My Bad
Page 20
Cheyenne laughed softly. “Sam’s already claimed that right if the time ever comes that he’s no longer mine and Pru’s boss. You’ll have to claim his foot or something.”
I gritted my teeth. “She’s pissed as hell at me, isn’t she?”
“You shouldn’t have put her in that position,” Cheyenne agreed. “But, she’ll get over it. She’s used to catching flack from Kelley.”
“But not from you,” I pointed out.
Cheyenne shrugged. “I had to make it look good. Honestly, had I been in the same position I would’ve done the same thing. But it’s also not my decision to make whether I like certain protocols or not. And she realizes the same thing. Hopefully this never comes up again for us to have to worry about.”
My head dropped, and I studied the dirty, scuffed up soles of my boots.
I had a week left.
Seven days. One hundred and sixty-eight hours. How many fucking ever seconds.
It wasn’t long enough.
I knew that it wasn’t.
We’d known each other for a very short amount of time. Not even a drop in the bucket.
And hell, I wasn’t even sure that she’d talk to me after tonight.
“My girl’s got a good head on her shoulders,” Cheyenne said, drawing me out of my inner contemplation of how bad I’d fucked up. “If this had been her sister, Piper, I might say that you should run for cover. But Pru has always been very pragmatic and understanding. She knows the score, honey. She won’t say or do anything that’ll hurt any more than what you’re saying to yourself.”
I brought my head up and looked at Pru’s mother, who looked so much like the woman I was slowly starting to fall in love with. Hell, if I was being honest, I was already in love with her, just unwilling to admit it just yet.
“I…”
“If you can’t make decisions that are hard, maybe you shouldn’t be the charge nurse for the ER!” Kelley yelled.
My hands clenched, and my eyes connected with Cheyenne’s, who looked just as pissed as I felt.
“I hate him,” I growled. “I hate him, and I would like nothing better than to punch him so hard in the throat that his windpipe swelled closed and I got to watch him flop on the ground like a dying fish.”
Cheyenne blinked. “It’s like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
I grunted. “I have. This bastard’s been a problem since I started seeing your daughter. It’s only gotten worse since we’ve gotten more serious.”
Cheyenne grimaced. “That’s my fault. Kelley had a thing for me, and when I told him I was very happily married, Pru came along and he got a better version of me waved in front of his face.”
I didn’t like hearing that.
“He’s never given any indication that he finds her attractive and wants to date her,” I admitted. “He’s just a big douchebag that likes to bully her.”
Cheyenne smiled then, a slow, warm, entire face-splitting smile. “I told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t stay away from her, I’d make his life a living hell. Plus, I sent Sam up here to reiterate that point.”
A low chuckle fell from my lips. “I would’ve loved to see his face when your husband walked into his office. No offense, but you’re not nearly as scary as he is.”
Cheyenne’s head tilted. “You think so?”
“Overall,” I told her. “Women are less scary than men. For instance, I know that Sam has been taught quite a bit of tactic that’ll make a person talk. I know that he has the eyes of a killer. You, on the other hand? You’re just a pretty little thing that could probably shoot me, but that’s about it.”
Cheyenne’s eyes went a little wild. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want you to think.”
Before I could reply, Pru came walking out of Kelley’s office, her hands on her hips, and her eyes mutinous.
She spared both her mother and me a short glance and then continued past us as if we were no more than a couple of people conversing in the hallway.
Cheyenne met my eyes and then jerked her chin in Pru’s direction. “Remember what I said about her being smart. And trust me when I say, you hurt her, and I’ll be a hell of a lot worse than my husband.”
With that, Pru’s mother walked away, going left where her daughter went right at the T in the hallway.
The certainty in her eyes as she held mine made me think that maybe she was right. Maybe she was more dangerous than her husband…at least when it came to her girls.
Groaning, knowing what I was about to do wasn’t going to be pretty, I followed Pru to the small staff room.
She wasn’t in the main room, which meant that she was in the bathroom.
Glancing around, I saw that in the time that I’d been waiting, my pizza that I’d ordered for her had not only arrived but was sitting on the counter with a yellow note stuck to it.
Walking to the pizza, I read the note and nearly laughed.
I paid for this, which is why I stole a piece. You should count yourself lucky that I didn’t take more. You’re welcome, bitch. —Phoebe.
Mentally making a note to pay her back on my way out today, I tapped the box twice and walked to the bathroom door.
I didn’t announce myself, and I didn’t stop to think that she was actually using the bathroom for what it was intended for.
Instead, I pulled out my wallet and extracted a credit card. Moments later, I slipped it between the door and the lock and popped the door open like I did it every day.
Which, when I was younger and dumber, I had. Quite a bit.
Bayou and I used to have races to see who could get into the door fastest.
I was always the winner.
Pushing the door open, I immediately scanned the area, finding Pru standing next to the sink with her arms resting on the counter.
She wasn’t crying—thank God—but she was looking mighty pissed off.
“I’m fairly sure by locking the bathroom it meant that I wanted to be alone,” she snarled.
I shoved the credit card back into place in my wallet, then shoved that into my pocket and closed the door behind me with my foot.
Seconds later, I ensured it was locked once again behind us before walking up to Pru and throwing my arms around her.
It took her a few seconds for her to realize that I wasn’t arguing with her, and then she started to struggle.
“Get off me. I’m really pissed at you,” she roared.
She had a right to be. I’d refused to leave. I’d undermined her authority. I’d been the reason she’d been reprimanded by not just Kelley, but her mother.
I deserved her anger.
Dropping my face into the crook of her neck, I didn’t even flinch when she pulled on my hair.
“So pissed off that I don’t want you hugging me,” she lifted her shoulder, causing my head to bounce.
My forehead hit her shoulder bone with a hard thunk, and I winced.
She didn’t stop struggling, and soon she was so spitting mad that I was just holding her that I was forced to let her go or risk being junk punched and never having children.
Backing away, I waited for the inevitable.
When she launched herself at me, pounding on my chest with her little fucking fists, I caught her up and pressed her against the wall using my body.
Her squirming and insults, as well as the way her hair started to fall out of the loose bun she had it in, had me grinning at how beautiful she looked—which, let me tell you, really set her off. Smiling when your girl was pissed and letting you know—not the smartest thing I’d ever done.
Her eyes narrowed, and she bared her teeth at me.
“What’s so fucking funny?” she poked me in the chest with both pointer fingers.
I caught both of her hands in one and pinned them above her head. My other hand went to her ass and I squeezed.
“What’s funny is you look goddamn beautiful when you’re pissed,” I told her honestly. “And you’re making me hard.”
“Yeah?” she asked, trying to yank her hands free. “Well you’re pissing me off, and I want you to leave.”
“No, you don’t,” I countered.
I gritted my teeth. “She’s pissed as hell at me, isn’t she?”
“You shouldn’t have put her in that position,” Cheyenne agreed. “But, she’ll get over it. She’s used to catching flack from Kelley.”
“But not from you,” I pointed out.
Cheyenne shrugged. “I had to make it look good. Honestly, had I been in the same position I would’ve done the same thing. But it’s also not my decision to make whether I like certain protocols or not. And she realizes the same thing. Hopefully this never comes up again for us to have to worry about.”
My head dropped, and I studied the dirty, scuffed up soles of my boots.
I had a week left.
Seven days. One hundred and sixty-eight hours. How many fucking ever seconds.
It wasn’t long enough.
I knew that it wasn’t.
We’d known each other for a very short amount of time. Not even a drop in the bucket.
And hell, I wasn’t even sure that she’d talk to me after tonight.
“My girl’s got a good head on her shoulders,” Cheyenne said, drawing me out of my inner contemplation of how bad I’d fucked up. “If this had been her sister, Piper, I might say that you should run for cover. But Pru has always been very pragmatic and understanding. She knows the score, honey. She won’t say or do anything that’ll hurt any more than what you’re saying to yourself.”
I brought my head up and looked at Pru’s mother, who looked so much like the woman I was slowly starting to fall in love with. Hell, if I was being honest, I was already in love with her, just unwilling to admit it just yet.
“I…”
“If you can’t make decisions that are hard, maybe you shouldn’t be the charge nurse for the ER!” Kelley yelled.
My hands clenched, and my eyes connected with Cheyenne’s, who looked just as pissed as I felt.
“I hate him,” I growled. “I hate him, and I would like nothing better than to punch him so hard in the throat that his windpipe swelled closed and I got to watch him flop on the ground like a dying fish.”
Cheyenne blinked. “It’s like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
I grunted. “I have. This bastard’s been a problem since I started seeing your daughter. It’s only gotten worse since we’ve gotten more serious.”
Cheyenne grimaced. “That’s my fault. Kelley had a thing for me, and when I told him I was very happily married, Pru came along and he got a better version of me waved in front of his face.”
I didn’t like hearing that.
“He’s never given any indication that he finds her attractive and wants to date her,” I admitted. “He’s just a big douchebag that likes to bully her.”
Cheyenne smiled then, a slow, warm, entire face-splitting smile. “I told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t stay away from her, I’d make his life a living hell. Plus, I sent Sam up here to reiterate that point.”
A low chuckle fell from my lips. “I would’ve loved to see his face when your husband walked into his office. No offense, but you’re not nearly as scary as he is.”
Cheyenne’s head tilted. “You think so?”
“Overall,” I told her. “Women are less scary than men. For instance, I know that Sam has been taught quite a bit of tactic that’ll make a person talk. I know that he has the eyes of a killer. You, on the other hand? You’re just a pretty little thing that could probably shoot me, but that’s about it.”
Cheyenne’s eyes went a little wild. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want you to think.”
Before I could reply, Pru came walking out of Kelley’s office, her hands on her hips, and her eyes mutinous.
She spared both her mother and me a short glance and then continued past us as if we were no more than a couple of people conversing in the hallway.
Cheyenne met my eyes and then jerked her chin in Pru’s direction. “Remember what I said about her being smart. And trust me when I say, you hurt her, and I’ll be a hell of a lot worse than my husband.”
With that, Pru’s mother walked away, going left where her daughter went right at the T in the hallway.
The certainty in her eyes as she held mine made me think that maybe she was right. Maybe she was more dangerous than her husband…at least when it came to her girls.
Groaning, knowing what I was about to do wasn’t going to be pretty, I followed Pru to the small staff room.
She wasn’t in the main room, which meant that she was in the bathroom.
Glancing around, I saw that in the time that I’d been waiting, my pizza that I’d ordered for her had not only arrived but was sitting on the counter with a yellow note stuck to it.
Walking to the pizza, I read the note and nearly laughed.
I paid for this, which is why I stole a piece. You should count yourself lucky that I didn’t take more. You’re welcome, bitch. —Phoebe.
Mentally making a note to pay her back on my way out today, I tapped the box twice and walked to the bathroom door.
I didn’t announce myself, and I didn’t stop to think that she was actually using the bathroom for what it was intended for.
Instead, I pulled out my wallet and extracted a credit card. Moments later, I slipped it between the door and the lock and popped the door open like I did it every day.
Which, when I was younger and dumber, I had. Quite a bit.
Bayou and I used to have races to see who could get into the door fastest.
I was always the winner.
Pushing the door open, I immediately scanned the area, finding Pru standing next to the sink with her arms resting on the counter.
She wasn’t crying—thank God—but she was looking mighty pissed off.
“I’m fairly sure by locking the bathroom it meant that I wanted to be alone,” she snarled.
I shoved the credit card back into place in my wallet, then shoved that into my pocket and closed the door behind me with my foot.
Seconds later, I ensured it was locked once again behind us before walking up to Pru and throwing my arms around her.
It took her a few seconds for her to realize that I wasn’t arguing with her, and then she started to struggle.
“Get off me. I’m really pissed at you,” she roared.
She had a right to be. I’d refused to leave. I’d undermined her authority. I’d been the reason she’d been reprimanded by not just Kelley, but her mother.
I deserved her anger.
Dropping my face into the crook of her neck, I didn’t even flinch when she pulled on my hair.
“So pissed off that I don’t want you hugging me,” she lifted her shoulder, causing my head to bounce.
My forehead hit her shoulder bone with a hard thunk, and I winced.
She didn’t stop struggling, and soon she was so spitting mad that I was just holding her that I was forced to let her go or risk being junk punched and never having children.
Backing away, I waited for the inevitable.
When she launched herself at me, pounding on my chest with her little fucking fists, I caught her up and pressed her against the wall using my body.
Her squirming and insults, as well as the way her hair started to fall out of the loose bun she had it in, had me grinning at how beautiful she looked—which, let me tell you, really set her off. Smiling when your girl was pissed and letting you know—not the smartest thing I’d ever done.
Her eyes narrowed, and she bared her teeth at me.
“What’s so fucking funny?” she poked me in the chest with both pointer fingers.
I caught both of her hands in one and pinned them above her head. My other hand went to her ass and I squeezed.
“What’s funny is you look goddamn beautiful when you’re pissed,” I told her honestly. “And you’re making me hard.”
“Yeah?” she asked, trying to yank her hands free. “Well you’re pissing me off, and I want you to leave.”
“No, you don’t,” I countered.
