrank back in her seat.

He grabbed her wrist. “You’re shocked by what your two ‘friends’ did to me?”

Honestly, yes. She’d seen them covered in blood that horrible night after they’d returned to her apartment and ordered her to pack up. She hadn’t wanted to think about how badly her landlord had been beaten; she’d been too grateful for the reprieve from paying her rent in his bed.

She tugged her hand back and tried to send him a sympathetic expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”

What else could she say? No way would she tell Sanchez anything about her relationship with Beck and Seth. She definitely couldn’t say anything that might give their identities away, especially if he was thinking about calling the police.

“Maybe you didn’t.” He nodded as if considering that possibility. “But it’s okay. I know who they are. Dr. Kenneth Beckman and Seth Cooper. Got to think a surgeon and a former cop don’t want to go to prison.”

Heavenly gaped as horror washed through her. In a sentence or two, Sanchez had stripped away all possibility that he merely wanted her humble apology. He was out for blood.

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