Page 2 of Tiger Born

He was probably worried over whoever was in that emergency room. She didn’t take much personally inside the walls of that hospital. No one was themselves in there. Everyone was running on worry if they were a patient, fear if they were a loved one of a patient, and if you were a nurse like her, well…you were running on bravado and a patient bedside manner to settle the nerves of patients while sometimes not honestly knowing if you could help them.

She couldn’t wait to transfer out of the emergency room.

Okay, her brain was on a journey right now, and she knew what this was. It was exhaustion. She needed to go home, peel these scrubs off, shower the hospital germs off her skin, water her plants, and try to put the day away as she heated up a leftover dinner and dressed in her biggest, most comfortable sweats. And then she needed to veg out in front of a mindless show and do her best not to message Chris back.

Gah, how long was she going to be broken up about him?

She was so ready for her stupid heart to move on already.

The parking lot was quiet, and this part always creeped her out. She’d learned years ago to be aware when walking out to her car, even if it was in her own driveway.

She smiled politely at one of the doctors walking in for a shift and pulled a pocketknife from her purse. It was enormous, but it wasn’t overdoing it. She’d learned hard lessons about not carrying weapons. Sometimes really messed up things happened out of the blue, and for no reason at all. Things that didn’t make sense, no matter how many times she went over it in her mind.

Misty flicked open the blade and shoved her phone into the open zipper of her purse, so she had both hands free to defend herself if necessary.

Would she ever get over the fear of parking lots? Probably not. Chris used to walk her out of the hospital but now he was busy walking one of the other nurses out of here.

Gah, men were awful.

She gripped the handle of the knife tighter as she made it past the first row of cars to the second. She could see her Maxima now. She always backed in, so she could get out of the parking lot faster and safer. She saw her reflection in the newly washed black paint of the front end as she walked around to the driver’s side.

When she rounded her car, she saw him.

She flinched hard and swallowed down a scream as she jammed her knife out.

The man sat hunched over, his black hoodie covering his arms and his head. His face was downcast.

“Get away from my car!” she barked out, backing away a few more paces.

“I need help,” he uttered in this gritty voice that sounded hoarse, like he’d been yelling.

Her years of nursing had made her sensitive to the smell of blood, and she could smell it thick in the air here.

She cast her eyes to the puddle of crimson on the concrete under where he was sitting.

“The hospital is right back there. Walk,” she demanded.

“Can’t,” he said, his voice sounding weak.

“Why not?” she barked out, checking her surroundings. Was he playing bait while someone else readied to attack her?

There was a streak of movement a few rows of cars over, and she jumped and yelped, aiming the knife in that direction.

She knew what this was. She needed to get back to the hospital.

“Don’t run,” the guy said in that strange voice of his.

“Fuck you,” she murmured, backing away from the blur of movement she’d seen.

“They’re not here for you.” He lifted his face and she froze at the molten gold color of his eyes. “They’re here for me.”

“Who…who are you?”

“I can’t keep you safe like this. I need help.” He winced and dropped his gaze. “They won’t give us much more time. It smells like blood. It’ll draw them in.”

“Draw who in?” she yelled.

“You know who.” He lifted those unnaturally glowing eyes to her again.